Bellefonte, Pa., Dec. 8. 1899.
SONG OF THE AUTUMN WIND.
The wind is singing a mournful song
In a weird, sad minor key,
‘While a wailing sound, like a spirit in pain,
Comes ever anon to me—
Comes ever anon thro’ the song of the wind
Like a shriek of wild dispair ;
Then follows a sound as of myriad wings
Borne past on the troubled air.
Oh ! the sky is cold and dreary,
The withered leaves fall fast,
The warm and gladsome summer days
Are over now and past.
The ery is from summer borne away
By old Nature’s stern command,
And the song is the mad winter devils’ song,
Who come to possess the land—
Who have come to cross it in ice and snow—
To strip the leaves from the tree ;
As they skurry along they sing their mad song
In a wild and minor key.
Oh! the sky is cold and dreary,
The whithered leaves fall fast,
The warm and gladsome summer days
Are over now and past!
Robert T. Whitelaw.
THEY WERE T00 BUSY.
Love stood upon the doorstep,
And twirled about the pin,
And whispered through the keyhole,
“Is any one within 2”
But she was busy sweeping
And dusting high and low,
And he his books was deep in,
So they let him knock and go.
Better the book unwritten,
Better unswept the floor,
Than such sweet and seldom visitor
Turned from the thankless door.
—Life
A STRONG MAN.
The weekly coach was due at South City,
and all the inhabitants were eagerly await-
ing its arrival. The Digger’s Arms was, as
usual, crowded, and against its hospitable
walls lounged those unable to get in. Sud-
denly a crack, loud and reverberating,
sounded in the clear mountain air, and
with a whoop and a rattle the great coach
lumbered up.
Thedriver, a cheery Yankee, who knew
his men as well as he did his horses, shout-
ed : ‘‘Have you heard the news, boys?
No! Well, I'll tell you—North City has
imported a parson !”’
‘A what !”” shouted the miners, jealous
of their own town.
‘A real live parson, and, what’s more,
they’ve turned the old saloon into a meet-
ing house.”’
There was a long standing feud between
North City and South City, which dated
from the first gold rush, and many and use-
less were the buildings that the rival
towns had erected to ‘‘go one better’’ than
the other.
All looked toward Texas Joe, an old and
tough miner, who by a brevity of speech
and quick use of his gun had long held the
perilous position of dictator to the neigh-
borhood.
No one spoke—indeed no one quite cared
to. At length the oracle, shifting his plug
from one cheek to the other said : ‘‘Pass
the word that there’ll be a meeting here
of all the boys at 6 sharp. It ain’t to be
allowed that a young shove ahead village
like North City is to take the shine out of
us. No, sir, it ain’t likely.
Long before 6 the whole adult popula-
tion was collected near the saloon, and it
was clear that no room would hold the
crowd. Finally an open air meeting was
proposed and carried—motions moved by
Texas Joe generally were—and the dictator
took the ‘‘barrel.”’
‘Men of South City,’” he began, ‘‘you
all know why this here meeting is called.
‘We have been made fools of by the people
away yonder,”’ waving his hand north-
ward, ‘‘and it ain’t tobe. They have been
presumptuous enough to get a parson, as if
the inhabitants of these parts want either
doctors or parsons, and are cackling on
about it no end. Now, I ain’t more re-
ligious than most, still I say,’’ kicking his
heel in the barrel to emphasize his words,
“that it’s a real disgrace to us that we
ain’t got a parson too. Now, what I say
is this: North City have got a parson ;
South City will have one too. They have
got a traveling cuss ; we will have a man
of our own, a chap wot’s got some educa-
tion. That’ll fix ’em up, you bet.”’
A redhaired Cornishman, who hated Joe,
ventured to say : ‘‘I vote we have a good
chapel man ; he’ll be a sight cheaper and
will be more of our own way of thinking.”’
‘Now, Treleaven, you dry up. ’Pisco-
pals I know, Catholics I know, but I know
nothing and care less about fancy religions,
and we’ll have one from the bishop or
we’ll have none at all.’”” A chorus of ap-
proving voices showed that Joe had the ear
of the meeting, and the Cornishman sulki-
ly drew back.
‘‘Now, it can’t be done without money.
I ain’t got much, still I’11 give $20,” said
the chairman. “‘I’ll give $5,” “I'll give
$101’ ‘Here, take my dust!’ ‘‘Here’s
for the skyscraper !’”’ were heard on all
sides, and amid a scene of wild excitement
Texas Joe, after counting the collection on
the barrel head, said, ‘“We’ll have the best
there is to be got—we’ve got $400.” He
beamed on the crowd and saw genuine sat-
isfaction on every face in front of him.
Then, with a queer smile on his face,
Treleaven pushed his way to the front and
said : ‘I call that a good start, and now
all we’ve got to do is to write to Frisco, for
there’s sure to be a hoss there who will
send us up the man we want. I vote that
the chairman write and see to the whole
job.”” A dead pause followed this, for al-
most every man knew that Joe could neith-
er read nor write. He rose slowly, with
his pistol in his hand.
‘‘Now, look here, mates, there’s a kind
er nasty twang about the last speaker’s re-
marks that I don’t like. I ain’t a push-
ing man, but of course I’l1 write if Mr. Tre-
leaven wants me to. Say, do you now ?”’
he asked, looking intently at the Cornish-
man as he did so.
The crowd fell away on all sides, for the
air seemed a little heavy.
‘‘No. P’raps young Green, the last
tenderfoot, had better write it. We
oughtn’t to put it all on you, Joe. No of-
fense,’”’ he muttered.
“Ah,” said Joe, ‘‘just as you like.
Now, Green, get paper and a pen.”” The
crowd gathered again. ‘‘Give the boy
room. Now just you write.”” With ad
miration the miners listened while Joe dic-
tated the following letter :
South City, Cal., U. 8. A.
Honored sir—North City have got a
chapel parson and South City felt that the
time has come to have a real college parson
living in the town. A weak man ain’t no
use, cos we want a strong man fit to run
the show proper. We send $400 for exes.
Yours truly,
The Inhabitants of South View.
“Now, boys,”” said Joe, ‘‘it’s my
shout.”
* * * * *
South City was en fete. The miners,
unusually clean, were waiting for the ar-
rival of the man who was to fairly knock
North City. Their hopes had been raised
to a high piteh by the receipt of a letter
from San Francisco informing them that a
real strong man was coming up to put them
in the way they should go.
Joe had suggested a salvo of pistols as a
welcome, but it was felt that such a recep
tion was open to misconception, and the
subject dropped.
The empty saloon, which had been taken
as a temporary church; was as clean as
whitewash and soap cculd make it and
only wanted the presence of the parson to
make it complete.
The excitement grew intense as the
hour drew near when the coach was due,
culminating in a mighty cheer when the
driver finally pulled up opposite the sa-
loon. Several passengers got down, but
no one answering to the description of a
strong man left the coach.
Finally Texas Joe said to the driver,
‘Say, where’s your new parson ?’’
‘There, sitting on his trunk,’’ replied
the man, with a grin on his face.
All eyes turned toward a young, slender
looking man, who, with eyes twinkling
with amusement, was watching his new
congregation. Seeing that something was
expected of him, he came forward and held
out his hand.
“Men of South City,”” he began, in a
clear, musical voice, ‘‘I have been sent up
here to act, if you will have me, as your
new parson. Something tells me we are
going to he good friends. and it won’t be
my fault if we aren’t. There’s lots for me
to learn from you and perhaps I can do a
little for you too.”’
His face was so boyish, his hair so curly
and such an air of sincerity and truth
seemed to surround him that the miners,
although deeply disappointed, felt their
hearts go out to him.
* * * *
One sultry afternoon the parson of South
City was sitting in his room, a prey to the
deepest depression. With all the eagerness
that youth and zeal could supply he had
done his best to raise his pecple, and he
had failed and he knew it. He saw his
miners, at first shamefully and then open-
ly, stay away from his little church, and
his heart was sick within him. He was
wondering if it were worth while staying
on when his door was suddenly opened
and a woman, disheveled and wild-eyed,
rushed in.
‘Oh, parson, save my boy !’’ she gasped,
and sank on to a chair, breathless with her
haste.
“‘Why, Mrs. Mace, what on earth is the
matter? Is your son ill?’ he asked ea-
gerly.
‘No, sir, he ain’t ill, but he’s worse nor
that—the men are going to hang him.”
‘‘What for ? Surely he hasn’t been tried.
What has he done?”’
“Well, sir,”’ wailed the woman, ‘‘he’s
got into bad company lately and a man ac-
cused him of horse stealing, and—and’’
—Ilooking fearfully around, ‘‘it’s true,
sir.’
Young and inexperienced as he was in
the ways of a frontier camp the parson
knew that horse stealing was one of the
deadly sins, and his face grew pale as
death.
“I’m afraid, Mrs. Mace, that if the men
have decided to hang your son no word of
mine would stay them.’
*‘And you, a minister, to say that tome,
a mother! Why, it’s none the less mur-
der, and you know it! Oh, sir,’’ she
pleaded, ‘‘there’s yet time to catch them
up! For God’s sake, whose word you
preach, try and save my boy ! Will no one
help a poor mother ?’”’ - She wept bitterly,
while the parson in imagination felt him-
self defying the mob, and also in imagina-
tion saw the ghastly tragedy that would
ensue on his interference.
“Come, Mrs. Mace, let us go and hurry,
and perhaps we may do some good.”
Seizing his hat, he ran from the room and
followed the crowd of miners whom he saw
were making for some trees about half a
mile out of town. When he finally caught
up to them, all the grim preparations were
made for the execution. The rope was
around the shivering youth’s neck. Six
stalwart men held the loose end, ready at
a signal to launch the criminal into eter-
nity. With his boyish face flushed with
excitement, the parson pressed to the
front and stood side by side with the man
about to die. A silence fell on the throng,
broken by Texas Joe, who said : ‘Now,
parson, this ain’t no place for you. Judge
Lynch has had his say, and Jim Mace is
going to be hanged, and that’s so.”’
“And who are you to take upon your-
self to judge and to execute? Don’t scowl
at me and finger your gun, for I’m an un-
armed man, and you know it. Have not
you enough blood on your hands already
without killing this boy who has broken
your laws? Give him one more chance,
and you may be glad yourself of it one
day.”
The fury that occasionally comes over
men of quite meek dispositions was on the
little man who stood defying the whole
mob. His look seemed to daunt even the
the men who held the rope, and it hung
loose about Mace’s neck.
Joe saw his authority trembling in the
balance, and with pistol raised said,
‘‘Clear him out of the way, boys, or I’ll
shoot him where he stands.’’
‘No, you won’t, Joe,”’ said the parson
undauntedly. ‘You know that would be
murder, and they don’tlove you too much,
even here, to stand that.’’
No one spoke for a moment ; then the
Cornishman, Treleaven, shouted out: ‘‘A
life for a life ! If the parson wants Mace to
live, let him be hanged instead.’’
The mob shrank from this cold blooded
proposal, and, seizing the psychological
moment, the parson slipped the halter from
Maee’s neck, placed it around his own and
said : ‘‘Go, my lad, turn over a new leaf,
and leave this town. Go, and God bless
you !”’
The crowd opened, and Mace stumbled
away, looking neither to the right nor left,
leaving his rescuer standing with moving
lips in his place.
Then Texas Joe said, with an odd break
in his voice for which he could not ac-
count : ‘‘Say, boys—there ain’t going to
be no funeral to-day, you bet! Take off
that necktie, parson, and I calculate South
City will have todo without you in the
future. We wrote to Frisco for a strong
parson, and may the Almighty strike me
dead if you ain’t a bit too strong for us.
Give us yer fist, parson, and’’—significant-
ly—*‘‘good-by.”’—St. Paul’s.
——‘‘Please, sor, kin I git off? Me
gran’ mother’s dead.”’
‘Ah, who is going with you to the foot-
ball game ?”’
‘Me gran’ father, sor.”
About the Kaflirs.
Here is Some Information that is Quite Seasonable.
A Term that Is Loosely Used. Group of Tribes in
South Africa Classed Under the Kaffir Name—their
Appearance and Domestic Manners. Custom of
Washing the Assegai.
For some reason of scientific exactitude
connected with the transliteration of Arabic
and other extremely foreign languages with
written characters utterly unlike English,
the ethnologists and philologists prefer to
spell the name K-a-f-i-r. Properly, it is
only a negative designation. Like ‘‘Welsh’’
and ‘‘Walloon,’’ both meaning ‘‘strange,’’
which the English and the Flemings re-
spectively applied to the Celtic races with
whom they came in contact, ‘‘Kaffir’’ was
the general tern, meaning ‘‘unbeliever,’’
applied by the Arabs of Africa to the fight-
ing races with whom they came in contact
in Southeastern Africa. Nowadays it is
limited by the book learned to the tribes
which are scattered about the country,
roughly speaking, bounded on the north
by the Tekezas, on the west hy the Bechu-
anas and Basutos, and on the south by
what is left of the Hottentots. In other
words, Kaffraria, ethnologically regarded.
includes all Zululand and some of Portu-
guese East Africa, with the whole of Natal.
But the hunter and the miner of the
Rand and of the Karoo are not bookmen as
a class, and aiming at convenience rather
than exactness or perspicuity they apply
the term ‘‘Kaffir’’ to almost any native in
those parts much as the southern white
calls any one with a dash of negro blood a
‘‘nigger.”” Many of the blacks who go to
Kimberley to work in the diamond mines,
and are shut up there in the huge in-
closures, or barracks, to guard against their
Jarcenous proclivities, during the terms of
their service, are really Kaffirs, and the
rest—Bechuanas, Basutos and so on—are of
races closely akin to the Kaffir race. Their
domestic habits and the tenor of their daily
lives at home are all much alike. It is
chiefly in his tribal organization that the
Kaffir proper, especially the Zulu, differs
from and excels his neighbors and congen-
ers.
POLYGAMOUS CUSTOMS.
The home life of the Kaffiris conducted
upon the polygamous system, modified by
strict tribal laws and pecuniary facts. The
Kaffir young man, when his tribe 1s not
hampered in its internal administration by
the interference of white commissioners, is
not allowed to marry at all until he bas
‘‘washed his assegai.’”” No soap known to
civilization is fit for this washing; it must
be done with human blood, and the blood
of enemies to the tribe. Here, according
to the friends of Cetewayo, was that hero’s
excuse for his outbreak in 1878 and 1879 :
“I sought no war with the English. The
Dutch are our enemies, and my young men
clamored before me for leave to wash their
spears.” Having washed his spear credit-
ably the young man is allowed by his law
to marry a wife, if he can collect enough
cattle for the wedding fee, which is paid to
her father, who is her owner. The pay-
ment and acceptance of this fee is the es-
sence of the ceremony, but the ceremony
once complete the union has a stability,
among the Zulus at least, which more civi-
lized tribes elsewhere might well emulate.
The bridegroom shaves his head, all but
a ring of wool left high up on the crown.
The bride shaves her head, except for a tuft
left on the top. This topknot is their idea
of the lovely in mationly coiffure. They
have decided ideas of their own as to
feminine loveliness, and according to these
ideas are keen critics of complexion. One
of the signs that the origin of the Kaffirs as
a homogeneous race is comparatively re-
cent is the variety of tone in their skins—
some few inky black, others varying shades
of rich coffee color. They themselves es-
teem most highly the deepest black with a
warm red tone, and this complexion con-
stitutes one of the charms of the Ama
Tembu belles, whose prices run as high as
forty head of good cattle, while ten head is
a good price to pay for a lady of less favor-
ed breed.
STARTING KRAALKEEPING.
When provided with one wife as a basis
of housekeeping, the young man goes to
work to start an independent kraal (pro-
nounced ‘‘crawl’’.) This word is Dutch,
the Kaffir to which it corresponds being
umuzi. The hut, which is the cemtre of
the Kaffir umuzi is a conical or hemispher-
ical wattle affair, with a ground plan from
fifteen to twenty feet in diameter, and one
opening two feet high by eighteen inches
wide, serving as door, window and chim-
ney. Inside, the floor is of hard, smooth
clay, hollowed out slightly in the cen-
tre for a fireplace, and except around
the edges, where the goats and chickens
bunk and the litter and hunting and fight-
ing apparatus is kept, fairly clean. Here
the Kaffir and his wife cook their food,
which is principally cornmeal (mealie)
mush, with the occasional addition of fresh
beef. ‘Kill and eat your cattle’ is the
conventional Kaffir order for ‘Break up
your kraal and move.”” They can cook in
pots of finely woven wire-tight matting, or
of thin, hard wood, though some of the
northeastern tribes have attained some
skill in working iron, mostly for weapons
but the iron pot of the white man has be-
gun to find its way into the native home.
One point worth remarking ahout the
domestic arrangements of the Kaffir yopng
people is that the bride is expected to
build the house with her own dark red
toned hands, while the bride-groom fixes
the surrounding fences to secure the cattle
and keep out the leopards. As a rule,
woman’s rights are not in a flourishing
state among the Kaffirs. The exception,
that of the Zulus, among whom the women
are better treated than among other divis-
ions of the race, is a strong argument for
women’s rights because the Zulus are the
pick of all the Kaffirs. The Zulus are tall-
er, more agile, more intelligent, more good
natured and sociable when well treated,
and more formidablein war than any other
Kaffirs. They may not make as powerful
‘hands’ in the gold or diamond mines as
some of the western and southern natives,
not being so thickset, or generally, so well
fitted to carry heavy loads; but among these
peoples lightness and rapidity of motion—
and, it would seem, grace—are more ad-
mired in men than what we call sturdi-
ness.
SCANTY COSTUME IN FAVOR.
The costume of the Zulu in the domestic
circle, if he be a man of rank, is comprised
in a leopard skin about his shoulders, a pe-
culiar belt made of strips of ox hide, an
anklet or two of brass, and something in
the way of a necklace. His wifehas a very
rainy day skirt, made for her by her hus-
band out of an ox hide which he himself
has tanned and softened. But this so far
as the man is concerned, is only for the pip-
ing times of peace, when the family smoke
Dutch tobacco out of smokehorns and ex-
hilarate themselves with snuff. When the
Zulu goes forth to ‘‘wash his assegai’’ he
leaves leopard skins and belts at his kraal.
His tribe have made themselves respected
by the British in open fight, and the secret
of his warlike respectibility are his ‘‘impis’’
and his ‘‘assegais.”’
The Zulu “‘impi’’ is a tactical and disci-
plinary formation of about 1,000 warriors
on foot. In battle the impi charges in solid
formation, like the Macedonian phalanx,
each warrior covering his body with a
shield about twenty seven inches by eigh-
teen at the widest part, made of one thick-
ness of oxhide. Each impi is permanently
under the command of an induna. The
principal offensive weapon of the Zulu war-
riors, the ‘‘assegai’’ is a light spear, some-
times as long as five feet, sometimes not
longer than three, the long, flat head of
iron, beaten into the shape of a willow leaf,
bound to the haft with oxhide thongs. At
close quarters the assegai may be used for
stabbing but it is more effective when used
as a missile that will kill at 200 yards, its
penetrating power being due to the rotary
motion like that of a rifle bullet which is
imparted in the act of hurling by a peculiar
hook of the little finger. It is said that no
white man has ever thoroughly learned the
Zulu trick of hurling an assegai or the Zulu
way of pronouncing the name of Cetewayo.
Enough Figs.
One million dollars per annum can he
easily added to the income of California, in
the opinion of Professor Walter T. Swingle
of the United States Department of Agri-
culture, by cultivating figs. Professor
Swingle has been touring the State and
keenly observing. His conclusion is that
the foothill region of California is excellent-
ly adapted to the growing of fig orchards,
and is like the natural home of the fig.
Imported figs are now selling on the Atlan-
tic coast at the extraordinary rate of $1,000
per ton, and there are few to be had at that
price. If California had a fig crop now it
would be as good as a gold raine.
‘‘California ought to raise figs enough
for the whole United States,’’ said Profes-
sor Swingle. ‘I am satisfied that the pos-
sibility of so deing will be demonstrated
satisfactorily.
The explanation cf this is that the fig
moth, brought from Asia by Professor
Swingle, in Capri ngs, shall survive the
frosts the problem of fertilizing the figs,
which has puzzled generations of Califor-
niang, will be settled. It has heretofore
been supposed that the only way to intro-
duce the fig moth into California was to
import small Capri fig trees in pots and
wait for them to grow. Professor Swingle
had adopted the more direct method and
brought them in figs, the figs being wrap-
ped in tin foil. A journey across the
Mediterranean sea, the Atlantic Ocean and
the North American continent, did not
hurry the moth in the least. Theie are
many samples of the moth in the State
now, all so imported, and are all doing
well.
If the moths survive the frosts this win-
ter, the way will be blazed out for the fu-
ture industry, which cannot but prove an
important addition to the State’s commer-
cial resources.
Professor Swingle says that he thinks
that it is possible to introduce the fruit-
bearing cactus into California successfully.
This is something like prickly pear, with
the ‘‘prickers’’ left out. The fruit is of a
dull red color and tastes something like a
canteloupe. In Arabia this fruit grows on
the desert and does not need any water to
thrive. There are large tracts in California
now producing no revenue, that might be
made to pay well with crops of the Arabian
fruit. Professor Swingle is investigating
carefully concerning the outlook for the
date palm in California.
The shortage in the Asiatic fig crop
ought to supply a market for any Califor
nia black fig fit to send forward thisseason.
Black dried figs have already been sold in
small quantities, in the East, at very good
prices.
For Fruit Growers.
An Act to Prevent the Spread of Disease Amonq Trees.
The recent act of assembly, signed April
28th, 1899, has for its object the preventing
of the spread of contagious diseases known
as yellows, black knot, peach rosette and
pear blight among orchard and nursery
trees, and also to eradicate the infection
known as the San Jose scale. Accordingly
to the provisions of this act itis unlawful
for any person to keep or sell any orchard
or nursery tree or any shrubbery infected
with any of these diseases. It shall be the
duty of all persons as soon as they become
aware of existence of such disease to forth-
with destroy or canse to be destroyed said
trees or shrubbery.
They must report the cases of such infec-
tion to the township auditors or the
borough or city council, who will then ap-
point three freeholders as commissioners.
It shall be the duty of the commissioners to
examine all suspected trees, and if diseased
to mark them properly and give notice
thereof to the owner. The notice shall con-
tain a statement of the existing fact and an
order to treat the affected tree with insecti-
cides or to destroy them by fire within five
days from the time that the notice is given.
If the owners neglect to obey the notice
then it shall be the duty of the commission-
ers to destroy the tree and the fruit. The
expenses for the destruction or removal of
the trees and fruit, when done by the com-
missioners shall be charged to the township
borough or city.
If any owner or lesses shall be dissatisfied
with the decision of the commissioners, they
have the right to appeal in writing, stating
their grievance in full to the clerk of the
board of commissioners, which clerk shall
refer the case to the department of agricul-
ture. The department will detail an ex-
pert inspector to examine the trees and
shall determine whether or not the com-
missioners are right or wrong. All actual
expenses incident to making the appeal
shall be paid by the township, borough or
city.
The commissioners shall be paid two dol-
lars a full day and one dollar for each half
day and their expenses while acting in that
capacity. These payments and expenses
can be recovered from the district in which
the infected trees are located. The district
in turn can recover the money so expended
from the owner or lessee of the trees in ac-
tion of assumpsit.
If any owner neglects to uproot or des-
stroy all such trees or fruit after having
been given notice, or shall offer for sale
such diseased fruit they shall be deemed
guilty of misdemeanor and punished by a
fine not exceeding $100 within the discre-
tion of the court.
To Rid the House of Fleas.
Brush all the articles in the room; then
dip a hroom in carbolic water and sweep
the floor or carpet. Next get a fresh pail
of carbolic water and a large sponge; wring
the sponge out of the waterand wipe every-
thing which will admit of being wiped
with a wet sponge (and there are few things
which will not.) Wipe the woodwork and
carpet in the same manner, but using more
water on the sponge and an extra amount
of carholic acid in the water. Go through
all the house in this matter.
——1Is your bulldog full blooded ?’
“‘Guess he is. He’s been samplin’ th’
blood of most of th’ neighbors.”
Explorations in Patagonia.
The interest in the scientific world in the
extinct life in Patagonia dates from the
publication in the early forties of the re-
ports of Owen and Sowerby on the collect-
tions of fossil vertebrates and invertebrates
made in that region by Darwin during the
voyage of the ‘‘Beagle,”’ from 1833 to
1836.
Notwithstanding the interesting and un-
ique nature of most of the fossil mammals
in Darwin’s collection, so entirely different
from everything known in the northern
hemisphere, yet the interest aroused by
his discoveries was permitted to subside,
and for many years almost nothing was
done toward bringing to light the exceed-
ingly rich extinct fauna of this distant and
little known land.
During the eighties interest was again
attracted to this region by the explorations
of Moyano, Moreno, Burmeister, Leister
and others.
Interesting and important as were the
results attained by each of these expedi-
tions, they were really insignificant from a
paleontological standpoint as compared
with the brilliant achievements of Charles
and Florentine Ameghino. The combined
efforts of these two brothers will always
stand as a monument to South American
paleontological standpoint and as a sub-
stantial testimony of what men endowed
with an enthusiastic zeal for their profes-
sion may accomplish even under most
discouraging circumstances.
The beginning of the first systematic in-
vestigation of the paleontology of Patago-
nia dates from the first voyage of Charles
Ameghino in 1887. Since that time a ser-
ies of papers written by Dr. Florentine
Ameghino upon material collected by his
brother in the field have followed one an-
other in rapid succession, each almost in-
variably announcing discoveries more re-
markable than the preceding.
The discoveries announced hy the Ame-
ghinos were of such an interesting nature,
and many of the conclusions drawn from
them were so extraordinary and frequent-
ly so opposed to conclusions believed to be
well established by observed facts in the
notthern hemisphere, that paleontologists
everywhere agreed as to the desirability of
bringing together a representative collectign
of fossil vertebrates and invertebrates from
that region for study and comparison with
collections from North America and Eu-
rope, and of making, so far as possible, a
detailed study of the geology of that region,
sufficient at least to determine the exact
sequence and relations to the different hor-
izons, and of securing all data possible
which might prove of use in correlating
South American rocks with those of North
America and Europe.
Since no one else seemed ready to under-
take this work, early in the autumn of 1895
the writer decided toattemptitin behalf of
paleontology of Princeton University. Dr.
W. B. Scott heartily approved of the plan
when it was presented to him, and freely
gave his energy and influence toward its
accomplishment, while from several friends
and alumni of the institution came most
essential financial assistance. So that by
March 1st, 1896, I was able to sail with
Mr. O. A. Peterson on our first expedition.
Since that date the work in Patagonia has
been continued but with occasional inter-
ruptions.
It would be quite beyond the limits of this
article to give in detail the results of the
work so far accomplished or to discuss any
of the many controverted questions relating
to the geology of that portion of South
America. A brief account of the physio-
graphic, geologic, and paleontologic features
of the region, together with a summary of
the most important results of the work so
far as accomplished, may be of interest to
readers.
Physiographically, Patagonia is divided
into two sharply defined regions--an east-
ern level and comparatively barren plain
and a western exceedingly broken and
mountainous region. The former extends
eastward from the base of the Andes,
where it has an altitude of 3,000 feet to the
Atlantic coast, where it terminates in a
continuous line of precipitous cliffs 300 to
400 feet in height.
Three distinct features characterize the
topography and tend to relieve the monot-
ony of the broad Patagonian plains. The
first of these is the series of escarpments,
from a few feet to several hundred in
height, encountered at successive altitudes
as one proceeds from the coast inland to-
ward the Andes. These escarpments have
a general trend parallel with the present
coast line, and they doubtless mark succes-
sive stages in the final elevation of the
land above the sea. The second feature is
to be seen in the series of deep transverse
valleys crossing the territories from east to
west and constituting the present drainage
system. In so far as my observations have
gone, these are all true valleys of erosion.
The third. and perhaps most striking
feature in the topography of eastern Pata-
gonia are the volcanic cones and dikes, and
the resulting lava sheets, which, covering
extensive areas throughout the central
plains, are seen capping most of the higher
table lands and frequently descending well
down the slopes into the present valleys,
while the extinct volcanoes often rise ma-
jesticalty hundreds of feet above the sur-
rounding plain.
In a line approximating the seveaty-
second meridian of west longitude, the
Andes rise abruptly from the plains and
form one of the most rugged and in many
respects most picturesque mountain chains
in the world. Many of the peaks attain
an altitude of over 10,000 feet, quite suf-
ficient at this latitude to precipitate most
of the atmosphere as it is forced over them
from the Pacific. Owing to the south-
westerly winds which prevail here throngh-
out the year, the atmosphere during its
long journey across the Pacific becomes sat-
urated with moisture, which, together
with the completeness of the precipitation
brought about by the advantageous topog-
raphy of the western coast, renders this-
region one with an exceedingly high an-
nual rainfall and consequently luxuriant
vegetable growth in striking contrast to
the dry and comparatively barren eastern
region, where the winds, already deprived
of most of their moisture during
their passage over the Andes are
usually dry and the annual rainfall
correspondingly low. The prevailing
winds in eastern Patagonia, as in western,
are southwesterly, and an easterly wind of
twenty-four hours’ duration on the eastern
coast is sure to terminate in a heavy fall of
rain or snow.
Not all the moisture of the mountainous
region is precipitated as rain, for in the
higher Andes severe snowstorms prevail
throughout the entire year, ample for the
formation of great ice fields, from which
extend numerous glaciers, many of which
reach from the mountain summits far
down below timber line, and some on the
western slope quite into the sea. Former-
ly these glaciers were much more extensive
than at present, and they doubtless con-
tributed to the erosion of the exceedingly
intricate system of mountain gorges and
fiords now forming so conspicuous a feature
of the region.
‘orof its own.
The slopes of the Andes below an alti-
tudes of 3,000 feet are covered with dense
forests, especially on the western side.
The variety of trees in the southern regions
is very limited, and the quality of the
wood for lumber or timber for building is ~
poor. Two species of beech, Fagus antarc-
tica and F. betutoides, the latter an ever-
green, are much the commoner of the trees.
The deciduous beech is especially abund-
ant, and is the only tree found throughout
extensive areas on the eastern slopes of the
Andes.
‘Within the dense forests, lichens, ferns,
mosses, and other cryptograms grow in
great profusion, entirely covering the
ground and trunks and lower branches of
the trees. The delicate foliage and variety
and harmony of colors of these plants, al-
ways freshened by frequent showers, en-
bance the other natural beauties of this re-
gion, and give to the quiet depths of the
forest a peculiar attractiveness, contrasting
strongly with the rugged canons and ser-
rated crests of the higher Andes.
The most conspicuous animals of the for-
est region are a small deer, not quite so
large as our Virginia deer, the male with
usually only two points on either horn.
The puma, or mountain lion, is abundant
both on the plains and in the mountains.
There are two species of dogs. The larger,
Canis magellanicus, is about the size of a
small collie, of a reddish brown color, and
frequents the wooded regions.
shy, in striking contrast with the smaller
C. azare, abundant in the plains, of a light
gray color, and about the size of a small
red fox. The guanaco or South American
camel is very abundant over the plains, and
occasionally enters the wooded mountain-
ous districts. Among the birds, two, from
their size, are especially noteworthy, the
rhea, or socalled ostrich, found in great
numbers on the plains, and the condor,
common in the Andes, along the high bluffs
of the sea coast and about the basalt cliffs
of the interior plains region.
The natives of the eastern and western
regions belong to two entirely distinct
races, differing from each other in their
customs, language and mode of life. To
the eastern region belong the Tehnelches, a
large, well developed, and peaceable race,
living entirely by the chase. They con-
struct their habitations and make their am-
ple clothing with considerable skill from
the skins of the guanaco. In the capture
of the guanaco, rhea, and other game ani-
mals and birds they are exceedingly profi-
cient and show much ingenuity.
The Channel Indians of the western re-
gion are physically much inferior to the
Tehnelches. They are essentially a mari-
time people with all their activities cluster-
about theshore, from which they never
proceed more than a few miles inland.
They subsist chiefly upon shell fish, the
flesh of seals, fish, and the sea otter and a
few edible fungi indigenous to the region
they inhabit. From the skins of the seal
and sea otter they construct their clothing,
usually exceedingly scanty, notwithstand-
ing the inhospitable climate. Rude huts
are sometimes built from the branches of
trees, but they spend much of their time in
small open boats made of beech bark sewed
together with whale bone. It is in the con-
struction of their boats and the implements
used by them in the capture of seals that
they show greatest skill and resource.
Although the plains of eastern Patagonia
are exceedingly monotonous and uninter-
esting to the casual observer, yet they are
of the greatest interest to the geologist and
paleontogist, for it is the rocks composing
them that contain the remains of the ex-
tinct animals that in former times inhabit-
ed this region. In many places along the
river valleys there are extensive exposures
of the sedimentary rocks rich in fossil re-
mains, and the high bluffs of the sea coast
have proved among the most promising lo-
calities for the collector.
A careful examinations of many expos-
ures in various portions of Patagonia has
made it impossible to establish the exact
sequence of the different strata and to give
a section of the various formations with the
fossils characteristic of each from middle
Mesozoic to recent times, and to indicate
approximately the present geographical dis-
tribution of these different formations
throughout Patagonia.
Rich and varied as was the mammalian
fauna of South America in former Miocene
times, the excellent preservation of many
of the skeletons in our collections demon-
strates beyond a doubt its unique character
so entirely distinct from anything then liv-
ing in the northern hemisphere.
While there is a striking and universal
dissimilarity between this fauna and that
of the northern hemisphere, on the other
hand there are many apparently close re-
semblances between the extinct Patagonian
fauna and the recent Australian fauna. The
same is also true, although in a more re-
stricted sense, of this fauna and that of
South Africa. The explanation of these
similarities and dissimilarities in the faunas
of the various regions can be best explain-
od by assuming that they indicate in the
one case a direct relationship and in the
those a totally distinct origin for each. The
relations apparently existing between this
Patagonian fauna and certain forms now
living in Australia and Africa would be the
natural result of former land connections
between these regions, perhaps, by way of
an Antartic continent permitting of an in-
termigration of species. The dissimilarity
in the North Americas fauna would indi-
catea long period of isolation of the two
Americani, continuing until comparatively
recent tertiary times.
The Value of Weeds.
The dandelion isn’t the only weed eaten
by people who know what's good to eat.
Take wild chicory, the plague of the farm-
er. It makes one of the finest salads serv-
ed—piquant, tender and wholesome. Char-
lock or wild mustard is another bane of the
farmer. He doesn’t know that asa, pot
herb it can give a delightful flavor. The
dockweeds—how annoying the whole fami-
ly are! Yet the broad leaf variety and the
curly leaf are used all over Europe as table
vegetables. There’s pokeweed, commonest’
of them all.
takes the place of sage, thyme, parsley and"
bay leaves as a flavoring for soup. Every-
body in America bates a nettle and can’t
see what use itis. In Scotland, Poland
and Germany tender young nettle leaves
are used as greens. The Germans boil
them with other vegetables to give them a
piquant flavor. Purslane is another weed
that can be treated the same way. Most
people think mild weed poisonous. Isisa
medicinal vegetable, with a delightful flav-
The young leaves, when
they are just in the right condition, are a
cross between spinach and asparagus, and .
in a salad are delicious. Sorrel letticus and
chevril are looked on as field pests by nine-
ty-nine out of every hundred farmers. The
hundredth one picks the choicest leaves
from these weeds and sends them to market
where they find a ready sale for salads to be
eaten with game and for flavoring herbs—
for herbs they are, and not weeds.
~——Sucribe for the WATCHMAN.
In France it is cultivated. It
It is rather ca
4