: .
THIRD PART.
j .
THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH.
PAGES 17 TO 20.
PITTSBURG, SUNDAY, MARCH 29, 1891.
MAROUESAN STORIES
Robert Louis Stevenson De
scribes His Trip to Atuona
and Vicinity.
THE NATIVE DEATH RATE.
An Amnsinjj Experience With
Younsr Man Mo Conld Carve.
HOUSES HIDDEN IS THE FOBESTb.
I fleet of Cannibalism Upon Beliefs and
Superstitions.
REGARD EXTERTALNED FOE THE DEAD
IWEITTEX FOR THE DISPATCH.!
letter No. 0.
The road from Taahauku to Atuona
skirted the northwesterly side of the an
chorage, somewhat high up, edged, and
sometimes shaded, by the splendid flowers
ol the flamboyant; its English name I do
nut know. At the tarn of the land Atuona
came in view; a long beach, a heavv and
luud breach of surf, a shore side village
scattered among trees, and the guttered
mountains drawing near on both sides above
a narrow and rich ravine.
lis iniamous repute perhaps affected me;
but 1 thought it tne loveliest, and by far the
most ominous and gloomy, spot on earth.
Beautiful it surely was; and even more salub
rious. The healthfulness of the whole group
is amazing; that of Atuona almost in the
nature of a miracle. In Atuona, a village
planted in a shore side marsh, the houses
standing everywhere intermingled with the
pools ot a taro garden, we nuJ every conai
nou of tropical danger ana discomfort; and
yet there are not even mosquitoes not even
the hateful day flv ofNukabiva and fever,
and its concomitant, the island lefe, are
unknown.
A Very Wonderful Octogenarian.
This is the chief station of the French on
he man-eating isle of Hiva-oa. The ser
geant o! cendarmerie enjovs the style of the
nce-reident, and hoist the French colors
'ver a quite extensive compound. A China
man, a waif Iron the plantation, keeps a
reiaurat.t in the rear quarters of the vil
i ige, and the mission is well represented bv
.e b sters' school and Brother Michel's
liuriu Tather Oreus, a wonderful octoge
u nan, his frsme scarce boned, the fire of
) i! eie undimmed, has lived, and trembled,
sod suflered in this place since 1813.
Again and again, when JIoipu bad made
i'Cua biandy, tie has been driven iroru his
the nut for present refreshment, the sandal
wood for a precious gift, and the stick, in
the simplicity of his vanity, to harvest pre
mature praise. Only one section was yet
carved, although the whole was pencil
marked in lengthi, and when I proposed to
buy it, Poni (for that was the artist's
name) recoiled iu horror; but I was not to
be moved, and simply refused restitution,
or I had long wondered why a people who
displayed iu their tattooing so great
a gift of arabesque invention,
should display it nowhere else.
Here, at least, I had found something of
the same talent in another medium; and I
held the incompleteness, in these days of
world-wide brummagem, for a happy mark
of authenticity. Neither my reasons nor
my purpose had I the means of making clear
to Poni; I could only bold on to the stick,
and bid the artist follow me to the gendarm
erie, where I should fiud interpreters and
money; but we gave him, in the meanwhile,
a boat call in return tor his sandal wood.
The Whistle Slude a Sensation.
As he came behind us down the vale he
sounded upon this continually. And con
tinually, from the wayside houses, there
hrook and under fathoms of cool foliage, we
struck a house upon a well-built paedae,tbe
fire brightly burning under the popoi-sbed
against the evening meal; and here the
cries became a chorus, and the bouse folk,
running out, obliged us to dismount and
breathe. It seemed a numerous family, we
saw eight at least; and one of these honored
me with a particular attention. This was a
mpther,of anagedcountenance.but withhiar
still copious and black. On our arrival I
could see that she remarked me, but instead
of ofiering any greeting, disappeared at
once into the bush. Thence she returned
with two crimson flowers. "Goodbyl" was
her salutation, uttered not without coquetry;
and as she said it, she pressed the flowers
into my hand "Goodby! I speak Inglis."
Once Had a Whalcrman Lover.
It was from a whalerman, who (she in
formed me) was "a plenty good chap," that
she had learned my language; and I could
not but think how handsome she must have
been in those times of her youth, and could
not but guess that some memories of the
dandy whalerman prompted her attentions
to myself. Nor could I refrain from won
dering what had befallen her lover; in the
MUMMIES OF PERU.
Fannie B. Ward Pays a Visit to an
Aboriginal City of the Dead.
THOUSANDS BURIED IN THE SAND.
The
Bodies Are Dried and the Eyeballs
Chanced to Rich Jewels.
HISTORY UNRAVELED FROM GRATES
c.
MSt3
HE BROUGHT T7S A COCOANUT.
poured forth little groups of girls in crim
son or of men in white. And to these must
Poni pass the news of who the strangers
were, of what they had been doing, of why
it was that Poni had a boat whistle, and of
whv he was now being haled to the vice
refdency, uncertain whether to be pun
ished or rewarded, uncertain whether he had
lost a stick or made a bargain, but hopeful
on the whole, and in the mean time highly
consoled by the boat whistle. Whereupon
he would tear himself away from his parti
cular group of inquirers, and once more
we would hear the shrill call in our wake.
The next day I made a more extended
circuit in the vale with Brother Michel.
We were mounted on a pair of sober nags,
suitable to these rude paths; he weather
was exquisite, and the company in which I
IK THE FOREST.
bouse into the woods. "A mouse that dwelt
in a cat's ear"had a more easy resting place;
.md yet I hav never seen a man that bore
!es mark of years. He must show us the
hurch, still decorated with the Bishop's
artless ornaments of paper the last work of
industrious old hands, and the last earthly
amusement of a man that was much of a
t ero In the sacristy we must see his
sacred vessels, and, in particular, a vest
ment which was a "vraie cunosite." be
cause it had been given by a gendarme. To
the Protestant there is always something
embarrassing in the eagerness with which
grown and holv men regard these trifles;
but it was pretty and touching to see Orens,
his aged eves shining iu his head, display
ins sacred treasures.
A Hot-House Coiered hy Clouds.
The vale behind the village, narrowing
kttifilv to a mere ravine, ?as choked with
profitable trees. A river gushed in the
midst. Overhead the tall coca palms made
a primary covering; above that, Iroru one
vail of the mountain to another, the ravine
was roofed with cloud, so that we moved be
low, amid teeming vegetation, in a covered
house of heat. On either hand, at every
hundred ards, instead o the houseless, dis
emboweling paepaes of Xukahiva, popu
lous houses turned out their inhabitants to
cry "ICaoha!" to the passers-by.
The road, too, was busv; strings of girl',
iair and lout, as in less favored countries;
men bearing bread fruit; the sisters, with a
little guard of pumls; a fellow bestriding a
nore passed and greeted us continually,
aud now it was a Chinaman who came to
the gate of his flower vard, and gave us
Good-day" in excellent English and a lit
tle farther on it would be some natives who
set us down by the wayside, made us a feast
i mumniv at) pie, and entertained us as we
cle with drumming on a tin case.
Death Reaps a Itlch Harvest.
With all this fine plenty of men and fruit,
death is at work here also. "The population,
according to the highest estimate, does not
exceed O00 in the whole vale of Atuona; and
vet, when I once chanced to put the ques
tion, Biotner Michel counted up ten whom
he knew to be sick beyond recovery. It
was here, too, that I could at last gratify my
runositv with the sight ol a native house in
tne very article of disolution. It had
lallen flat along the paepae, its poles
sprawling ungainly; the raius and the
mites contended against it; what remained
seemed sound enough, but much was gone
alieady; and it was easy to see how the
inject consumed the walls as if they had
ln-en bread, and the air aud the rain ate
mm them like vitriol.
A little ahead 01 us a young gentleman,
erv w ell tattooed and dressed in a pair of
vlnte trousers and a flannel shirt, had been
marching unconcernedly. Of a sudden,
uithout apparent cause, he turned back,
look us in possession, and led us undis
suadblr along a liypath to the river's edge.
A Specimen of Native Canine.
There, in a nook of the most attractive
amenity, he bade us to sit down; the stream
splashing at our elbow, a shock of non
decript greenery enshrining us from above,
and thither, after a brief absence, he
brought us a encoanut, a lnmp of sandal
wood, aud a stick he had began to carve
found myself, no less agreeable than the
scenes through which I passed.
Penetrating the Interior.
We mounted at first by a steep grade
along the summit of one "of those twisted
spurs, that from a distance, mark out
provinces ot sun and shade upon the
mountain side. The ground fell away on
either hand with an extreme declivity.
From either hand, ont of profound ravineB
mounted the song of falling water and the
smoke of household fires. Here and there
the hills of foliage would divide, and our
eye would plunge down upqn one of these
deep-nested habitations. Aud still, high in
front, arose the precipitous barrier of the
mountain, greened over where it seemed
that scarce a hare-bell could find root,
barred with the zig-zags of a human road
where it seemed that not a goat could scram
ble. And in truth, for all the labor that it cost,
the road is regarded even by the Marquesans
as impassable; they will not risk a horse on
that ascent; and those who lie to the west
ward come aud go iu their canoes. I never
knewa hill to lose so little on a near ap
proacha consequence, I must suppose, of
its surprising steepness. When we turned
about I was amazed to behold so deep a view
rain and tmire of what seaports he had
tramped sincet then; in what close and
garish drinking dens had found his pleasure;
and in the ward of what infirmary dreamed
his last of the Marquesas. But she, the
more fortunate, lived on in her green island.
Tne talk, in this lost house upon the
mountains, ran chiefly upon Mapiao and
his visits to the Casco; the news of which
had probably gone abroad by then to all the
island, so that there was no paepae in
Hiva-oa where they did not make it the sub
ject of excited comment.
Not much beyond we came upon a high
place iu the foot of the ravine. Two roads
divided it, and met in the midst. Save for
this intersection the amphitheater was
strangely perfect, and had a certain ruder
air ot things Roman. Depths of foliage
and the bulk of the mountain kept it in a
grateful shadow. On the benches several
voung folk sat clustered or apart, and
Tadema might have painted that scene of
tempered light, and beautiful, bright
clothed and pensive youth, scattered among
ruins.
Interested In the Girls.
One of these, a girl perhaps 14 years of
age, buxom and comely, caught the eye of
juromer juicn.-i. wny was sue not at
school? she was done with school cow.
What was she doing here? she lived here
now. Why so? no answer but a deepen
ing blush. There was no severity in Brother
Michel's manner; the girls own confusion
told her 6tory "Elle a honte," was the
missionary's comment, as we rode away.
Near by in the stream a grown girl was
bathing in a goyle between two stepping
stonea, and it amused me to see with what
alacntv and real alarm she bounded on her
many-colored clothes. Even in these
daughters of cannibals shame was eloquent.
It is in Hiva-oa, owing to the inveterate
cannibalism of the natives, that local be
liefs have been most rudely trodden under
foot. It was here that three religious chiefs
were set under a bridge, and the women of
the valley made to defile over their heads
UDon the roadway; the poor, dishonored fel
lows sitting there (all observers agree) with
streaming tears. Not only was one road
driven across the high place, but two roads
intersected in its midst. Theie is uo reason
to suppose that the last was diue of purpose,
and perhaps it was impossible entirely to
avoid the numerous sacred places 01" the,
islands. But these things are not done
without results.
Their Regard for Their Dead.
I have spoken already of the regard of
Marquesans for the dead, making (as it
does) so strange a contrast with their uncon
cern for death. Early on this day's ride,
for instance, we encountered a petty chief,
who inquired, of course, where we were go
ing, and suggested, by way of amendment,
"Why do you not rather show him the
cemetery?" I saw it; it was but newly
opened, the third within eight years.
They are great builders here in Hiva-oa;
I saw in my ride paepaes that no European
dry-stone mason could have equalled, the
black volcanic stones were laid so justlv,
the corners n ere so precise, tde levels so
true; but the retaining wall of the new
graveyard stood apart, and seemed to be a
work ot love. The sentiment of honor lor
the dead is tbereiore not extinct. Aud yet
observe the consequence of violently coun
tering men's opinions.
Of the 'four prisoners in Atuona jail,
three were of course thieves; the fourth was
there for sacrilege. He had levelled up a
piece of the graveyard to give a feast upon,
as he informed the Court and declared he
had no thought of doing wrong. Whv
should he? He been forced at the point o'f
rCOKBXSFOXDXXCB OP THE DISPATCH. 1
San Marcos e Akica, Chile, March 2.
O my mind there is so
more interesting region
on the western sideof the
continent than this
which by right belongs
to Peru, but was seized
by Chile during the re
cent war. Approached
by steamer, the most
conspicuous feature of
the shore is an enorm
ous promontory just
south of Arica, called
the Morro, which rises
almost perpendicularly
out of the Pacific to a height of 1,200 feet,
and then slopes ofi at a steep grade in the
sandy plain behind it
The face of the great rock is seamed,
wrinkled and corroded, and it is full of
dark caverns and inaccessible grottos, where
thousands of sea-birds, and nobody knows
what strange forms of marine life, find re
fuge. Behind the town, sweeping back
from the Morfo, is a great windrow of yel
low sand which forms a kind of amphithe
ater, unrelieved by tree or shrub or blade
of grass.
eyes were preserved, but it is now a com
monly accepted theory that they were
never human optics, but
those of cuttle-fish, with
which the more perish
able eyes of the subject to
be mummified were re
placed. But they are none the
less curious, and are
really beautiful things
flat on one side, round
and smooth on the other,
bright, amber-lice yel
low, holding light as an
opal, and varying in size
from the tip of your little
finger to the end of a man's thumb. They
areeagerly sought for the settings of pins,
sleeve buttons, etc., and are durable as most
jewels. Everybody remembers the story that
went the rounds of the press a few years ago
how Tiffany, the New York jeweler, was
sent a number of these mummified eyeballs
to be made into a necklace lor some fair lady;
and how two or three of the workmen em
ployed in polishing them died before it was
discovered that their sudden demise was due
to the fine dust which flakes off from these
relics of the tomb.
E5
w
THEKULESOMUGBL
Wakeman's Second Letter From the
Great School of England.-
THE ABSENCE OF FLDNKEYISM.
ALQKO THE BEACH AT ANTOITA.
behind, and so high a shoulder of blue sea
crowned by the whale-like island of Mol
tane. And yet the wall of mountain had
not visibly dwindled, and I could even have
fancied as I raised my eyes to measure it,
that it loomed higher than before.
A Halt in the Forest
We struck now into covert paths, crossed
and heard more near at hand the bickering
of the streams, and tasted the coolness of
those recesses where the houses stood. The
birds sang about us as we descended. All
along our path mv guide was being hailed
by voices: "Mifcael Knoba, MikaeTl"
From the doorstep, from the cotton patch or
out of the deep grove of island, chestnuts
these friendly cries arose aud were cheerily
answered as we passed.
In a sharp angle of a -leu. on a rushinc
a bayonet to destroy the sacred places of his
own piety; when he had recoiled from the
task, he had been jeered at for a supersti
tious fool. And now it is supposed he will
respect our European superstitions as by
second nature.
Bobert Xoms Stevenson.
A Preposterous Request
New York Telegram.
Photographer Now, my friend, keep
your eye fixed on that picture and look
pleased.
Victim (recogniziug portrait of his wife's
mother) Say, mister, you don'l happen to
have anything else you can nail up there,
do you askull and cross bones, for instance?
j
All this ridge, and the desert for miles
around lt.is one vast cemetery of the ancient
inhabitants, crowded with the dried-up
bodies of tbose who once fished from their
balsas in the bay, or cultivated the narrow
valley on whose borders they were1 bnried.
When workmen were digging up the sand
to fill Arica's nier. and were opening a
track for the railway that leads to Tacna,
they found mummies everywhere not only
humble fishermen wrapped in their nets,
and lowly tillers of the soil in shrouds of
braided rushes, but now and then the body
of a chief or other personage of extraordi
nary consequence, enveloped in a thin layer
of beaten gold. These fared worse than the
humbler cadavers, for while the latter were
left comparatively undisturbed, los ricos
now grim and ghastly as the poorest were
stripped bv rude bandsof everything valu
able, and their crumbljpg., bones tossed, un
covered, by the wayside. " T
It seems a strange thiqg to deliberately
set out on a grave-robbing expedition; but
in this part of the world it Is fashionable to
go mummy-hunting, and to search the ab
original cemeteries for the curious articles
they may contain besides dead Indians.
The Arica burying ground must once have
been of enormous extent, lor though a large
portion of it has been washed away by the
sea during the last century or two, miles of
it yet remain. The spades of inquisitive
people have dug up considerable areai, in
places here and there; yet the great bulk
of it is entirely undisturbed, and will doubt
less remain so until, in the lapse of ages,
the slowly encroaching Pacific shallswallovr
it all.
A Mummy Hunt In the Desert
We went out on horseback, about five
miles from Arica, having sent some peons
ahead with shovels. It is not quite safe for
one or two persons to go by themselves, for
highwaymen are abroad in the land, and
even the workmen might be tempted to mis
chief if anything valuable were unearthed.
However, people bent on such gruesome
errands as disturbing the dead are not likely
to hunt alone, but prefer plenty of company
to keep their spirits up.
Arrived at the desert, you may dig any
where and cannot go amiss of a grave. In
this rainless region, protected by the mag
netic sand, nothing can decay, and the con
tents of the tombs look as if they were put
there yesterday, instead of .
many centuries ago.
There is no consuming
insect, and no moisture to
produce decay. Flesh
dries without decomposi
tion, wood and vegetable
matter petrifies, while fab
rics and articles ot stoneor
clay will "keep" forever.
The earlv Peruvians pre
served their dead some
thing after the manner of
the Egyptians, except that
these are always in a sit
ting posture, knees drawn up to the chin,
and hands clasped about the knees, head
and all enveloped fiist in dyed cotton cloth,
bqund arouud with braided ropes of llama
wool much like the ropes made by Andean
Indians to-day the whole uncanny bundle
Inclosed within another netting of ropes, or
en a basket-like case of braided rushes.
How the Bodies Are Found.
Remove the cloth and the features are
found well preserved even, to their expies
siou, which is usually that of extreme ter
ror and agony, confirming the assertion of
historians that those about to die were
placed in what was considered the proper
position for mummifying and firmly bound
with ropes before breath had left the body
and death stiffened the muscles. The teeth
are always perfect, and the hair sometimes
grown unnaturally long in the grave has
generally turned a reddish-brown by con
tact with the nitrous earth.
A clew to the extent of the aboriginal
population, and some knowledge of their re
ligion, arts and customs, mav be obtained
from the millions of bodies that are buried
in the drifting sands. As the soldier going
on a march, takes his cooking kit, canteen,
blanket and other portable treasures, so did
the belief in a future life cause these dead
Peruvians to be well equipped lor their
journey from this world to another. One
may find in their craves weapons' for war
and for hunting, fishing tackle, apparatus
for cooking aud weaving, water jugs, copper
knives and other utensils, cuds and clatters
I of gold and silver, spoons, strings of, beads,
r H aI m A A tt lis 4 a n "L . A. . l S
iuuia, buiuus, iingi iu euuri, everyiniujj
supposed to be required by the spirits of the
dead to set up their primitive housekeeping
anew in she Happy Country.
A Find of Petrified Eyeball.
Our peons dug down about five feet deep,
in several different places, and unearthed
half a dozen well-conditioned mummies
two of which I afterward shipped to the
United States with their wrappings undis
turbed. The most curious things we found
that day were not the rings of beaten gold
encircling bony fingers, or water jars of
quaint designs in molded clay, or spindles
with thread still on them, just'as the weaver
laid down her work some hundreds ol years
ago but the petrified eyeballs, which a
careful digger may always find, seldom in
serted in the fare oflhe mummy, but fallen
mlf nmnntr thn urpiinniiimr KTnr!in
science cannot comprehend how these J
The Station of the Cadavers.
The quality of the wrappings, and the
various articles found in the graves, enables
one to judge pretty correctly what wa3 the
condition in life" of the" occupant. The
plebeian dead were buried in such shallow
graves that sometimes earthquakes tossed
them up to view, or winds uncovered them.
In order to utilize all the arable land, the
ancient inhabitants used to pile up the
stones that encumbered the ground into
great heaps. There are thousands of stone
piles all over the country, and nearly every
one, holds mummies. CiMr. E.'G. Squier's
description ot one that he uncovered answers
well for the rest. He says: "Tne dead man
sat alone among the stones, wrapped in
rustic cloth, with some beanpods and ears of
corn pressed between his breast and knees.
At his feet, enveloped in coarse cotton cloth.
were two objects ot interest, obviously con
nected with his superstitions. The first was
a kind of mask, or idol, cut out of wood,
bearing a resemblance to the carved idols
brought from distant Pacific islands. It is
painted on the face and has holes on
the top and sides, through which
thin cords, still remaining in place,
were passed, as if to attach them
in front of some object. A projection be
neath the chin, apparently designed to fit
into a socket, suggests the possibility that
it was carried sur
mounting a pole, or
staff. There was also
a wooden bow), carved
with a border repre
senting birds running
around its rim, packed
full of layers of vari
ously colored alpaca
and vicuna wool, in perfect preservation.
Between each layer pebbles were deposited
that bore some faint likeness to animals, a
little strengthened by art. There were frag
ments of crystallized quartz, and a very
good carving of an ear ot corn."
Household Deities of the Peruvians.
Father Arriaga, in his rare book on
"Idolatry in Peru," calls these pebbles,
(canopes) the household deities of the early
Peruvians. He says that bezoar stones and
small quartz crystals were most esteemed;
and that a stone, carved in imitation of an
ear of corn, was considered a great treasure.
In the cemeteries around Lima the mum
mies areometimei put in layers of tombs,
one above another, three or four deep. Per
haps the most interesting one which Mr.
Squier opened in the second layer down,
andevidently belonging to a family in mid
'dle"circumstances was about four feet
square, three feet deep and walled with
aaobes. It contained five bodies, a middle
aged man; a full-grown woman, a girl of
14 years, a boy some years younger and an
infant. The baby was placed between the
father and mother; the boy by the side of
the man, and the girl cuddled up close to
the woman. Each was enveloped in a
braided net-work of coarse grass, bound
closely around the body by cords of the same
material. Under the man's outer wrapping
was another, of stout, plain cotton cloth,
fastened with a variegated cord of llama
wool. Next came an envelope of cotton
cloth of fine texture, which, when removed,
disclosed the mahogany-colored corpse,dried
and shrunken, but well preserved.
Must Have Been a Fisherman.
Passing around the neck and carefully
folded oyer the knees, on which the head
rested, was a fishing net, made of the twisted
fiber of the agave, the threads fine as the
finest used to-day and nicely knotted.
Wrapped in a cloth at his feet were some
fishing lines ol various sizes, copper hooks,
barbed like ours, and copper sinkers. Un
der each of his armpits was a roll of white
alpaca wool, auu behind the calt ot each
leg were a few thick, short ears of corn. A
small piece of copper had been placed in
his mouth, corresponding, perhaps, with the
"obolos" which the ancient Greeks put into
the mouths of their dead for a fee to Charon.
The wife, beneath the same coarse outer
wrapping of braided reeds, was enveloped
in a blanket of alpaca wool, finely spun,
woven in the style known as three-ply, iu
two colors, brown and white, and an elab
orate, diamond-shaped pattern, in which
were representations of monkeys climbing
up and down. Beneath this was a soft,
closely woven cotton cloth, 20 yards long,
rolled" round and round the woman's body.
In one hand she held a comb, made bv set
ting the rays of fishes' fins into a piece of
dwarf palm trees, and in her other hand
were the remains of a fan with a cane handle,
Irom the upper points of which radiated the
faded feathers of parrots and humming
birds. Bound her neck was a triple neck
lace of shells, and between her body and
bent-up knees were several domestic imple
ments, among them some spindles half cov
ered with spun cotton.
A Wallet of Thick Cotton.
The most interesting article was a wallet,
made of two pieces of thick cotton cloth oi
different colors, ten inches
long by five broad. The
lower end terminated with
a fringe, and at the upper
end ol each of the lour cor
ners was a braid, the
strands neatly plaited to-
wrthpr higher lin. Trip
whole was carefully folded
and tied by the braids, and
contained soiu lima beans,
a few nods of cotton, some
chalcedony beads and several thin pieces of
silver, each pierced with a hole.
The cirl-mummy was seated on a box of
braided reeds, which was 38 inches long, 14
inches wide and 8 inches deep, and hud a
cover, hinged on one side'and fastening on
the other. In it were childish playthings,
rude specimens of knitting, with places
showing where stitches had been dropped;
tiny spindles, 'implements f6r weaving, and
braids of irregularthickness, evidently kept
for the sake ot contrast with others better
cone. There were needles of bone and of
bronze, a comb, a little bronze kni.e, and a
fan similar to that of the mother, butsiualler.
The body was wrapped precisely like the
woman's; her hair was braided and laid
around the forehead, encircling which was
also a cincture ol white cloth, ornamented
with little silver spangles. A thin, nanow
bracelet of silver still huug on tier arm,
and between her feet was the dried body oi
a parrot, which had doubtless been her pet.
Having spent a Iougdaya't mummy-hunt-jng,
we rode'back to Arica, across the desert
in the gathering twilight somewhat awed
by what we had seen and by thoughts nat
urally induced of the mutability of all
thincs earthly; but feeline; ourselves im
measurably richer, not only by reisonof
the two mummies before mentioned, but
with a treasure-trove ot petrified eeballs.
spindles, combs, needles, water jars and a
carved wooden face (whether mask or idol I
do not know) to add to my already hetero
geneous "collection" ni "home. Drawings
of them are sent to illustrate this article.
Fasnie B. Ward
Something Abont the Gaines That Have
Hade Jl World-Famous.
RUM CUTS FROM SIXTH FORM LADS
rCOltRESrOXDKfCB Or THE DISPATCH.!
Bugbt, Esc, March 20. AH boys at
Rugby school must enter between the
ages of 12 and 15 years, and must leave the
school at the end of the next term after they
have reached the age of 19 years. There
are 96 boys who are schooled free, or partially
so', on behalf of the Laurence Sheriff foun
dation fund. These 90 boys form three
classes, known as "old foundationers,"
"major" and "minor" "foundationers."
The old foundationers nnmber 50, and
they must be the sons of persons who have
lived in, or within five miles of, Kugby
since 1868. These receive instruction free
of all charge. The major foundationers are
12 boys selected, on examination, from the
townsfolk aud people living within the five
mile limit, and qualified by attendance at
the subordinate school, who, 1 ike the old
foundationers, receive their instruction free.
The 24 minor fonndationcrs must have the
same qualifications as to residence and
preparation as the majors. These secure
their tuition for one-balf the usual fees.
The 96 foundationers may compete with all
other students for the many Bugby prizes.
Prizes Almost Innumerable.
Probably no other boys' school in the
world offers so many and such varied prizes.
To name them in the brie'est manner would
require more than a column's space in this
paper. Aside from the Queen's gold medal
prize for an English essay on some histor
ical subject, I have had counted out to me
by my companions upward of 75 prizes, the
value of the lowest of which is two guineas.
On the, line of excellence iu scholarship
there are numberless gradings and distinc
tions. The great goal to be reached in Bugby
school life in the "Sixth Form" of the
upper school, and the life ofa prtepostor in
that. There are 15 praepostors. These con
stitute the "upper bench" of the upper, or
highest school in Bugby. The dignity and
privileges obtaining are alone secured
through splendid scholarship; and all
Bugby traditions warrant tbe lad who has
reached thih emiueuce through intellectual
pluck in the ree and ungrudged exercise of
his rights to "fag" those beneath him to the
very limit of his inclination. It is not car
ried to tbe same extent it was in "Tom
Brown's" time; but his experiences, though
somewhat exaggerated, give the best de
scription extant of theevery-day workings
of the system in Bugby school.
Means Both Honor and Cash,
Tbe next aud the hizbest reward be
stowed upon superior scholarship at Bugby
is that ot "Exhibitioner." It is not only a
great honor in English school life to be
kuown as a "Bugbv Exhibitioner," bnt it
is by no means an empty honor. There are
two classe?, major and minor "Exhibi
tions;" and three "majon" and four "mi
nors" are awarded each year, on election by
"external examiners" appointed by the
Bugby Governing Board, Every major ex
hibitioner receives 60, and every minor
exhibitioner 30 per pear, practically ?300
and $150 per year scholarships, good any
where that proper use may be made of them
for four years; their full vaiue therefore be
ing respectively ?1,200 and 5600. Oxford
and Cambridge secure these splendidly
trained youths iu about equal numbers.
As was noticed in my preceding article
on Bugby, Dr. Arnold, as long ago us 1828,
removed all the irresponsible boarding
house vampires wno tattenea upon Kugby
scholars and put in their places masters of
the school. This not only created direct
responsibility, but insured good treatment
to the boys. The more popular a master
made his house, the higher he stood socially
id Bugby, with tbe students, with the gov
erning board, and besides it increased his
profits through an increase of boarders.
The system has been maintained, and from
time to time commodious halls have been
built. There are now seven of these ex
clusive of the "School House" proper, and
tbe boys living at each house are dis
tinguished by their "colors," and each
house takes the name of the master in
cbarge, while the boys at each boarding
hall receive the house name as a general
appellative.
One Daj's Routine at Rugby.
I give the everyday routine at Rugby just
as my young "LowerMiddle" Iriend rattled
it ofi to me: "Well the 6:15 morning bell
wakes us, but we don't want to get up.
Then another bell rings at 6:50 for five min
utes. We've got to get in our places in
chapel in that time to be 'called over,' aod
if we're too lazy to make it, it means a 'lick
in;r,' that's all. A'ter service we march in
order to our different 'form' rooms, and say
lessons till 8:15. Then we have 15 minutes
to buy any little luxuries, like penny loaves
the house-bread's prettv dryl and then
comes breakfast. From 9:15 to 1:15, lessons;
and dinner at 1:30. We get a rest-spell Irom
din jer until 3, and then lessons go on again
until 6, except Tuesday, Thursdays and
Saturdays. Them's half-holidays."
Every boy has to join the games then,
unless he's got good excuse. Sometimes we
get off by shamming a sore foot, and many
other way, well ki.own to us hovs. But
whatever we're doing at G o'clock games,
sauntering or study, everything's dropped,
aud we give a grand rush for 'tea.' After
tea in winter, and alter 7:15 iu summer,
tonied Jockiug-up. JNououy likes that.
Then we have to pitch in on 'prepantiou'
that's getting onr lessons for tbe next fore
noonuntil 9 o'clock, when they give us a
very light supper that don't make anybody
dream. Then it's go to bed, and no fooling,
or it means another 'licking,' sure as fees
and marshals, that's all!"
Known Everywhere for Its Games.
The supervision of all Rugby games is
wholly in the hands of the bovs themselves.
This also includes the management of the
great "School Close," the uueqaled play
ground ol Rugby. The details oi the man
agement are delegated to a committee of five
boys locally called the "Big School Levee."
This board consists ot the head of the
school, the head of tbe school house, the
captains of football and cricket, and one
other chosen by these four. This games'
board levies taxes to be paid by all lor the
support oi school amusements, subject to
approval by the head master. J t is also,
from the boy's standpoint, the grand coun
cil or senate of the school, to be called to
gether at any time to consider any matter per
taining to the scholars' interests at the insti
gation of all, or lor ordering any action
where it is desirable the whole school shall
share such us rebellion against too dry
bread or ancient prunes, boycotts upon tuck
shops lor unsavory or underweight penny
loaves; or lor thrashing tbe insolent "luuts"
(uon-schoolmen) of the village. The head
lellow of the House arranges the games,
and, as my young iriend apprNes me, by
universal consent "does the licking." I ,
when called on, jl boy does not play, but
"iuiiks" and goes botanizing, swimming, or
fishing, a note is sent to him containing the
dread words: "See me at mystudy at2:15."
The boy goes and is given "200 lines" to
write; a terrible puuislimeut to any lad.
But if he has committed the unpardonable
crime of "minching" 'roai cricket, in the
language of my young friend, "you are or
dered to kneel on a stool, bend over a chair,
while a 'Sixth Form' fellow fetches out a
sixpenny cane a yard and a bait long, and
gives you six rum cuts; so of course, you
ain't in love with the 'Sixth-Formers V "
. .Edqab L. Wakeman.
AW
A FANTASTIC TALE, INTRODUCING HYPNOTIC THEORIES.
"VyKITTES FOB THE DISPATCH
BY F. MABION CRAWFORD,
Author of "3Ir. Isaacs," "Br. Claudius," "A. Roman Singer," and
Many Other Stories That Have Taken Rank as
Standard Literature.
CHAPTER XVIL
"She hates me with an extreme hatred."
said Kafka to the Wanderer. "Her real
interest lay in sbowing you how terri
ble that hatred could be. It is not pos
sible to conceive of anything more diabol
ically bad than what she did to me. She
made me her sport yours, too, perhaps, or
she would at least have wished it. On that
holy ground where my people lie in peace
she made me deny my faith, she made me, in
your eyes and her own, personate a renegade
of .my race, she made me confess in .the
Christian creed, she made me seem to die
for a belief I abhor. Can you conceive of
anything more devilish? A moment later
she smiles upon me and presses my hand,
and is anxious to know of my good health.
And but lor you I should never have known
what she had done to me. I owe you grati
tude, though it be for the worst pain I ever
have suffered. But do you think I will for
give her?"
"You would be very forgiving if you
could," said the Wanderer, his own anger ris-
assistance of his people. The matter would
end in a few days in the Wanderer being
driven from tbe country, while Israel
Kafka would be left behind to work his
will as might seem best in his own eyes.
There was Keyork Arabian. So far as it
was possible to believe in the sincerity of
any of the strange person among whom the
Wanderer found himself, it seemed certain
that the sage was attached to Unornaby.
some bond of mutual interests which he
wou!d be loth to break. Keyork had many
acquaintances and seemed to possess every
where a certain nmount of influence and
command a certain amount of respect;
whether because he was perhaps a member
of some widespread mysterious society of
which the Wanderer knew nothing, or
whether this importance of his was due to
his personal superiority of mind and wide
spread experience of travel, no one could
say. But it seemed certain that If Unorna,
could be placed for the time being in a safe
refuge, it would be best to apply to Keyork
to insure her further protection. Meanwhile
that refuge must be found, and Unorna
must be conveyed to it witnout delay.
The Wanderer was admitted without
question. He fodnd Unorna iu her accus-
8HHl:i
ZJmmM mm
TJKOKKA IN THE COKVFKT CELL.
ing again at tbe remembrance of what he
had seen.
"And do you think that I can love stU17"
"No."
Israel Kafka walked the length of the
room and then came back and stood before
the Wanderer and looked into his eyes. His
face was very calm and resolnte, the flush
had vanished from his thin cheeks and the
features were set in an expression of irre
vocable determination. Then he spoke,
slowly and distinctly.
"Yon are mistaken. I love her with all
my heart. I will therefore kill her."
The Wanderer had seen many men in
many lands and had witnessed the effects of
manv passions. He gazed earnestly into
Israel Kafka's face, searching in vain lor
some manifestation of madness. But he was
disappointed. The Moravian had formed
his resolution jn cold blood and intended to
carry it out. His only folly appeared to lie
in the announcement of his intention. But
his next words explained even that.
"She made me promise to send you to her
if you would go," he said. "Will you go
to her now?"
"What shall I tell her? I warn you that
since "
"You oeed not warn me. I know what
you would say. But I will be no common
murderer. I will not kill her as she would
have killed me. Warn her, not me. Go to
her and sav, 'Israel Kafka has promised be
fore God that he will take your blood in ex
piation, and there is no escape from tbe man
who is himself ready to die.' Tell her to fly
for her life, and that quickly."
"And what will you gain by doing this
murder?" asked the Wanderer, calmly. He
was revolving schemes for Unorna's safety,
and halt amazed to find himself forced iu
common humanity to take her part.
"I shall free nivself of my sbameiu loving
her at the price of her blood and mine. Will
you go?"
"And what is to prevent me from de
livering tou oyer to safekeeping before you
do this deed?"
"You have uo witness," answered Kafka,
with a smile. "You are a stranger in the
city and in this country, and I am rich. I
shall easily prove that you love Unorna,
and that you wish to get rid of me ont of
jealousy."
"That is true," said the Wanderer,
thought ullv. "I will go."
"Go quickly, then," said Israel Kafka,
"for I shall loilow soon."
As the Wanderer left the room, he saw
the Moravian turn toward the place where
the keen, splendid Eastern weapons hung
upon the wall. (
As the Wanderer left the room, he saw
the Moravian turn toward the place where
the keen, splendid Eastern weaponB hung
upon the wall. He knew that the case was
urgent and the danger great. There was no
mistaking the tone of Israel Kafka's voice
nor the look in his face. Nor did the savage
resolution seem altogether unnatural in a
man of the Moravian's breeding. The Wan
derer had no time and but little inclination
to blame lnuiselt lor tbe part he had played
in disclosing to the principal actor the na
ture of the scene which had taken place in
the cemetery, aim tne immediate conse
quences of that disclosure, though wholly
unexpected, did not seem utterly illogical.
Israel Kaika's nature was Eastern,
violently passionate, and, at the same
time, iong-sufleriiig in certain direc
tions as only the fatalist can be.
But there was scant time for reflection as he
hastened toward Unorna's house. His pres
ent mission was cle.ie and simpie enough,
though by no means easy oi accomplish
ment. What Israel Kalka had told him
was very true. Should he attempt a de
uuuciition lie would have little cbauco of
being believed. It would be easy euongh
for Kafka to bring witnesses to prove his
own love lor Unorna and the Wanderer's
intimacy with her during the past month,
and the Iatter's consequent interest in dis
posing summarily ol his Moravian rival.
A stranger in the land would have small
ljope of success against a man whose an
tecedents were known, whose fortune was
reputed great, and who had at his back the
whole gigantic strength of tbe Hebrew in
terest in Prague, if he chose to invoke the
tomed place. She had thrown aside her
furs, and was sitting in an attitude of deep
thought Her dress was black, and in the
solt light of the shaded lamp she was like
a dark, marble statue, set in the midst of
thick shrubbery in a garden. Her elbow
rested on her knee, her chin upon her beau
tiful, hcivy hand; only in her hair there
was bright color.
She .knew the Wanderer's footstep, but
she neither moved her body nor turned her
head. She lelt that she grew paler than be
fore, and she could hear her heart beating
strongly.
"I come from Israel Kalka," said the
Wanderer, standing still bctore her.
She knew from his tone how hard his face
must be, and she would not look up.
"What of him?" she asked, in a voic-
without expression. "Is he well?"
"He bids me say to you that ha has prom
ised before heaven to take your life, and
that there is no escape from a man who is
ready to lay down his own."
Unorna turned her head slowly toward
him, aud a very toft look stole over her
strange face.
"And you have brought me his message
this warning to save me?" she said.
"As I tried to save bim from you au hour
ago. But there is little time. The man is
desperate; whether mad or sane I cannot
tell. Make haste. Determine where to go
for safety, and I will take you there."
But Unorna did not move. She onlv
looked at him, with an expression he could
no longer misunderstand. He was cold and
impassive.
"I fancy it will not be safe to hesitate
long," he said. "He is in earnest"
"I do not fear Israel Kafka, and I fear
death less," answered Unorna deliberately.
"Why does he mean to kill me?"
"I think that in his place most very human
men would feel as he does, though religion,
or prudence, or fear, or ail three together,
might prevent them from doing what they
would wish them to do."
"You too? And which of tbe three would
prevent you from murdering me?"
"None, perhaps though pity might"
"I want no pity. least of ail from you.
What I have done, I have done for you, and
for you only."
Tbe Wanderer's face showed only a cold
disgust. He said nothing.
"You do not seem surprised," said Unorna.
"You know that I love you?"
"I know it"
A silence followed, during which Unorna
returned to her former attitude, turning her
eyes away and resting her cam upon her
hand. The Wanderer began to grow im
patient "I must repeat that, iu my opinion, yon
have not much time to spare," he said. "If
vou are not in a place of safety iu half an
hour. I cannot answer for the consequences."
"No time? There is all eternity. What
is eternity, or lime, or life, to me? I will
wait for him here. Why did you tell him
what I did, if you wished me to live?"
"Why since there are to be questions
why did you exercise your cruelty upon an
innocent man who loves you?"
"Why? There are reasons enonghl"
Unorna's voice trembled slightly. "You do
uofknow what happened. How should yon?
You were asleep. You may as well know,
since I may be beyond telling you in an
hour from now. You may as well know how
I love you, and to what depths I have gone
dowu to vin jour love."
"I would rather not receive your confi
dence," the Wanderer answered haughtily. "I
came here to save your life, not to hear your
confessions."
"And when you have beard, you will no
longer wish to save me. If you choose to
leave me here, I will wait for Israel Kafka
alone. He may kill me it he pleases. I do
not care. But it you stay you shall hear
what I have to say."
She glanced at his face. He folded his
arms and stood still. Whatever she had
done, he would not leave her alone at tbe
mercy of the desperate man whom he ex
pected every moment to enter tbe room. If
she wonld not save herself, he might never
theless disarm Kafka and prevent the deed.
As his long-sleeping energy revived in him
the thought of a struggle was not disagree
able.
"I loved you from the moment when I
m
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