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112 Illustrations by J. J. Sheridan
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(Copyright, G. I*. Putnam's Sons.)
CHAPTER I.
Concerning Yue-Laou and the Xin 1
know nothing more than you shall
know. I am miserably anxious to clear
the matter up. Perhaps what I write
niajr save the United States govern
ment money and lives, perhaps it may
arouse the scientific world to action;
at any rate it will put an end to the
terrible suspense of two people. Cer
tainty is better than suspense.
If the government dares to disre
gard the warning and refuses to send
a thoroughly equipped expedition at
once, the people of the state may take
swift vengeance on the whole regions
and ieave a blackened, devastated
waste where to-day forest and flower
ing meadow land border the lake in
the Cardinal Woods.
You already know part of the story;
the New York papers have been full
of alleged details. This much is true:
Harris caught the "Shiner," red
handed, or rather yellow handed, for
his pockets and boots and dirty fists
were stuffed with lumps of gold. I
say gold advisedly. You may call it
what you please. You also know how
Harris was—but unless I begin at the
beginning of my own experiences you
will be none the wiser after all.
On the 3d of August of this present
year I was standing in Tiffany's chat
ting with George Godfrey of the de
signing department. On the glass coun
ter between us lay a coiled serpent, an
exquisite specimen of chiseled gold.
"No," replied Godfrey to my ques
tion, "it isn't my work; I wish it was.
Why, man, it's a masterpiece!"
"Whose?" I asked.
"Now. I should be very glad to know
also." said Godfrey. "We bought it
from an old jay who says he lives in
the country somewhere about the
Cardinal Woods. That's near Starlit
lake, I believe—"
"Lake of the Stars?" I suggested.
"Some call it Starlit lake—it's all
the same. Well, my rustic Reuben
.'says that he represents the sculptor
of this snake for all practical and busi
ness purposes. He got his price, too.
We hope he'll bring us something
more. Wo have sold this already to
the Metropolitan museum."
i was loaning idly on the glass case,
watching the keen eyes of the artist
in precious metals as he stooped over
the gold serpent. "A masterpiece!"
he muUered to himself, fondling the
glittering coil; "look at the texture!
whew!" Hut I was not looking at the
serpent. Something was moving—
crawling out of Godfrey's coat pocket
—the pocket nearest me—Something
soft and yellow with crab-like legs all
covered with coarse yellow hair.
"What in heaven's name," said I.
"have you got in your pocket? It's
crawling out —it's trying to creep up
your coat. Godfrey!"
He turned quickly and dragged the
creature out with his left hand.
I shrank back as he hold the re
pulsive object dangling before me, and
he laughed and placed it on the coun
ter.
"Did you over see anything like
that?" he demanded.
"No," said I, truthfully, "and I hope
I never shall again. What is it?"
"I don't know. Ask them at the
Natural History museum—they can't
toll you. The Smithsonian is all at
sea, too. It is, 1 believe, the connect
ing link between a sea-urchin, a spider
and the devil, it looks venomous, but
I can't find either fangs or mouth. Is
it blind? These things may be eyes,
hut I hey look as if they were painted.
A Japanese sculptor might have pro
duced such an impossible beast, but
it is hard to believe that. God did. It
kioks unfinished, too. l have a mad
Idea that this creature is only one of
the parts of some larger and more
grotesque organism—it looks so lone
ly, so hopelessly dependent, so cursed
ly unfinished. I'm going to use it as
a model. If I don't. out-Japanese the
Japs my name isn't Godfrey."
The creature was moving slowly
across the glass case towards me. I
drew back.
"Godfrey," I said, "I would execute
a man who executed any such work as
you propose. What do you want to
perpetuate such a reptile for? I can
stand the Japanese grotesque, but I
can't stand that—spider—"
"It's a crab."
"Crab or spider or blind-worm—
ugh! What do you want to do it for?
it's a nightmare--It's unclean!"
I hated the thing. It was the first
living creature that I had ever hated.
For some time I had noticed a damp,
acrid odor in the air, and Godfrey said
ft came from (he reptile.
"Then kill it and bury it," I said;
"and, by tl»e \yay, where did it come
from
"I don't know that, either," laughed
Godfrey; "I found it clinging lo th«
box that this gold serpent was brought
In. I suppose my old Keuben is re
sponsible."
"If the Cardinal Woods are the lurk
ing places for things like this," said I,
"I am sorry that I am going to the
Cardinal Woods."
"Are you?" asked Godfrey; "for the
shooting?"
"Yes, with Harris and Pierpont.
Why don't you kill that creature?"
"Go off on your shooting trip and
let me alone," laughed Godfrey.
I shuddered at the "crab" and bade
Godfrey good-by until December.
That night Pierpont, Harris and I sat
chatting in the smoking car of the
Quebec express when the long train
pulled out of the Grand Central de
pot. Old David had gone forward with
the dogs; poor things, they hated to
ride in the baggage car, but the Que
bec & Northern road provides no
sportsmen's cars, and David and the
three Gordon setters were in for an
uncomfortable night.
Except for Pierpont, Harris and my
self the car was empty. Barris, trim,
stout, ruddy and bronzed, sat drum
ming on the window-ledge, pulling a
short fragrant pipe. His gun-case lay
beside him on the floor.
"When I have white hair and years
of discretion," said Pierpont, languid
ly. "I'll not flirt, with pretty serving
maids; will you, Roy?"
"No," said I, looking at Harris.
"You mean the maid with the cap in
the Pullman car?" said Pierpont.
"Yes," said Pierpont.
I smiled, for I had seen it also.
Harris twisted, his crisp gray mus
tache and yawned.
"You children had better be tod
dling off to bed," he said. "That lady's
maid is a member of the secret ser
vice."
"Oh," said Pierpont, "one o" your
colleagues?"
"You might present us, you know,"
I said; "the journey is monotonous."
B] /^_
"Except for Pierpont, Barris and Myself, the Car Was Empty."
Harris had drawn a telegram from
his pocket, and as he sat turning it
over and over between his fingers he
smiled. After a moment or two he
handed it to Pierpont, who read it
with slightly raised eyebrows.
"It's rot—l suppose it's cipher," he
said; " I see it's signed by Gen. Drum
mond—"
"Drummond, chief of the govern
ment secret service," said Harris.
"Something interesting?" I inquired,
lighting a cigarette.
"Something so interesting," replied
Harris, "that I'm going to look into it
myself—"
"And break up our shooting trio —"
"No. Do you want lo hear about it?
Do you, Hilly Pierpont?"
"Yes," replied that immaculate
young man.
Harris rubbed the amber mouth
piece of his pipe on his handkerchief,
cleared the stem with a bit of wire,
puffed once or twice, and leaned back
in his chair.
"Pierpont," he said, "do you re
member that evening at the United
States club when Gen. Miles, Gen.
Drummond and i were examining that
gold nugget that Capt. Mali ad had?
You examined it also, I believe."
"I did," said Pierpont.
"Was it gold?" asked Harris, drum
ming on the window.
"It was," replied Pierpont.
"I saw it, too," said I; "of course it
was gold."
"Prof. La Grange saw it also," said
Harris; "he said it was gold."
After a silence Pierpont asked what
tests had been made.
"The usual tests," replied Harris.
"The United States mint is satisfied
that it is gold, so is every jeweler who
has seen it. Hut it is not gold—and
yet—it is gold."
Pierpont and I exchanged glances.
"Now," said I, "for Harris' usual
coup de theatre; what was the- nug
get?"
"Practically it was pure gold; but,"
said Harris, enjoying the situation in
tensely, "really it was not gold. Pier
pont. what is gold?"
"Gokl'« an element, a metal—"
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JANUARY 28, 1909
"Wrong! Billy Pierpont," naid Bar
ris, coolly.
"Gold was an element wheu I went
to school," said I.
"It has not been an element for two
weeks," said Harris; "and, except Gen.
Drummond, Prof. La Grange and my
self, you two youngsters are the only
people except one in the world who
know it—or have known it."
"Do you mean to say that gold is a
composite metal?" said Pierpont,
slowly.
"I do. La Grange has made it. He
produced a scale of pure gold day be
fore yesterday. That nugget was man
ufactured gold."
Could Barris be joking? Was this a
colossal hoax? 1 looked at Pierpont.
Ho muttered something about that set
tling the silver question, and turned
bis bead to liarris, but there was that
in liarris' face which forbade jesting,
and Pierpont and I sat silently ponder
ing.
"Don't ask me how it's made," said
Harris, quietly; "I don't know. But
I do know that somewhere in the re
gion of the Cardinal Woods there is a
gang of people who do know how gold
is made, and who make it. You under
stand the danger this is to every civi
lized nation. It's got to be stopped,
of course. Drummond and I have de
cided that I am the man to stop it.
Wherever and whoever those people
are—these gold-makers—they must be
caught, every one of them —caught or
shot."
"Or shot," repeated Pierpont, who
was owner of the Cross-Cut gold mine
and found his income too small; "Prof.
La Grange will of course be prudent—
science need not know things that
would upset the world!"
"Little Willy," said Harris, laughing,
"your income is safe."
"I suppose," said I, "some flaw in
the nugget gave Prof. La Grange the
tip."
"Exactly. He cut the flaw out be
fore sending the nugget to be tested.
He worked on the flaw and separated
gold into its three elements."
"He is a great man," said Pierpont,
"but he will be the greatest man in
the world if he can keep his discovery
to himself."
"Who?" said Harris.
"Prof. La Grange."
"Prof. La Grange was shot through
the heart two hours ago," replied Har
ris, slowly.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
WORKER MUST LOVE VOCATION.
First Requisite for the Attainment of
Success in Any Line.
A prime qualification for success in
any art, trade or profession is the
love of it, though love alone will by no
means bring success in it. The love
must be reciprocal; that is, the voca
tion must desire its follower, for rea
sons which must remain as much a
mystery to him as to any of his wit
nesses. "She was love-worthy," says
Heine, in treating of a more passional
case, "and he loved her; but he was
not love-worthy, and she loved him
not." The fond youth, university-bred
or self-made, may have ever so great
a desire for journalism, but journal
ism will have no desire for him, un
less he has the peculiar charm for it
which commands affection in all cases.
He can only prove the fact by trying
and by longing to try with a longing
that excludes the hope of every other
reward beside the favor of the art he
wishes to espouse. Itiches, fame,
power may be in the event, but they
are not to be in the quest. The wish
to succeed in it for its own sake must
be his first motive, and the sense of
success in it must be left to add them
selves, without his striving for them.
So far as he strives for them, they will
alloy and dilute his journalistic suc
cess.—W . D. Howells, in Harper's
Magazine.
I look upon the simple and childish
virtues of veracity and honesty as
the root of all that is sublime in char
acter.—Carlyle.
ASSISTS AT A B
When Pa told us that he had lo
cated a place where we could get all
the wild African buffalo that we
wanted, I thought of the pictures I had
seen of the killing of buffalos in Amer
ica, where all the buffalo hunter had
to do was to ride a horse after a herd
of the animals, that couldn't run faster
than a yoke of oxen, pick out a big
bull and ride long side of him and
fire bullets into his vital parts at about
ten feet range, until his liver was
filled full of holes, and he had tho
nose bleed, and when he fell down
from loss of blood, dismount and skin
him for a lap robe. The American buf
falo would always run away and the
hunter could kill him if he had cart
ridges enough, and never be in any
more danger than a farmer milking a
cow.
I thought we would have about the
same kind of experience with African
buffalo, only we intended to lasso
them, and bring them to camp alive
for the show business, but instead of
the African buffalo running away from
you, he runs at you on sight, and tries
to gouge out your inside works with
his horns, and paws you with his
hoofs, and when he gets you down
he kneels down on you, and runs horns
all through your system, and rolls over
on your body like a setter dog rolling
on an old dead fish.
The African buffalo has a grouch,
as though he bad indigestion, from eat
ing cactus thorns, and when he sees
a man his eyes blaze with fire, and he
gets as crazy as an anarchist, and
seems" to combine in his makeup the
habits of the hyena, the tiger, the
man-eating shark and the Texas rat
tle-snake.
I wouldn't want such an animal for
r
Pa Had to Put His Foot on Their Necks and Acknowledge Himself TheiF
King and Protector.
a pet, but Pa said the way to get buf
falo was togo after them, and never
let up until you had them under your
control. So we started out under Pa's
lead to capture African buffalo, and
while the returns are not all in of the
dead and wounded, we know that our
expedition is pretty near used up.
The African buffalos live in a marsh,
where the grass and cane grow high
above them, and the only way you
can tell where they are is to watch the
birds flying around and alighting on
the backs of the animals to eat wood
ticks and gnats. The marsh is so
♦hick with weeds that a man cannot
go into it, so we planned tb start the
airship on the windward side of the
marsh, after lining up the whole force
of helpers, negroes and white men,
and building a corral of timber on the
lee side of the marsh. Pa and the
cowboy and I went in the airship, with
these honk-honk horns they have on
automobiles, and these megaphones
that are used at football games, and
Pa had a bunch of Roman candles to
scare the buffalos.
When the fence was done, which 50
men had worked on for a week, it run
in the shape of a triangle, or a fish
net, with a big corral at the middle.
Mr. Hagenbach sent up a rocket to
COULDN'T FOOL HIM
Once a denizen of the up-state re
gions, where whiskers grow in plenty
and umbrellas bulge at will, decided
to visit New York. But he decid
ed to visit the bewildering metrop
olis quite as a man of the world—not
to be taken in by the wicked men,
who, as he understood, made a busi
ness of deceiving the guileless up
statflr. Hence he arrived at the Grand
Central looking very, very wise, and
notify Pa that he was ready to have
him scare the buffalos out of the
marsh and down the fence into the
corral.
Pa had the gas bag all full, a mile
across the marsh, tied to a tree with
a slip noose, so when we all got set
he could pull a string and untie the
slip noose.
Well, everything worked bully, and
when Pa tied her loose we went up
into the air about 50 feet, and Pa
steered the thing up and down the
marsh like a pointer dog ranging a
field for chickens.
It was the greatest sight I ever
witnessed, seeing more than 200 buf
falo heads raise up out of the tall
grass and watch the airship, looking
as savage as lions eating raw meat.
First they never moved at all, but
we began to blow the honk horns, and
then we yelled through the mega
phones to "get out of there, you sawed
off short horns," and then they began
to move away from the airship across
the marsh, and we followed until they
began to get into a herd, nearly on
the other side of the marsh, but they
only walked fast, splashing through
the mud.
When we got almost across the
marsh Pa said now was the time to
fire the Roman candles, so we each
lit our candle, and the fire and smoke
and the fire balls fairly scorched the
hair of the buffalos in the rear of the
herd, and in a jiffy the whole herd
stampeded out of the marsh right to
ward the fence, bellowing in African
language, scared half to death, the
first instance on record that an Af
rican buffalo was afraid of anything
on earth.
We followed them until they got to
the fence, but only about 100 got ieto
the corral, the others going around
the fence and chasing the keepers Into
the jungle and hooking the negroes in
the pants, and some of the negroes are
running yet, and will no doubt come
out at Cairo, Egypt.
Mr. Hagenbach and the white men
got up <n trees, and watched Pa and
the airship, and when we got where
the fence narrowed up at the corral
Pa let the airship come down to the
ground, and anchored it to a stump
and yelled for the boss of the expedi
tion and the men to come down out
of the trees and help capture some of
the best specimens, so they came
down and tore out the wings of the
fence and placed them across so we had
the buffalos in a pen, and then Mr.
Ilagenbach, who had been getting a
little jealous of Pa, came up to him
and shook his hand and told him he
was a wonder in the capturing of wild
animals, and Pa said don't mention
it, and Pa took the makings and made
himself a cigarette and sihoked up, and
Mr. Hagenbach asked Pa how we were
going to get the buffalos out. of the cor
ral, 'cause they were fighting each
other in the far end of the pen, and
Pa said you just wait, and he sent
for the cages, enough to hold about ten
proceeded, first of all, to visit the col
lection of wax figures at the Eden
musee. He was engaged in looking
critically at one of the most life-like
groirps on exhibition there, when a po
liceman suddenly plucked him by the
sleeve. The up-stater turned. "You
mustn't smoke in here," sail the police
man, severely. A look of wisdom be
yond the power of words to describe
came over that up-gtatwr'g face. Con-
of the buffalos, and we let the gas out
of the airship, and went into camp,
right there, and Pa bossed things for
about two days, until the buffalos got
good and hungry, and then we backed
the cages up to an opening in the
fence and put hay in the far end of
the cages, and the herd began to take
notice.
We wanted the big bulls and some
cows, and nature helped us on the
bulls, 'cause they fought the weaker
ones away from the cages, and walked
right up the incline into the cages, and
Pa went in and locked the doors, and
Some of Those Negroes Are Running
Yet, and Will No Doubt Come Out
at Cairo, Egypt.
when we got the cages full of bulls
and started to haul the cages to camp
by the aid of some of the negroes who
had returned alive, by jingo, the cows
followed the cages with the bulls in,
and you couldn't drive them away.
We loaded the gas bag onto a sort
of stone boat, and Pa rigged up a
couple of ox yokes and in some way
hypnotized- a few cow buffalos, so he
could drive them, and they hauled the
stone boat with the airship to camp
and we got there almost as soon as the
cages did, and Pa was smoking as'
contented as though he was walking oa
Broadway, and with an ox gad he
would larrup the oxen and say: '"Haw,
Buck," like a farmer driving oxen to
plow a fiel(j.
Pa got his wild oxen so irame be
fore we got to camp that they would
eat hay out of his hand, and when
we rounded up in our permanent camp,
and looked over our stock, and killed
some of the buffalos that had followed
the cages, for meat for the negroes,
and lit some sky rockels and fired
them at the balance of the herd to
drive them away from camp, the ne
groes, who had always had a horror
of meeting wild buffalos, thought Pa
was a superior being, to be able to
tame a whole herd of the most savage
animals, and they got down on their
knees and placed their faces in the
dust in front of Pa and worshiped him,
and they wouldn't get up off the
ground until Pa had gone around and
put his feet on the necks of all the
negroes in token that he acknowl
edged himself to be their king and pro
tector, and the wives of the negroes
all threw their arms around Pa and
hugged him until he got tired, and he
said he had rather light buffalos than
be hugged by half-naked negro wom
en that hadn't had a bath since Stan
ley discovered them, but Pa appre
ciated the honor, and Mr. Hagenbach
said Pa was the greatest man in the
world.
The next day we shipped the buffa
los to the coast, and had them sent
to Berlin, and when we got the mail
from headquarters there was an order
for a lot more tigers, so I suppose we
will be tigering as soon as the open
season is on.
The idea is that. we must get all
the animals we can .this year, for it Is
rumored that Roosevelt is coming to
Africa next year to shoot big game,
and all of us feel that wild animals
will be scarce after he has devastated
Africa.
We got short of salt pork and some
time ago Pa salted down some sides
of rhinoceros, and yesterday was the
[ day to open the barrel. Pa showed
the cooks how to fry rhinoceros pork,
and I tell you it made you hungry to
smell rhinoceros frying, and with
boiled potatoes and ostrich eggs, and
inilk gravy, made from elephant's milk,
we lived high, but the next day an
epidemic broke out, and they laid It to
Pa's rhinoceros pork dinner, but Pa
says any man who eats eight or nine
fried ostrich eggs is liable to indi
gestion.
Gee, but this is a great country to
enjoy an outing In!
(Copyright, 190S, by W. G. Chapman.)
(Copyright In Great Britain.)
But Not Many.
Some men are so attentive to their
wives that you might think they weia
riot married.—Exchange.
tinuing brazenly to smoke, he re
marked: "Tut, tut. Go away. Don't
you think I know that you're made of
wax ?"
Good Record of Punch.
Many world-famous poems, some
light, bright and witty, such as W. S.
Gilbert's "Bab Ballads," others serious,
dignified and sad, such as Tom Tay
lor's magnificent tribute to the mem
ory of Abraham Lincoln and Hood's
"Song of the Shirt," first saw th«
light in Punch, or Tha London
varL