THE FIKE OF HOME,
I hear them tell of far-off climes,
And treasures grand they hold—
Of Minster walls where stained light falls
On canvas, rare and old.
My hands fall down, my breath comes fast,
But ah, how can I roam?
My task I know; to spin and sew,
And light the fire of home.
Sometimes I hear of noble deeds;
Of words that move mankind;
Of willing hands that to other lands
Bring light to the poor and blind.
I dare not preach, I cannot write.
1 fear to cross the foam;
Who, if I go, will spin and sow
And light the fire of home?
M7 husband comes, as the shadows fall,
Fromethe fields with my girland boy;
His loving kiss brings with it bliss
That hath ne base alloy.
From the new-plowed meadows, fresh and
brown,
I catch the scent of the loam;
*‘Heart, do not fret, "tis something yet
To light the fire of home.”*
SM
A GOOD STORY,
“The gentleman on the left, Kate—
do you know him? He has looked fre-
quently toward youn.”
“Has he?”
“Who isit?”
“I can't tell, I have not seen him.”
“Suppose you look?”
«1 prefer not. I came tosee the p'ay.
Is not Helen Faucet superb?”
“So, so, I wish you would tell me
who that gentleman on the leftis, I
am sure he knows you, and he is strik-
ingly handsome.”
““At present the stage interests me,
Besides, if men are rude enough to stare
at strangers there is no oceasion for us
to imitate them.”
“Your ladyship has no curiosity?”
“Not any, I exhausted it some time
»"
ul
0.
Her ladyship was not telling the truth;
she was intensely enrious, but it pleased
her at that time to pique the honorable
Selina Dorset. That strange sympathy
that makes us instantly conscious of a
familiar glance, even in a crowded
building, had solicited her regard just
as Selina had advised her of it. If she
had not been asked to look toward her
left, she would probably have done so;
as it was, she resolutely avoided any
movement in that direction.
The play finished in a tumult of ap-
plause, Lady Kate Talbot forgot every-
thing in her excitement, and as she
stook up, flushed and trembling, she
inadvertently turned toward the left,
Instantly she recognized a presence with
which she ought to have been familiar
enough.
The gentleman bowed with an extreme
respect. Lady Kate acknowledgad the
courtesy in a manner too full of aston-
shment to be altogether gracious, and
the elaborate politeness of the recog-
nition was not softenad by any glance
implying a more tender intimacy than
that of a mere acquaintance,
My lady was silent all the way home,
and for some reason Salina was not dis-
posed to interrupt her reverie, It did
not seem to be an unpleasant one,
Kate's faco had a brighs flush on it, and
her eyes held in them a light—a light
that resembled what Selina would have
not been already married, aud her des-
tiny apparently settled.
“Selina, when you have got rid of all
that lace and satin, come up to my
room; I have something to say to you.”
Selina nodded pleasantly, BShe was
sure it concerned the gentleman on the
left, She had no loye affairs of her
being neither literary or charitable, her
time went heavily onward, A little bit
of romauce—nothing wrong, of course,
but just a little bit of romance, especial-
ly if connected with the cold and proper
Lady Talbot—would be of all things
the most interesting.
She was speedily unrob ed, and with
her long black hair hanging loosely over
her pretsy i gown, she sought
my lady's room. y Talbot sat in a
dream-like stillness, looking into the
bright blaze on the hearth. She scarce-
ly stirred as Selina took a large chair
beside her, and scarcely smiled when
she lifted one of her loosened curls,
and said, “What exquisite hair you
have, Kate! True golden,”
*“Yos, it 18 beautiful, I know that, of
course,”
“Of what are you thinking so intent.
Iv?”
“Of the gentleman on our left to-
night,”
“Ah, who is he? He seemed to know
yon.”
**He ought to know me much better
than be does. He is my husband, Lord
Richard Talbot.”
“Kate!”
““1t is true”
‘I thought he was in Africa, or Asia,
or Earope, or somewhere at tha end of
the world.”
“‘He is now in Bogland, it seems, I
suppose he has just armved, I haye
not seen him before,”
then?”
“Where is he
“1 presume in the wing of this
raansion, 1 police there are more
lights thar usual in it to-night, His
ts are there,”
“Now, Kate, do tell ma, all, dear.
You know I love a romantic love affair,
and I am sure this is one.”
“You were never more mistaken,
Selina, There is no love at all in the
affair. That 1s the secret of the whole
position, I ht ss you were stay-
ing bere this w and might probably
see or meet my lord, it was better to
make all olear to you, People are so
apt to associate wrong with things they
do not
“To be sure, dear, I suppose Lord
ou have had a little dis-
Richard and
ment, Now, if I could only do
auything toward a reconciliation, I
should be so happy, you know.”
“No, Selina, there has been no quar.
rel, and you ean do nothing wt a be-
tween us, Idon't want you to ,
Just be kind enough to ignore the whole
circumstances, Lord hard and 1
understood each other nearly four years
ago.”
“But jt ir nol four years since you
aoarried?”
“Just four years— yesterday.”
*‘And my lord has bees away"
“Three years, eight months and
eighteen days, so far as I kuow.”
““Well, this is a most extraordinary
thing, and very, very sad, I must say.”
“It might easily have been sadder. I
am going to tell you the exast truth,
and I rely upon your honor and discre-
tion to keep the secret inviolable.”
“My dear Kate, I would not name it
for the world.”
“Listen, then, One night, when I
was scarcely 17 years old, my father
sent for me to his study. I had known
for months that he was dying, He was
the only creature that I had to love,and
I loved him very tenderly. 1 must
mention this also, for it partly explains
my conduct that the idea of disobeyin
him in anything had never presente
itself to meas a possibility. This night
1 found with him his life loog friend the
late Lord Talbot, and the present lord,
my husband, I was a shy, shrinking
girl, without any knowledge of dress or
society, and very timid and embarrassed
in my manners, Then my father told
me that it was necessary for the good
of both houses that Richard sud 1
should marry, that Richard had con-
sentod, and that I must meet a few
frienbs in our private chapel at7 o'clock
in the morning a week later. Of course
these things were told me in a very
gentle mauner, aud my dear father, with
many loving kisses, begged me as a last
favor to him to make no objection.”
“‘And what did Lord Richard say?”
*[ glanced upat him, He stood near
a window looking over our fine old park,
and when he felt my glance he colored
deeply and bowed, Lord Talbot said,
rather angrily, ‘Richard, Miss Esher
waits for you to speak.” Then Lord
Richard turned toward me and said
something, but in such a low voice that
I did not catch its meaning, ‘My son
says you do him a great honor—and
pleasure,” exclaimed Lord Talbot, and
he kissed me and led me toward the
unwilling bridegroom.
“Of course 1 ought to have hated
him, Selina, but 1 did not. On the
contrary, 1 fell desperately in love with
him. Perhaps it would have been bet-
terforme if I had not. Richard read
my heart in my face, and despised his
easy conquest. As for me, I suffered
in that weak and torturing suspense of
a timid school girl in love. I dressed
myself in the best of my plain, unbe-
coming, childish toilets, and watched
wearily every day for a visit from my
promised husband; but I saw no more of
him until our wedding morning. By this
time some very rich clothing bad ar-
rived for me and also a London maid,
and I tlupk, even then, my appearance
was fair enough to have somewhat con-
ciliated Richard Talbot. Bat be scarce-
ly looked at me. The ceremony was
scrupulously and coldly performed, my
father, sunt and governess being pros-
ent on my side, and on Richard's his
father and three maiden sisters,
“1 never saw my father alive again;
he died the following week, and the
mockery of our wedding festivities at
Talbot Castle was suspended at once in
deference to my griefs Then we came
to London, and my lord selected for his
own use the left wing of this house,
and politely placed st my disposal all
the remaining spartments, 1 consid
ered this an intimation that 1 was not
expected to intrude upon his quarters,
and I scrupulously avoided every ap-
proach to them, 1 knew from the first
that all attempts to win him would be
useless, and indeed I felt too sorrowiul
and humiliated to try. Duriog the few
weeks that we remained under the same
roof we seldom met, and I am afraid I
j did pot make these rare interviews at
all pleasant, I fell wronged and mis-
erable, and my wan face and heavy
eyes were only a reproach to him.”
“Oh, what a moaster, Kate!”
**Not quite that, Selina, There were
many excuses for him, One day I saw
a paragraph in the Times, saying that
Lord Richard Talbot intended to accom-
pany a scientific exploring party whose
destination was Central Asia, I instant.
ly sent and asked my husband for an
interview. I had intended dressing
myself! with care for the meeting, and
making one last effort to win the kindly
regard, at least, of one whom I could
not beip loving. But some unfortunate
fatality always attended our meeting
and I could not do myself justice in his
presence. He answered my request at
once; I suppose he did so out of respect
and kinduess; but the cousequence was
he found me in unbecoming dishabille,
and with my face and eyes red and
swollen with weeping.
“I felt morufied at a prompt attention
so malapropos, and my manner, instead
of being winning and concilisting, was
cold and unnprepossessing. 1 did not
rise from the sofa on which I had been
sobbing, and he made no attempt to sit
down beside me or to comfort me,
“I pointed to the paragraph and asked
if it was true.
* ‘Yes, Lady Talbot,’ he said, a little
sadly and proudly; ‘I shall relieve you
of my jitseacs in a few days. 1 in.
tended Writwell to call on you to-day
with a draft of the provisions I had
made for your comfort.’
*] could make no answer, I had
thought of nny things to say, but now
in has presence | was almost [retfal and
dumb, He looked at me almost in pity,
and said in a low voice, ‘Kate, we have
both been sacrificed to » necessity in-
volving many besides ourselves, am
to make what reparation is pos-
sible, 1 shall leave you unrestricted
use of three-fourths otf my imcome, I
desire you to make your life as gay and
pleasant as you can. I have no fear
for the honor of our uume in your
hands, and I trust that and ail else to
you without a doubt, If you would
try and learn to make some excuse for
my position, I skall be grateful; perhaps
when you are not in coustant fear of
meeting me, this lesson mey not be so
hard)
“And Iecould not say a word in reply.
I just lay sobbing like a child among
the cushions, Then he hited my hand
and kissed it, sud 1 kuow he was
“And now, Kate, that you have
become the most brilliant woman in
England, what do yon intend to do?”
“Who knows? 1 have such a contrary
streak in my natore, I always do the
thing 1 donot want to do.”
| Certainly it seemed like it; in spite
of her confession, when Lord Talbot
sent the next morning to request an in-
terview, Kate regretted that she had a
prior engagement, but hoped to meet
Lord Talbot at the Duchess of Clifford's
that night,
My lord bit his lips angrily, but
nevertheless he had been so struck with
his wife's brilliant beauty that he deter-
mined to keep the engagement,
She did not meet him with sobs this
time, The centre of an admiring
throng, she spoke to him with an ease
aud monchalance that woula have indi-
caled to a stranger the most usual and
commonplace of ascquaintanceships, He
tried to draw her into a confidential
mood, but she said, smilingly, ‘My lord,
the world supposes us to haye already
congratulated each other; we need not
undeceive it,”
He was dreadfully piqued and the
pique kept the cause of it continually
in his mind. Indeed, unless he lett
London, he could hardly avoid constant
meetings which were constant aggrava-
tions. My lady went everywhere, Her
beauty, her wit, her splendid toilets,
her fine manners, were the universal
theme, He had to endure extravagant
comments on them, Friends tcld him
that Lady Talbot had never been so
brilliant and so bewitching as since his
return, He was congratulated on his
influence over her,
In the meantime she kept strictly at
the distance he himself had arranged
four years ago. It was evident that if
he approached any nearer his beautiful
but long-neglected wife, he must hum-
ble himself to do so. Why should he
not? In Lord Talbot's mind the rea-
sons against it had dwindled down to
one; but this was a formidable one, It
was his valet, Thisman had known all
his master’s matrimonial troubles, and
in his own way sympathized with them,
He was bitterly averse to Lord Talbot's
making any concessions to my lady,
One night, however, he received a pro-
found shock.
“Simmons,” said Lord Talbot, very
decidedly, ‘go and ask Lady Talbot if
she will do me the honor to receive a
visit from me?”
My lady would be delighted. She
was in an exquisite costume, and eonde-
scendod to exhibit for bis pleasure all
her most bewildering moods, It was
with great reluctance he left her after a
two hours’ visit, The next night he
stayed still longer. My lady had no
other eugagemeut, and he quite forgot
the one he made to be present at the
Marquis of Stairs’ wine party,
The following week my lady received
every morning a basket of wonderful
flowers, and a little note with them
containing a hope that she was in good
health,
One morning she was compelled to
say she was not very well, and Lord
Talbot was so concerned that he sent
Simmons to ask if he might be permit-
ted to eat breakfast with her, My lady
was graciously willing, and Lord Rich-
ard was quite excited by the permission.
He changed his morning cravat several
times, quite regardless of Simmons’
peculiar face, and with many misgivings
as to his appearance, sat down opposite
the lovely lady in pale blue satin and
cashmere and white lace,
It was a charming breakfast, and dur”
ing it the infatuated husband could not
help saying a greal many sweet and
flattering things. Kate parried them
very prettily. “It 1s well” ghe gaid,
‘that no one hears ns. If we were not
married they would think we were mak-
ing love.”
“And if we are married, Kate, why
not make love, dear?” We had no op-
portunity before we were married.”
“Ah, Richard, in fashionable life we
should make ourselves ridiculous,
Every one now says our behavior is ir-
reproachable, 1 should have dearly
liked it when only a shy, awkward, coun-
try girl; but now, my lord we should be
ianghed at.”
“Then, Kale, let us be laughed at, I
for one am longing for it. If time shall
run back and fetch the age of gold, why
not love? Let us go back, four whole
years and a hall. Will you, Kate? —
dearest, sweetest Kate?”
“We should have to run away to the
country, Richard, and now I think of it
I have not been to Esher since wo
were—married, love."
When such a conversation as this was
prolonged for five hours, it was little
wonder that my lord's valet and my
lady's maid received orders fo pack
valises and trunks, or that next day
Esher Hall was in a happy tumult of
preparation,
Love comes better late than never,
and Lady Kate always told herself that
she never could have been so happy in
those sweet old gardens with her lover
as sho was with her husband, robably
they were both as perfectly satisfied as
it is possible for human love to be; for,
greatly to the amazement of the fash-
ionable world, they not only spent the
whole summer alone in their country
home, but sotually, when they came
back tn London, nad the courage to a
pear mn the very height of the season
the same box at the opera, .
“Really, Kate,” says Miss Selina, “I
never was 80 astonished. The gentleman
on your left"
‘Is always at my right now, dear.
He will never be in the opposition
again.”
“How delightful 1"
“For us? Oh, yes, Charming.”
€
The great proportion of catches for
window blinds used by house-builders
are utterly worthless, The builders are
too mean to purchase a useful and ef.
fective article, Therefore, on a windy
day or night there is a constant slam.
ming of blinds, the makers of which
profit by the wear and tear,
IN a street car: ‘Mamma, is that
man near sighted?” I goeus not, Ger.
tie,” “Bat why does he hold that
newspaper so close to his face?’ ‘‘Be.
cause he is very bashful and is afraid
that some lady might ask him to oo.
eupy more than one seat,”
A srreax of lghtoing: “And what
is this animal callea?” ed the teach.
or of the class in natural history, ss he
pointed to a pictare of a sloth, And the
class all shouted at once: “A messon-
The Raliroad Newsboy,
There is some talk on some of the
railroads of abolisidng the newsboys,
and an esteemed contemporary recently
charged upon him in double ecluma,
But although he is not always agreeable
to the American traveler, it 1s doubtful
if the traveling public will take kindly
to the European fashion of depending
for all they want to buy en roude upon
news and notion stands at the railroad
stations, Conservative as the English.
man is in all his habits, the newsboy,
so far from being a nuisance to him, is
generally pronounced one of the decid-
ed advantages of American fravel
Even when the Englishman is disgusted
with our long, open cars and their pro-
miscuous company, looks askant eyen
at a “Pullman,” doubts the efficacy of
the bell-cord which communicates with
the engineer, and sees very litile in the
baggage check, he will admit the use-
fulness of the newsboy, One of these
travelers, Mr. Adams, of Newcastle]
England, in a recent book of impres.
sions about this country, says that
“Next to the conductor the most useful
person on an American train is the news.
boy. This young gentleman is most
incessant in his attentions, The first
time he pays the passengers a visit he
brings around a stock of newspapers,
Soon afterwards he makes his appear-
ance with an armful of books, mags -
zines and views, Leaving each passen-
ger a specimen of his wares he retires
for a short time to the corner of the
train which serves him for a store,
When he returns he collects such of the
articles as the passengers are indisposed
to purchase, ssking all in turn whether
they would like to look st anything else,
The next visit of the newsboy is in
the character of a vender of sweetments,
figs, peanuts, banapas and so forth.
Nor are these the only temptations the
newsboy offers his customers, Cigars
ean be bought of him, also fans in the
hot weather, sometimes aleo what are
ealled ‘notions,” Then on certain pic
turesque routes it is partly his business
to call the attention of the passengers
to the points of interest, the trains
stopping for a few minutes at the spot
from which the best view can be ob-
tained. Altogether the newsboy is an
exceedingly useful institution on the
American railway,” Despised as ho is;
jibea at and sworn at, often deservedly,
as he is, he would probably be called
back mn hot haste, were he once “‘put
off” the train by the railroad companies,
Like the unhappy woman's husband,
we “‘can’t get alopg with him, but, what
is worse,” we ‘‘can’t get along without
him.”
Captive Squaws,
There they come,” said a little fel-
low, as he raised a yell that fairly made
my throat ache to hear,
“And what are ‘they?’ ” I asked, still
ignorant of the cause of all the uproar,
“Why, the ranchers and the Indians,”
he said. *“*Come to the tower, senor,
and see the grand sigot,” he continued,
darting away toward the cathedral
Bat heediess of the invitation, though
still excited, I pushed my. way along
to the wall in front of the church, and
crawling to the place made for me,
looked as directed and caught sight of
a slow-moving body of men, horses,
flags, and women coming down
street. A band, leading the procession,
was performing some sort of a wild,
soul-stirring march, but the music was
hardly audible aboye the incessant
cheering by the people lining the
streets, Marching steadily toward me,
I soon saw the composition of the
strange army. Directly behind the
band came some thirty horsemen, each
man carrying the gun he bad used,
while his pistols hung from his well-
worn saddle, Of all the swarthy,
heavy -bearded and tan-browned faces
which looked upon the cheering masses,
not one wore au expression other than
stolid indifference. The funous wel
come manifested 10 a hundred different
ways never drew even a smile from the
sot lips of the brave-hearted fellows
who had risked their lives for the
people's safety. Calmly looking upon
the upturned faces, they rodeo slowly
along, as immovable and undisturbed
as the white walls of the houses they
passed, Behind the ranchmen, who
rode two abreast, came eigat men on
foot, who held long poles, which they
continually moved up and down, ard
fastened to them were eight long-haired
dark, blood-stained scaips, the proofs
of she death of so many hated Apaches,
When these hideous trophies were seen
the people grew frantic wilh joy.
Bravos resounded on all sides; men
hie
their shawls, and the excited
applauded the valiant men until ex.
haunted,
But the scalp-bearers had hardly
passed before there came the squaws
who had been taken. The minute these
enough to make the heart
the ignorant mothers, hated and
at because born in a wilderness and the
wives of sa caress their obildren
to their bremsts and hold them away
from the cruel haads out-stretched %o
strike, And yet so hated 1s an Apache
that every wail was hailed with joy by
a i victors, | saw not
one face among all the mothers there
that bad pity written upon it. Women
held their oniidren up to seo the
squaws and langhed at the unhappy
ves =a Sieh iy Oitiatinting
t its Bunday aud the people forgot
thelr religion. The spectacle was os
barbarous as that which must have
been the accompiniment of Cwsar's
entry into FE with the bleadiag
onptives from Gaul following lus victors
- "
fous shariot, Did sny of these who
locked upon thee poor women, who
were doomed to five hereafler in dresry
prisons far away and who marched now
within hearing of the bells which only
a few hours ago had eslled the people
to mass, stop to think what their re.
ligion taught, or did the clamor of the
Spanish brass up there in the graceful
towers only serve to drown their reason
and inflame their hate? The Cathedral
stocd near by, the air was soft and
beautiful, and still not one mother's
heart apparently pitied or prayed for
the unfortunates who marched to a liv-
ing death with the sealps of their hus-
bands swinging before them,
The spectacle was barbarous and in.
buman, and taught once more that
victory knows no pity and unchecked
hatred rules the day in time of war.
Later on, when the procession had
reached the plazr, tne Mayor meets the
ranchmen ani welcomes them to the
city and congratulates them on their
victory, At the end of his speech the
band plays a march again; the bells are
rung louder than ever; the bust is raised
in perfect clouds, and, after encircling
once around the squate, the pageant
passed out of sight up the street. An
hour later, when the city was enjoying
its Bunday evening quiet, I met the
Consul of the United States and asked
him what had become of the captured
women.
“They are confirned in the fort at
Vera Cruz for life,”
“And the children?”
“They are given to whoever wants
them and are brought up as servants,”
‘“Blaves, then, you mean?” I said.
“Hardly that, They will be paid
wages when they earn them, and such
lives will be better for tnem, far better,
than if they had not been captured.”
“The scalps—what is done with
them?” I asked.
“The scalps? Why, the Govern-
ment buys them, Every one brings
$200. ‘I'he Apaches have long been
the scourge of Northern Mexico,”
Later still I heard the belis calling
for prayers, Entering the dimly-light-
ed church, where patches of yellow
light fell apon the bare floor of the
place, I saw the bended forms of those
who were lisping their prayers, and I
wondered if they, so quiet now and so
devout, could be the same whom I had
seen so short a time ago shouting with
delight at the sight of a few bioody
scalps and a dozen fool-sore women,
who had never seen a church nor been
allowed to worship anything but a
crying baby, Truly, Chihuahua has
much to learn, and forgiveness first of
ail,
EE —— a
style in Newspapers,
Matthew Arnold does not like the
“fragmentary” appearance of the
American newspaper. He bas been
sccustomed to ponderous essays of the
London Times and the Standard, and
is taken by surprise at the concise and
pithy way of the American newspapers
in treating current sopios,
It would not be difficult to fill a news-
paper with editorial essays after the
manner of the London press, bat not
one in a hundred subscribers would
read them, however ably witten. The
London method of editing a newspaper
wonld oon kill the best established
newspaper in the United States.
The American looks to the paper to
contain the news of the day from all
parts of the world; and the greater the
variety the better. He wants it, also,
served up in brief, so that before going
to his business he can scan the columns
quickly aud post himself as to the daily
happenings of the poMical, religious,
business and social world,
He feels entirely competent to draw
his own calculations, What he wants
is the facts, and his intelligence sup-
plies the rest. Occasionally complica-
tions may arise where editorial expiaina-
tions are of value to him, but he pre
fem them to be brief and pointed, and
the less rhetorical display there is, the
better pleased and satisfied he is,
"=
Even the London newspapers are
proaching the American style, It
now possible to find brief editorials in
tha London News amd Telegraph, and
even a touch of personslity in them.
The columns are gradually growing
livelier, though they are yet a good
ways from the American style of treat.
ing current events,
It is highly probable that the news-
paper of the near future will be made
up almost, if not quite, exclusively of
telegraph, local news and brief editor.
ials, hose who want farther treat.
ment of subjects will seek for it in
magazines and periodicals specially de-
voted to them. First and last, h pApSE
to suit American tastes must be a e
of news, and as comprehensive in its
grasp as society is diversified in ite
nterests,
Oad Horse Names,
There were many odd names for
horses 1m early English history.
A horse in 17567 was called phant;
one foaled in 1787 was christened Crab;
Snake was another; a Flecoce-em was
foaled in 173L other names
which are odd are Jen try-me,
Jack-come-tickle-me, Whynot, Slow-em
Dainty-Davy, Huncamunca, Nobody,
Slow-and-easy and Who-would-have-
thought-it, more modern times just
ns peculiar names may be found,
instance, Big Soap, Billy-Bad-Eye,
Gurgle, Id Brown Jug, Nigger
Baby, Thistle-Digger, U-be<dam, Up
and up, Guess-not, Slow Go, SoBe,
Heel-and-toe Fannie and Stolen Kisses,
ve as these
compare
¥
one of his pups, is quite
isos to improve, Let-
the fastest dog on this
water, Others with odd
and more or less valuable in
themselves are Toodles, Robert-the-
dovil, Try-Me-Once, At-Itagain, All-
Bg ers aud Paffer.
Bupming Dowa a Deer,
They probit hunting deer with
y Fe in the hunting regions
of East,” said Wagner Ketchum, of
Astoria, who has returned home after a
twenty years’ absence in the far West.
“I suppose that is because the perisist-
ence of the dogs in following the game
to the death tends to the more rapid
depletmg of our woods, But suppose
a pack of Apache Indians should be
turned loose in any of your bunting
fields, A dozen of them would hound
more deer to digtruction in one month
than all the dogs in the diate could in
five vears,
“When an Apache hunter goes out
for a hunt he despenses with even the
scant attire he assumes in his ordinary
daily walk in life, He needs no dog,
for his quick eye detects the trail of a
deer as readily as the hound's does, no
matter how keen its scent, On the
teal, he follows it as silently as a
shadow, for he knows that he will soon
come in sight of the game, either feod-
ing or lying at rest among the bushes
When he sights the deer he steals in
within safe gunshot, If the deer’s head
is turned away from the hunter, the
latter, first taking aim, shuffels his foot
on the ground, If the deer is lying
down it springs to its feet at tite sound,
and wheels around facing the direction
from which the sound came, If 1t is
standing, it turns quickly. The Apache
hunter is always desirous of killing a
deer by shooting it as nearly in the
centre of the forehead as he can, Bo,
when the deer turns toward him, he
fires at that spot. His aim is rarely at
fault, but sometimes the deer is quicker
to discover the cause of its alarm than
the hunter is to fire, and turns for
safety in flight, An Apache's gun,
algo, not infrequently misses fire, and the
deer flees on the wings of the wind.
To permit a deer to escape after it is
once discovered is something thal no
Apache hunter is expected to do, and
it is against their code to fire a
second time. The hunter, failing to
kill his game at the first attempt, must
run it down, and it js very rare that he
fails in this chase, As the deer starts
away in its flight, leaping from 20 to
80 feet at a time, the Indian drops his
gun, and with hideous yells, starts in
pursuit, The deer at first leaves the
hunter far behind, putting forth its
greatest effort to that end. But ims
trail is as plain to the Indian as a turn-
pike road is to a white man, and be
follows it. As is its nature, as soon as
the deer is out of sight and sound of
threatening danger, it stops and waits
for developements. The sight of the
pursuing hunter starts it on its way
again, Every halt of this kind tells
against the deer, for it is not of sul.
ficient length to give it any beneficial
rest, and at every new start it is stiffer
and less active, Lhe Indian never halts,
There are runners among the Apaches
who can run for 24 hours without astop,
and can make their flve miles every
hour of the time. After the deer has
ran for two or three hours, its thirst
prompts it to make for the nearest
water, This the relentless hunter
knows to be inevitable, and when the
deer reaches that stage of the chase,
the Indian considers the victory won
There is no hope for the deer after it
stops to drink, for it takes in%o ils
parched stomach all it can. Having
laden itself with its weight of water,
the deer is no longer able to take long
leaps and cannot extend its run be-
tween the halts more than half the
former distance, The Indian's tongue
may hang swollen and white from his
mouth, and his mouth be as dry as dust
and his stomach burning with heat, but
he never swps to arink. He scoops a
handful of water from the stream as he
dashes across it, and carries it in his
mouth, where he holds it a moment
and then ejects it without taking a
swallow, If he is obliged to swim he
Jets the water run in his mouth, but
keeps it from his stomach.
“After running au hour or so, alter
the deer has quenched its thirst, the
Indian knows it is time to find some
evidence of the animal's weakening:
These he is sure to find along the trail,
in the shape of blood spots on some
rocks where the deer has stumbled on
its knees, or a patch of hair clinging to
some sharp projection, showing that
the deer's strength has faled so that
it cannot turn quickly out of the way
of obstacles, Now the Indian increases
his speed. He knows that the deer's
race is rac, In time he overtakes the
deer, which 18 now loping feebly along.
A yell startles it into a momentary buret
of speed. Then, us if appreciating the
fact that it were useless to prolong the
race, it stops and turns with all the de-
flanoce ite exhausted nature can assume,