The morning call. [volume], December 30, 1894, Page 13, Image 13

About The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895

Image provided by: University of California, Riverside; Riverside, CA

                
BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON.
The Sport of Turtle Turning.
The Inoffensive sea turtle leaning against
the walls of a restaurant, with the ominous
sign "to b.» served this day" hung about its
neck, but faiatlv suggests the excitement
and series of adventures that have often
led to its capture and humiliation or the
activity and lift* that characterize its move
ments in its natural element.
It happened that the writer was once on
a reef in the Mexican Gulf during the
turtle season, and one day the beef in our
laider having given out ami fish being
monotonous as a regular diet, a turtle
hunt was proposed. It was a little early
io the season, but our cook auci general
factotum bad seen "signs." so it was
believed that a night or two would be
productive in spurt as well as meat. Four
kinds of marine turtles were found in
these waters— green nnd loggerhead
"to the manner born," and attaining a
weight of from 700 to 1000 pounds; the
hawk -bill, -I'--- rarely attained a weight
of over twenty, and the big leather or
ocean turtle, seeu only on rare occasions.
These with the burrowing gopher on some
of the keys constituted the representatives
of the tribe.
The green and loggerhead turtles were
the objects of our search, and one clear
moonlight night found us rowing to Log
gerhead Key, about five miles away, the
oars of the big boat bending beneath the
powerful strokes of the black crew, who
Fang a curious song that accorded well
with the sound of the oars and the sparkle
and flash of he waters.
Loggerhead was a narrow strip of sand,
about two and a half miles in length, that
reached out toward Yucatan from the
Florida peninsula. On it is the tallest
light in the United States, a shaft that
rises like a Cleopatra needle out of a
desert of sand, cactus and bay cedar. As
tbe boat crunched on the sands the keeper
came down aud cave us welcome —
a man who sees a human being once in
three or four months, or whenever the
lighthouse steamer gets around, and who
.in the meantime has the crab**, birds and
wife — if he is fortunate in having one — as
companions. Tbis keeper was ble->sed in
that way, or, as he told me, he would
surely have gone mad at times, and we
soon found a welcome in the ample brick
house that the Government bad provided.
ii was said that the keeier bad found
me pirate's gold, and that he only re
tained the position to develop some places
regarding other treasure. When this was
suggested he laughed and said he wished
it was so.
The island was undoubtedly the head
quarters for many pirates in the old days,
and in examining the reef the writer once
found *an old cannon bearing the Spanish
coatrof-arms. It was in very shallow
water uear au island and was possibly
Lost in an attempt to fortify the latter; the
channel here was very circuitous. On a
key not ten miles from Loggerhead the
lighthouse-keeper of the central island of
tbe little group found some gold washed
out of the sauus, ruing to the reports,
amounting to over 520,000. and there are
legends galore regarding the islands.
After enjoying the hospitality of the
'keeper and letting him see and hear us
talk, we betook ourselves to the beach,
that was a pure white sandy belt extend
ing around the entire island to a width of
about fifty feet, when began the bay
cedars and cactus that constituted the
trees of tne island and served as a protec
tion to innumerable sand and soldier
crabs, gulls and their young.
Along this beach we took our stations in
parties of twos about 2000 feet apart, and
A TURTLE WALKING OFF WITH A WOULD-BE TURNER.
scrapiog out places in the coralline sand,
that was still hot from the baking sun, be
gan the wait, each one taking turns every
half-hour in patrolling the intervening
1000 feet, so that -the entire beach was
guarded. My watch fell with the keeper,
who regaled me with many a yarn about
the island and the strange things that had
happened there. One of his predeces
sors went mad from tbe solitary life, took
possession ol the light- tbat rose like a
needle from the key and defied tho world.
For ten nights the light did not shine, and
the keeper.upon seeing the boats appioach
ing the island, took to the light, locked
and barricaded the lower door, taking
his station on the outer railin?„after hav
ing also shut the upper door, which led
into the lantern itself. There wag nothing
to do but batter the doors down, which
the soldiers did, then making their way
out upon the outer walk. But the keeper
was .not visible; be had evidently hurled
himself over the awful height that had
.templed men with well-balanced minds.
One of the men leaned over to look, and
just then came a fierce scream of defiance
from far below. Running to the other
side, where the lightning rod passed down,
the men saw the. maniac clinging to the
rod and descending, hand over hand— an
• impossibility under ordinary circum
stances. In this way' the mad keener
reached the ground and was finally run
down in the bush.
Here my comomion touched my arm
and silently pointed seaward. The moon
was fall and cast a brilliant silvery beam
across the smooth waters, and directly in
It on the shore, where the waves fell
lnn-icallv on the sand. I saw a glistening
object It gradually Increased in size until
the broad back of a turtle came In sight
and it. began its labored ascent up the
"bench. It was about one hundred feet
below us, and we could distinctly see its
movements. On leaving the water it
raised its head, uttering a loud hiss and
gazed about for several moments, evi
dently to see If the coast was clear, and
then began to ascend the slight incline,
• making but glow headway.
Finally n reached our level, where we
were crouching low, and began to dig, evi
dently using its hind flippers. In twenty
minutes it had excavated a hole and had
'begun todeposit its eggs. It was then that
'we made our rush, springing from our hot
'beds of sand and reaching the turtle before
c it realized what was the trouble, and then,
either stupefied with surprise or because
'It-was laying, it did not move until we had
laid violent hands upon It, wheu it began
to scramble lor the water.
It was a green turtle, of the largest size,
a good lift for two men, and "while it
struggled and threw its flippers about it
was almost impossible to hold i. I ran at
it and lifted it a foot or more, but a *■ weep
ing blow from one of the fore- flippers
forced me to drop it. Then we rallied and
lifted together, and had the animal almost
on edge when it. doftiy lifted a flipper full
o. sand and drove us from the field.
.kacb repulse of this kind brought the !
turtle nearer the water, for which it was
headed. Finally our shouts, partly of
laughter, partly for help, brought aid from
the next parties, and while one man headed
off tbe huge animal, prying it back with
an oar, three seized it, lifting on one side,
and one on the other, and after several
attempts, duiiog which the turtle left its
marks- ou its enemies, it was rolled over on
its back, having made a gallant fight, and
oniv gave up when six feet from the water.
The turtle was manacled by cutting holes j
in its flippers and tying them together, and
after it had been hauled up into the bush- |
line we took our places as before, and be- j
gan another wait. Every few minutes one i
of the party would go down to water line i
and follow along to the, next station, and
during on*- of these trips I noticed
tracks, which looked as though some one
had crawled up the beach on all fours. :
TURNING A TURTLE.
Following them up on the run I came
upon a loggerhead, just over a depression
in the sand, fairly falling upon it, where
upon It turned with a loud hiss and began
to scramble over the back track. My ef
forts to turn it were brushed aside and in
desparation I seized the reptile by '.he
shield at the back of the neck and held
and shouted, while being dragged at no
snail's pace toward the water. I was
fairly lying on the animal's back: and sud
denly, with an inspiration, threw myself
astride of its back, placing my feet against
the sand and so brought it up for a mo
ment to a standstill. This was for the
time a success, but seeing my boots con
veniently near its head the turtle made a
vicious snap at them and the next mo
ment I was dragged into the water,
thrown violently from my steed, a long
wake in the moonlight telling the story t >
the little group who had gathered too late
on the sands.
In the course of the night five turtles
were captured by turning and several es
caped. Thu difference between the green
and loggerhead turtles is mainly one of
appearance, the green turtle being the one
commonly seen in the markets. The next
day was spent in bunting the nests of
turtles, the trails or tracks of tbe animals
being followed up to the nest, when from
100 to 200 eggs would be found, about as
large in diameter as a ben's egg, but round
with a single depression. Cunning would
hardly be looked for in so clumsy an ani
mal, but every nest snowed evidence of it.
In following up a track,' tbe nest would
naturally be looked for at the end, but
such was not the case, the track in every
The Turtle With a Man on Its Back.
instance being a blind one. The turtle
would deposit its eggs, then spend some
time destroying all traces of the, nest,
theu traveling along the beach for forty or
fifty feet before returning to the water, so
that we had to pound the : sand with a
pointed stick all along the beach, between
the going up and coming down trail. From
a dozen or wore nests we carried off nearly
a thousand eggs.*^E^^^^|^~s^^|^^^
The captured turtles were taken to a
corral— fenced inclosore in shallow
THE MORNING CALL, SAN FRANCISCO, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 30, 1894.
water— and released, to be recaptured
when needed for the camp table. At such
times it was our custom to go Into the cor
ral and round no the animals single
handed— an opera that was far more
exciting tban the original capture, as the
turtles were in their natural, element and
made a vigorous hunt necessary, which
illustrated better tnan anything else the
power and speed possessed by these ani
mals. I had heard of turtle riding on the
open reef, and having ha J a taste of it on
dry land, I volunteered ray services when
the next green turtle was needed, and the
cook, iv nowise disposed to retain this
perquisite, readtlv allowed me the privi
lege. The morning in question tbe entire
camp gathered on the lence to see, as I
afterward learned, the turtle "do me
up." In light swimming costume
1 mounted the fence and slipped
into the big corral. The water at high
tide was about eight feet deep, and all
over the white sandy bottom could be seen
the black forms of the turtles that passed
the time in sleeping on the bottom, occa
sionally rising to the surface for air. 1
had been given the "tip" by a friendly
darky, and diving I swam down to the
nearest turtle, approaching from behind,
and when directly over it seized it by the
back of the shell just over the head. I
was unprepared for the peculiar antics of
this curious steed. Instead of starting
| ahead the minute the animal felt my
j hands, it pounded the sandy bottom with
1 a succession of quick blows that sent it to
I the surface so quickly that I almost lost
| my hold and my wind. The turtle gave a
' quick puff and dived, and I had just time
, to follow suit and strengthen my grip
i when the animal dived again, and with a
! rush dashed away throu.h the water, its
I flipper-- moving up and down like flails. A
second more and 1 should have ignomin
iously given up. when the turtle, having
gone the length of the. corral, dashed to
j the surface to breathe, and I filled my lungs
j just in time as I was jerked down again
by the terrified creature and towed away,
j now under water, now out, while the
| other turtles, alarmed at the noise, were
! racing up and down, adding to the general
: confusion and stirring up the sand and
; mud.
It was evidently a trial of endurance,
| and spurred on by the applause of the aud
-1 ience on the fence, I clung to the shell
desperately. Finally th- turtle showed
signs of weariness, and I found by draw-
I ing up my knees 1 could bring it to the sur
face. * •
"That's what you sbould have done in
the first place," said one of the experts,
who now, that I had caught my game,
offered to display bis skilL Diving into
.tne water he soon captured a fresh .turtle,
and at once bad the animal at his mercy.
At first he rode it around the corral,
stretching out behind and holding on by
one hand, while with the other he seized
the lower part of the shell, and by using
his knees he was able tn make the animal
rise or fall. He stopped it almost immedi
ately; kept it beneath the water until it
was ready to give in ; in fact, had ii under
complete control. During these perform
ances the turtles did not attempt to
bite or defend themselves other than
by striking with the flipper or throwing
sand. . c. H.
HER FATE.
She spurned the fond attention
■of a dozen I might mention.
And it seemed her firm Intention
To live a spinster's life;
In manner most dramatic,
She said with tone emph .tic.
That her tastes were too erratic
To make a happy wife.
.She refused a foreign title
When it seemed to he most vital
1 nat ber heart with sweet requital,
At honor so conferred.
Should smile with proud assenting;
But she still was unrelenting
And her heart was unrepentlng;
Although it seemed absurd.
Hut this maiden soon attended
A football game and ended
What she had before contended
Was sentimental gash:
She struggled hard to quell it,
But nothing could dispel it.
She lost her heart, pray teil it,
To Ell's center rush.
Orablks K. Nettle-to***.
THIRST.
Sufferings of Those Who are De-
prived of Water.
"No oue can conceive the tortures of a man
who suffers from iea! thirst," said S. K. Jacoby
of Ouray, Colo. "I underwent the awful experi
ence once, but can hardly convey a bint of
what I suffered, although it Is vividly lm.
pressed on my rolno. There are no words in
English or Spanish to tell the story, and I know
no other languages. It was In Wyoming In
1883. With two companions I was doing a lit
tle prospecting and we had bad luck.
"One morning I made up my mind to try a
range of mils about thirty miles away, across
what seemed to be a well-verdured valley, and
my chums refusing to go farther on what had
proved a wild, goose chase, said good- by anil
started back for Cheyenne. I started off and
hadn't gone more than live miles when I came
to desert land. There was not a stalk of vege
tation in sight. The ground was covered with
lava and scoria Mint bad rotted under suns of
a -thousand centuries. I never Imagined that
the desert was moie thau a few miles across, ana
as there was a haze banging over it I went
straight ahead. I only bad a small canteen,
which held brandy Instead of water. It was
before noon when I began my journey over
Hi it waste.
"Before that night my horse had fallen, nnd I
was suffering pangs of agony. 1 had no brandy
left, and everywhere was desolation as dry as
chalk. I killed my horse and drank some of
nis blood. Then I uirew myself down and
slept. No opium eater craving for his drug
ever bad such horrible dreams. They awoke
me, and I got up and staggered on In the dark
ness. All the demons of pain in the universe
seemed to have settled themselves right be
tween my shoulder blades nod were holding a
carnival. Ten- thousand million red-hot
needles, with rusted sides, were playing
tv and out through my tongue, and the top
of 'my head felt as If some glan had bold of it
and was living to pull It off. 1 couldn't cry our.
because my tongue was numb and useless from
the palus..
"When morning came I just beheld the out
lines of a wagon in the distance. With a super
human effort I gave a shriek: and then 1 new
no more. When I: regained consciousness I
iv;i* lv a bunch bay uear a tire aud two or three
men were looking at me. y. I lamed later on
that my scream had been heard by a party of
prospectors, who i were skirling the desert In
order, to make a shortcut to tbe Montana cat
tle trail, and ilia at first they thought It was
some wild animal, but one of the pany insisted
on a search, as he had li-aid a man make jus.
such a noise belore be died of thirst in i lie Mo
jave desert. li was months before I tecovered
completely, and I haven't bo-u more than a
mile away from * water, aud plenty of it,
since."— News.
If a lion and a strong bor-o were to pull
in opposite directions the horse would win
the tug-ot-war easily, but if the lion were
hitched behind the borse and facing the
same direction he could easily back tho
horse down upon its haunches.
CARELESS PEOPLE
They Put Money in the
Treasury.
UNCLE SAM IS BENEFITED.
Money Orders That Are Lost and
Never Duplicated — Treasury
Notes Destroyed.
Washington, Dec. 24.— The .Govern
ment of the United State& makes many
thousands of dollars every year through
the carelessness or misfortune of people
with whom it has business to transact
Merchants sometimes maka money in tbe
same way, but the amount is inconsider
able. If a merchant gives a check in sat
isfaction of an obligation and the check is
lost, the loss can be proved and the
amount recovered by the man to whom
the check was given. Sometimes it hap
pens that a man gives a check which is de
stroyed and which never comes to light;
and possibly tho man to whom the check
was issued never makes a claim for the
money. But as was said this happens so
seldom that the profit from this source is
one to which no business man would give
any consideration in figuring out the pos
sibilities of a season. Uncle Sam, on the
contrary, can figure out pretty well before
the beginning of a fiscal year that so many
thousand dollars will be put to bis credit
on "profit and loss" account before the
year is over. This profit will come from
bonds and bank notes destroyed and never
presented for ledemption. from money
orders which are lost and never dupli
cated, and from stamp* which are not put
to the use for which they were intended.
These profits are never cast up, because
debts of the Government are seldom out
lawed. But they are as real as though
they were credited to Uncle Sam on the
books of the treasury.
Of course it is no fault of the Govern
ment that this profit accumulates. Every
effort is made to find the man to whom the
Government is Indebted and every reason
able opportunity is given to him to claim
the amount of the indebtedness, ln the
case of Inst or stolen bonds he ha * simply
to prove ownership and give an indemnity
bond to protect the Government against
loss, ln the case of a treasury note in
jured by fire he has to send in the charred
remains and the treasury experts will
decipher as far as possible the value of the
pile (us original value) and the money will
be restored to him. In the case of a money
order, both the remitter and the remittee
are advised again and again that the
money remains unpaid. Still claims
against the Government aggregating many
thousands are left unpaid every year anil
the total of even the last thirty years will
run up into the millions. Even in the
matter of unpaid money orders the Gov
ernment has just made an accounting of
81.300,000 earned in the last tuirtv years
and now turned into the Postoffice Depart
ment fund, probably never to be repaid to
its owners.
The greatest source of unearned income,
; of course, is the destruction of treasury
; notes. Nearly fifteen millions of dollars
i has been made by the Government up to
| the present day, as nearly as can be esti
| mated, by the destruction of treasury
notes. Two years ago last August a
lively controversy arose between Mr. Fos
ter, then the Secretary of the Treasury,
and some of the members of the House
and Senate concerning the amount of
money In circulation at various limes, as
stated officially by the Treasury Depart
ment. A letter was addressed by Hon.
John Davis to the Secretary of the Treas
ury, charging that in the treasury
statements, among * other" thing*, *no
allowance was made for the wasting and
loss of com and the destruction of green
backs and coin certificates. Therefore be
contended that the statement of money in
ciiculation was incorrect each year by
the amount of note? and coin destroyed,
air. Foster, replying, said that the depart
ment bad no authority to deduct an esti
mated amount of lost coin and notes from
the total of its liabilities, He denied that
there had beeu any considerable loss, and
said that the total estimate at that time
for the period ending January 1, 1894, was
less than twelve and a half millions. Here
is the statement in detail of the notes and
certificates Issued by the Government,
estimated to have been destroyed beyond
'nil possibility of redemption, to January 1,
1891: '
United States notes t0, 410.541
>llver certificates 447,004
Gold 200.000
National n0te5......... 6.394.555
Total $1 2,452, 1
Sir. Huntington, the chief of the. loans
ami currency division of the Government,
estimates that not more than oue or two
millions has been destroyed since Janu
ary 1, 1891. The carelessness which pre
vailed during the war period, he says, was
responsible for a large amount of the miss-
Ing money, and the destruction now, while
it increases iv proportion to the increase in
the amount of money issued, is not so
great proportionately as it was at that
time. It amounts, probably, to less than
half a million dollars every year.
As to the amount represented by unre
deemed coin and abrasions of gold and
silver coin, that would be hard to estimate
accurately. It is estimated that 8100,000
worth of silver coin is used every year in
the arts, and as the coin value of this is
only about $60,000 the Government makes
540,000 by the transaction. There is about
$60,000 worth of abraded silver coin pur
chased during a year at its bullion value
and recoined, and on this the Government
makes the difference between the face
value and the bullion value, less the cost
of coining. The amount of silver and gold
coin which has disappeared from circula
tion, and which will never be presented
for redemption, cannot be estimated, ln
the case of the gold coin there is no profit
to the Government represented. In the
case of the silver the profit is 20 to 40 cents
on each dollar, according to the value of
silver when the dollar was coined.
Of the issue of $50,000,000 worth of bonds
which has just been made a certain pro
portion will never be presented for re
demption. The Tieasury Department
could figure in advance if the Secretary
wished to do so just about what the profit
on these bonds from this source would be.
The value of the missing securities of the
United States now outstanding which. will
probably never be presented* for redemp
tion is about ■ 81,250.000 according to Mr.
Huntington. These obligations date back ;
to 1847. A series of $250 bonds was issued
under the bounty land scrip act of 1847,
and even now at long intervals, these
bonds come in for redemption. But the
number is very small. /.There are still out
standing about $500 worth of these bonds.
The loan of 1862, amounting to nearly
$400,000,000, was called between 1871 and
1875, but there is still 5220,200* of it out
standing. Four thousand dollar** worth of
these bond 3, called March 20, 1872, came in
for redemption during the past year. They
had drawn no interest for twenty-two
years.
Of the loan of June 1864, there is still
outstanding $16,400; and none of it has
drawn interest since 1876. There is $24,150
of the loan of 1865 (the 5-20*8) still out. The
last of this was called in 1877. Of the con
sols of 1865, called between 1877 and 1879,
there was $2300 worth presented for re
demption last*. year;. and there is 8113,700
worth outstanding, drawing no* Interest.
Ot the consols of 1867, $16,400 worth were
redeemed, during the year and $176,500
worth' remain unredeemed. Altogether
the Government is ahead about a million
and a quarter ron the L bonds ' which } will
never be presented' or: redemption; and
it is many thousands ahead on the unpaid
Interest on large amounts which have not
been paid when due. Of course war times
were responsible for the greatest* destruc
tion of * bonds, as the figures above will
show. /But; It is singular that with all the
safeguards which surround the ownership
of bonds,' there should be such a heavy
loss in tbem. The smallest denomination
of bonds is §50. A security of this denom
ination is not likely to be thrown
about very carelessly. Then a large
proportion of the Issue of each
class of bonds Is registered and
the ownership is easy to prove. .In the
case of the loss or destruction of a regis
tered bond, the treasury will issue a new
bond to tbe owner on satisfactory security.
The owner of the ln«t or destroyed regis
tered bond has. to file with the. Secretary
of the Treasury a bond in the amount of
the original bond and the interest which
would accrue on it up to the date of re
dempton with two good and sufficient
securities, residents of the United State*.
In making proof of loss, the claimant must
give the time and place of purchase, the
name of the person from whom the bond
was purchased and the amount paid for it;
the place of deposit from wbicb it was lost
and the names of any persons having ac
cess to this place; the affidavits of others
knowing of the existence of the bond and
its disappearance; the affidavits of credi
ble persons as to the reliability of the
claimant; the number, denomination, etc.,
of tne bond.
A man who bas lost a coupon bond can
not recover its value. , But if a coupon
bond has been destroyed or mutilated
the owner can Present proofs similar to
those required for a registered bond and
the Secretary of the Treasury will issue
a duplicate if the loser files a bond in double
the amount of the lost bond and accruing
interest. Many duplicates of lost or
destroyed bonds are issued every year,
Sometimes it has been necessary for a man
who has lost bonds to go to Congress for
relief. This was necessary in the case of
the Manhattan Bank of New York, which
lost $1,600,000 worth of bonds in what is
known as "the great bank robbery" of
1878 and which was unable to give a bond
iv sum sufficieut to comply with tbe
general statute. Congress passed a special
law for the benefit of this bank, authoriz
ing the Secretary of the Treasury to issue
duplicates on proofs that the originals
were the property of the institution and
had not been transferred, and on condi
tion that a certain number of the bonds
be held by the Secretary of the Treasury
lor a time to secure him against possible
claims by the holders of the bonds, in case
any of them had been transferred.
The amount which the Government may
make in destroyed stamps each year is not
determinable, but undoubtedly it amounts
to a great many hundred dollars. The
stamp collectors furnish a large revenue
to the Government, for they put away
stamps at their face value and tbe Post
office Departmont is never required to per
form the service which is represented by
the purchase price. The Government of
Liberia and some cf the smaller South
American Governments are said to make a
large income by issuing new stamps at
comparatively short intervals. As to lost
pistil . orders their value will amount to
$50,000 or $75,000 every year, and" this
amount is clean profit, for the transmission
of the money has been paid for in advance.
A certain number of check** and warrants
of the Government are destroyed and never
paid, but their value is not considerable.
George Gkaxtuam Bain.
A COUNTRY MAID.
Her eyes the sun-Kissed violets mate,
And fearless is their gaze; '
She moves with graceful, careless gait
Along the country ways.
The roses blushing lv her cheek
That ne'er decay nor fade. .
Her laughter say, ber words bespeak
A simple, country maid.
No flashing gem. adorn ber hair.
Nor ciasp her illy neck,
No jeweled circlets, rich and rare,
Her suu-brownea bands bedeck;
But i e.-wly teeth through lips as red
As reddest rubies gleam;
The tresses o'er her shoulders spread
A golden mantle seem.
Her looks are Kind, and sweet the smile
That sparkles in her eyes;
Her mind, her heart, are free from guile;
she is not learned or wise.
No worldly arc. no craft das she *
Acquired, her charms to aid; .'.'-..- ';■'.
And yet she stole my heart from me.
This simple, country maid.
—Chambers' Journal.
LOST SILVER VEIN.
The Secret That Amos Albright Car-
ried Into the Grave.
The Lost Vein of Colorado still eludes the
eager prospector. Behind it range the Inci
dents of one of the most touchiug love stories
ever written. In the early six' lea Amos Al
bright went to Colorado to seek his fortune,
leaving his wife aud cbildren on an Illi
nois farm. His health began to fail soon
after his arrival in Colorado, aud to make
matters worse, came distressing news from
borne, for to make the Journey to the gold
fields be had borrowed money from a rich
neighbor, In former days an unsuccessful
suitor for bis wife's hand, and the wife wrote
that their creditor now threatened to foreclose
bis loan and drive her and her children from
their home. The news made Albright desper
ate; he sold a portion ot tils scanty belougings,
exchanged the money for provisions, and set
out alone for the mountains. He was sick unto
death, but desperation nerved him on. He
readied the mountains, turned from the trail
and began prospecting on unbroken ground,
but day after day disappointment alone at
tended bis efforts. In a fortnight his provisions
were gone, and he now saw that only starva
tion or retreat lay before bim. One weary day
sundown found bim sitting on a heap of drift
at th base of ** great rock. He was feariully
hungry, and weariness aod the cold winds of
the mountains bitterly oppressed bim. Then
came a discoveiy such as is seldom beard ot
outside the pages of old romance. What was it
that be saw in the rock upon which he was sit
ting? Silver! Not quartz nor glance, but vir
gin ore. The vein was as broad as bis band iv
the middle and dwindled away in wavering
Hues a yaid iv length.
Albright sprang up and set to work with
feverish energy and the unimpaired strength
of a giant, lt was a origin moonlight night
and be labored without pause until sunrise.
When morning came be bad mined more ore
I ban be could cany away with him. He saw
clearly that the vein he bad discovered was a
true one and probably extent-ed a great dis
tance. Within bis grasp lay a fortune of
millions, lie made a careful reckoning of
his bearings, staked his claim, concealed
all traces of bis labor, aud collecting
as much of tbe ore as he could carry
away with bim, set out for Denver, which city
he reached late that ulght. Next morning he
purchased an (•unit, an abundance of provisions
and a mule, aud again set out for bis claim.
Within a month lie Dad mined enough silver to
load a train. Moreover, be bad traced tbe fissure
toils origin in tne bills and satisfied himself
that be was the owner of one of the richest
claims in Colorado. Then a hemorrhage struck
linn down, aud it was by a miracle mat, blind
and staggering, be reached Denver alive.
As soon as ne bad gamed sufficient streugth
he set out for his home in Illinois. As yet
though eagerly importuned to do so. lie
bad revealed to no one tbe location ot bis
claim. He reached home only to rind that
bis wife and children had beeu driven from
tbeir. home by bis creditor, and to die In his
wife's arms. The money be had brought
with bim from Colorado served to recover
the home from which his family had been
driven, but the secret of the Lost Vein died
with bim. No oue of the hundreds wbo bave
since attempted to search bas been able to find
it. Western mining history contains no more
pathetic story than that wbicb relates to Amos
Albright and the Lost Vein.— Washington I'ost.
MAKING HAIRPINS.
A Machine That Turns Out Over
a Hundred a Minute.
For years the English and French con
trolled the manufacture of hairpins, and It Is
only within tbe last twenty years that the
goods bave been produced in this country to
any extent. The : machinery used is of a■: deli
cate and Intricate character, as the Drices at
which the plus are sold necessitate the cheap
est and most rapid progress, which can only be
procured by automatic machines. '.-agSiSSS*_t*fSS
The wire is in de expressly for the purpose
and put up In large coils, which are placed iv a
clamp, which carries »it | to the machine while
straightening it. From i there it runs Into an
other machine, which « cuts, bends and by . a
delicate and inst ntaneous process sharpens
the points. Running at full speed these ma
chines will turn out 120 hairpins every minute.
To economize It is necessary to keep them run
ning day and nlgbt. ■'-•■•
-,- Tbe difficult part of : the work is in the en
ameling, which is done by dipping tbe pins la
a preparation and baking in an oven. Here is
where* the most constant and careful attention
Is requiied, as ;t he ! pin-* must *be - perfectly
smooth and the enamel have a perfect polish.
The slightest panicle of dust causes Imperfec
tions and roughness, wbich is objectionable
Pittsburg Dispatch.
The animal known all over the West as
tbe "California lion" is recognized in other
parts of the world as the puma, catamount,
"cougar or panther. It is nothing more
than a large cat.
IS THE HORSE UNGRATEFUL?
A Study of the Animal's Emotional Nature.
Our friend the horse is lately receiving
a good deal of attention in literature. A
few years ago. it was fashionable to write
and talk about and paint dogs. Later the
feline race engrossed our attention, and
"the harmless, necessary cat" received a
large share of literary and artistic atten
tion. .Now the horse is all the vogue and,
as may be expected, a great many diverse
opinions are being expressed regarding
him.
Bret Harte, for instance, roundly con
demns our equine friend as ungrateful,
unaffectionate, treacherous and unrelia
ble and holds up to incredulous scorn tbe
idea that the borse knows one human be
ing from another, or cares for bis own
master above any other man. A writer in
the current issue of Scribner's Magazine in
a lengthy and scientific article on the
horse takes somewhat similar although
less radical ground. He declares bis ex
perience with the animal does not lead
him to the conclusion that tbe horse is
affectionate or that he seems to care for
one person above another, and says that
the creature Is unresponsive and undem
onstrative.
It seems singular that a man sbould
have the experience with an order of
animals that would enable him to write so
comprehensive an article as tbe one in
question and sbould yet fail so signally in
arriving at any understanding of the emo
tional nature of so highly sensitized a
creature as the horse.
It is true that to one who is not thor
oughly familiar with the animal's ways it
does seem irresponsive to advances made.
He does not wag his tail, for instance, and
leap upon you in ecstatic transports of
affection as does the dog; nor rub against
you or roll at your feet after the manner
of the cat. It would be highly incon
venient if the horse were to do any of
these things. He would, however, frolic
about one if the habit were not frowned
upon in colthood. I once owned a fine colt
from whose demonstrations of playful
affection I was forced at times to flee
THE OLD STALLION KNEW HIS FRIEND.
for my life. He would run after me
and rearing put his hoofs upon me
in genuine doggish fashion, a trick which
his great slz** rendered dangerous in the
extreme, and of wbich be bad to be
broken by severe punishment. The
horse, as he grows older, becomes less
playful and demonstrative than the cat or
the dog, not because he is so by nature, but
because he is put to work — a circumstance
which tends largely to subdue auy unto
ward exuberance of spirits. Not having
a tail to wag, too large to be rolled over
and played with cat fashion or to curl up
in your lap, the horse's range of emotional
expression is, naturally, somewhat lim
ited. - He has learned to nicker and whin
ner, and no one who has ever had the
handling of tho animal in his stall can
have failed to note how keenly responsive
he is to kindly treatment. It is an easy
matter for an observant owner to learn
whether hi** . hired attendant treats his
horse rightly; he has only to watch the
creature's demeanor toward the groom.
That conduct will not always be the
same. It will vary according to the dispo
sition of the horse. Soino horses will
evince decided pleasure when the attend
ant comes about them. Others will only
tell their story by being quiet and docile
'in the hands of a gentle groom. Ono ani
mal I have owned, while a model of gen
tleness and kindness when well treated,
would always bits or kick at the man wbo
used her roughly. Another would simply
cower and tremble whenever the rough
keeper came near her. The writer in
question declares in all seriousness that
the hoi noes not become attached to in
dividuals.
Some time ago I was called from home
for several mouths. I left Madame, my
favorite pony, under the same care she
had bad for a year or more. The same
person fed her, just as before; with the
exception of myself the same persons
used her. She bad in all respects the same
care, but during my absence sbe grew thin
and dispirited. She would not eat, and
she looked gaunt and sorry enough on my
return. She was unmistakably glad to see
me when I again made my appearance,
and proceeded at once to fatten up.
The same authority referred to declares
horses are not appreciative of kindness,
do not recognize, in fact, when such are
performed for them. Along this line an
acquaintance of mine tells the following
story: A friend of bis had occasion to
cross the Niagara River, one winter night,
on the ice. Be was driving a very fine
mare; and bad all but made the distance in
safety when, near the shore, the ice broke
and tbe mare wont through into the
water. She was nearly submerged, and
was in the icy-cold water for over
two hours before she could be re
leased from her perilous position. Of
course she was chilled through, but
sbe was taken to a farmhouse, on
the river bank, led into a large basement
kitchen, where a roaring fire of logs was
made in the open fireplace. Here she was
thoroughly rubbed down, dosed witb
brandy and given a plentiful hot mash.
Then a bed was made for ber on the floor,
and warmly covered she went to sleep.
Her owner, much concerned for tbe safety
of his valuable mare, went to rest in an
adjoining room. In the night be was
awakened by something touching bis face.
Starting up he discovered the mare stand
ing by bis couch licking bis face. '■ She laid
her head against bim and seemed to en
deavor by every means in her power to ex
press her gratitude for her rescue and the
treatment she had received. She; bad
never before shown anythinglike affection
for him, but it was quite evident that she
appreciated her peril and what bad been
done for her.
That the horse does remember kindness
and cherish the memory of old affections
is well instanced in many authentic cases.
There are few horsemen but will remem
ber the name of "Bush Messenger"— the
original Bush Messenger —an old-time
famous sire of a line of speedy descend
ants. After be went from the ownership
of Mr. Bush he fell into harsh bands, and,
never very tractable, became so savage as
to *. be "; woolly unmanageable. He had
grown to ■be* an ; old ■ horse, when, years
after, his former owner paid him a visit.
While Messenger was not a gentle horse,
Mr. Bush had always been able to handle
him and do with him as he would.
Imagine bis surprise, therefore, to find
his old favorite uugrooined and unkempt,
in an inclosure surrounded by a 10-foot
fence of strong boards. Through an open
ing in this fence food aDd water were
passed, the animal being deemed so dan
gerous that no one was found brave
enough to enter the pasture with him.
Mr. Bush essayed to do this, but was
warned that he was taking hi* life in his
own hands and would certainly rue his
rashness. HO entered, however, and con
cealing himself among some bushes he
gave the little whistle by which in days
gone by he had always called the Mes-
seneer.
The old horse raised his bead and lis
tened.. Another whistle, and with a great
whinner Messenger came tearing across
the field In tbe direction of the sound. He
ran about searching tor its source, and
upon Mr. Bush stepping into view the
horse immediately ran to him, while the
onlookers watched, terrified for tho man.
But, gently as a child, the fierce old stal
lion came up to his former owner and laid
his bead upon the man's breast, for the
wonted caress. The poor old fellow was
frantic when Mr. Bush left and bursting
through his pasture bars rushed down the
road after him. The gentleman led him
back to a stall in the stable, where he was
secured by strong ropes, but for a long dis
tance on bis homeward ride Mr. Bush
could hear his old pet lashing about in bis
stall in a vain eadeavor to free himself
aud follow his former master.
A similar case was that of Goldsmith
Maid, who was never known to care for
any one but her old driver. Budd Doble.
When she was retired from the track and
bred she became quite unmanageable after
the advent of her first colt, so that none of
her attendants ventured to approach very
near her, aud no one had ever laid a hand
on the colt when Mr. Doble paid her a
visit. When he went to the fnclosure the
Maid was at the further end of the pasture.
The famous driver was warned that he
would irobahly be received with her
heels if he ventured to approach, but,
to the surprise of all, upon bearing
his voice, the glorious mare came trot
ting across the field and welcomed
him with every manifestation of
delight. She marshaled up her baby for
his Inspection, permitted him to handle it.
and in every way showed her love for and
confidence in him. When he left she stood
a long time by the bars, gazing after bim
until he was out of sight-
Not only do horses remember human
beings, but I am convinced that
they remember their friends among
each other. I was driving Madame
along a quiet street not long since
when I saw tied in front of a house a
horse who had once been her stable com
panion, occupying the next stall. As we
drew near the horse looked ud and gave a
loud, shrill whinner, to which Madame
lesponded at once, turning her bead in
the other's direction with a clearly unmis
takable air of recognition.
Perhaps the most demonstrative among
these creatures are the horses in racing
stables. I have seldom failed to receive a
cordial welcome from these equine aristo-
I crats, who become so accustomed to the
visits of strangers as to really seem at
times to consider it incumbent upon them
selves to give the guests a polite reception.
I have noticed one thing,- however, that it
seems to me is not without significance.
Among the great horses I have visited
I have found* more intelligence, a more
observant notice and quicker responsive
ness in mares and stallions than in geld
ings. Not only in the great stables, but
among norses in general I have found the
same rule, if it may be laid down as a rule,
to hold. Ido not undertake to account for
it; 1 only lay it down as a result of
my observations among animals. The
only keen, alert, demonstrative gelding
I I can remember to have encountered
is Flying Jib, tbe phenomenal pacer. I
remember well the first time I ever saw
him. He was loose in his stall, and as 1
approached be came to the half door, and
thrusting his bead out proceeded, per nose,
to investigate my features thoroughly. I
held out a band and be first sui el led of it,
then rubbed his chin against my out
stretched fingers. Altogether he acted like
a dear fellow, and I have always taken a
special pride in his well-earned fame.
The horse has the least power of expres-
I sion of any of toe domesticated animals.
Even a cow has often more freedom to
express herself. The horse, when in the
company of his oWner, is usually in har
ness. Held fast between tne shafts, un
able to turn himself to right or left, blind
folded, as a rule, and his head held high
I iv air, it is hardly to be wondered at if he
I essays no marks of affection for the bands
| that are holding reins and whip over bis
| back.
It seems extraordinary, however, that at
j this late day in our experience with the
animal there should arise an authority
who. while evincing thorough knowledge
of the animal's origin, history and achieve
ments, should still declare him to be lack
ing in affection, in gratitude, and— for tbis
claim is also made— in general intelli
gence. The owner of more than one
equine pet will rise in iudignant contra
diction of all these charges.
' . Miss Russell.
i
Skin
diseases are caused by im-
pure or depleted blood. The
blood ought to be pure and
rich. It is made so by
Scott's
(_£____HH-G-_nH_K_3Eßr
Emulsion
the Cream of Cod-liver Oil.
Scrofula and Anaemia are
overcome also, and . Healthy
Flesh is built up. Physicians,
the world over, endorse it.
Don't be deceived by Substitutes!
Prepared by Scott ■_ Bonne, N. Y. All Dru__i_t_,
13