/ 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
UNDER WESTERN SKIES 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 BALLADS AND POEMS FROM THE 
 PACIFIC. 
 
 WHERE THE SUN SETS. 
 
 UNDER NORTH STAR AND SOUTHERN 
 CROSS. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
UNDER WESTERN SKIES 
 
 LIFE PICTURES FROM MEMORY 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANCIS SINCLAIR 
 
 * 
 
 Though East is East, and West is West — 
 And the wide sea rolls between — 
 
 Yet very worst, and very best. 
 In both spheres I have seen ! 
 
 'Tis not the hue, 'tis not the breed. 
 
 For God's hand fashioned all. 
 And heart is oak, or heart is weed, 
 
 As men stand firm, or fall ! 
 
 I have found hearts of purest gold 
 
 Under wealth's load, and poor man's pack: 
 Yet — like God's Manna gifts of old — 
 
 Rich have no more, poor have no lack ! 
 
 * 
 
 LONDON 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON AND COMPANY, Ltd. 
 
 lOO, SOUTHWARK STREET, S.E. 
 
 MCMXI 
 
CHISWICK PRESS: CHARLF.S WHITTINGHAM AND CO. 
 TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON 
 
p 
 
 S' 
 
 AUTHORS NOTE 
 
 T a late foregathering of our 
 " Cote^He of Wanderers " (the same 
 Coterie I introduced to the reader 
 ifi my preface to " Where the Sun 
 Sets"), I gleaned, and have since piU into read- 
 able shape I hope, the following adventures in 
 various parts of the zuorld. In looking them 
 over they seem to me to deserve she If -room in 
 the abodes of those old-fashioned people who yet 
 read books for their honesty of purpose and 
 truth, as well as for entertainment, and relief 
 from the weary round of every -day duties. And 
 I t7^ust that besides entertainment the reader will 
 also find in this volume some profitable thoughts, 
 which — as a critic wrote of a former book of 
 mine — will leave a pleasant taste in the mouth, 
 and wholesome sentiments in the heart. 
 
 V 
 
vi AUTHOR'S NOTE 
 
 Narratives for the truth of which the narrator 
 could vouch have always been my favourites, they 
 touch and appeal to 7ne as all the beatcty and 
 charm of fiction do not appeal. In short, I 
 have always prefe7^red stories which came from 
 memories in the heart to those constructed by 
 the genius of the head. Judging my reader's 
 tastes by my own, I have, in compiling these 
 adventures, confined the collection to scenes 
 through which I have passed, or of which I 
 have had perfect knowledge. Where I have de- 
 viated at all from facts, has only been in sub- 
 stituting assumed na7nes in cases where real 
 names might possibly have caused annoyance ; 
 and, perhaps, inventing a word, or even a sent- 
 ence here and there, when my memory was at 
 fault, or my hastily jotted hieroglyphics became 
 undecipherable, like Mr. Guppys ti'oublesome 
 notes. 
 
 F. S. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 James Melville Esquire, of Blue 
 Ridge Station 
 
 The Last Cruise of the Devonport . 
 
 Whiteskin, Redskin, and Diablo . . 
 
 The Quest of the Seahawk . . . . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 
 353 
 
 Envoi 429 
 
 Vll 
 
JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 
 
JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 Oh ! the land of Never-Never is mine with all its gold, 
 
 And the dreams a boy goes dreaming are mine — aye, twenty- 
 fold. 
 
 You may ride straight to the westward (freehold all in every 
 sense!) 
 
 From the streak o' dawn to sunset, ere you reach my boun- 
 dary fence. 
 
 I came trudging up this country with my fortune in my soul, 
 And my swag upon my shoulders — worth a quid upon the 
 
 whole — 
 Last shearing when I settled up with Bank, and men, and 
 
 store, 
 The cashier put my yearly dot at thirty thou' and four! 
 
 There be sixty thousand acres, what we call the Tussock Flat,, 
 It carries forty thousand sheep, and every one is fat; 
 There are ninety thousand yonder, which we call the Salf- 
 
 biish-ruji^ 
 And a better bit of grazing ain't beneath Australia's sun ! 
 
4 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 I own five hundred horse-flesh, counting mares and foals and 
 
 all, 
 I paid last year four thousand for a stallion from Bengal; 
 They guaranteed his pedigree back to the Prophet's stud, 
 And when you go for stock like that, then you must pay for 
 
 blood. 
 
 I gave the Gov' a pair of colts — better were never bred — 
 If they were worth a sixpence they were worth a thou' a 
 
 head! 
 Of course when I'm in Sydney, it is dinner, lunch, and ball, 
 Besides a quiet informal smoke at any morning call. 
 
 You see, I'm fixed quite nicely — freehold all, no leasing 
 
 chance — 
 And take it any way you like, 'twas a wonderful advance ; 
 A poor boy worth a quid at most, bound for some unknown 
 
 goal- 
 Just trudging, trudging, trudging with his fortune in his 
 
 soul! 
 
 I used to dray the Boss's wool through sun, and dust, and 
 
 rain. 
 It always took six weary weeks! — now my wool goes by 
 
 train — 
 In those old days of trudging, I was just plain " Maxwell's 
 
 Jt?n''- 
 But now that things are changed about, I'm Esquire, and 
 
 he's Tim\ 
 
 Of course Tim may be happier since the Bank chaps sold 
 
 him out. 
 But that is not the question I am telling you about. 
 I really do not care so much anent this fine estate. 
 And dinners with the swell elite don't muchly elevate. 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 5 
 
 I'll tell you what is in my heart, what takes the foremost 
 
 place — 
 And wakes me up at midnight with the tears upon my face — 
 It 's a bonnie cozy cot hoose, in a Glen ayont Strathmore, 
 It 's the hearts I lov'd, and lov'd me, and that I can meet no 
 
 more! 
 
 Oh! the bonnie purple heather, and the burn that leapt 
 
 between, 
 And the sky that was the bluest mortal eyes had ever seen ! 
 Oh ! the sweet hush o' the gloamin' and a far faint muircock's 
 
 call 
 That but added to the silence, with God's mercy over all ! 
 
 Ah yes ! If God would give the choice — which cannot, can- 
 not be! 
 
 To part with all that I have won, and all the pride and glee — 
 
 Oh, it's I would go a-trudging, with a light heart in my 
 breast, 
 
 But my course would be the eastward, not this dreary, love- 
 less west! 
 
 Back to all who ever lov'd me, and to all I lov'd the best. 
 And it 's then I'd find contentment, and it 's then my soul 
 
 could rest. 
 And I'd find the peace I tented when I left the Shieling 
 
 door. 
 And a grave at last beside my kin, in the Glen ayont 
 
 Strathmore ! 
 
6 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SOUTHERN CROSS 
 
 ' HE genial manager of the Bank 
 invited me to an afternoon cruise, 
 on his beautiful yacht Sea-gull, to 
 visit some of the charming spots 
 scattered around the splendid harbour of Syd- 
 ney, or perhaps I should say '' Port Jackson," as 
 Sydney is really only the city. 
 
 The Sea-gull was not supposed to be an 
 ocean-going craft, but she was admirably suited 
 to my friend's requirements, and there was 
 plenty of scope to exercise her talents in the 
 numberless bewitching coves, bays, and reaches 
 to be found in the grand expanse of water from 
 the " Heads " to Parramatta. 
 
 The Sea-gull was a dandy little steam yacht, 
 most commodious and comfortable for her size. 
 And one may judge of the care bestowed upon 
 her by the fact that each guest was invited to 
 remove his, or her, boots, and don a pair of 
 canvas slippers for fear that the immaculate 
 decks should be injured by rough soles. 
 
 My friend the Banker was an admirable host, 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 7 
 
 and the Sea-gull behaved beautifully. The en- 
 gines worked noiselessly, the coal was prac- 
 tically smokeless, and we had a splendid cruise. 
 About five o'clock on that peerless afternoon 
 the anchor was dropped in an enchanting little 
 cove near Manly Beach; and then, amid jollity 
 and good fellowship, all hands did ample justice 
 to a delightful tea. 
 
 Thereafter men and women went off into 
 groups or pairs, the men to enjoy their pipes 
 and cigars, and the ladies to compare notes on 
 domestic matters, and the late gay Christmas 
 festivities. Shortly after we started from Circu- 
 lar Quay that afternoon the Banker had intro- 
 duced me to a friend of his, the Hon. James 
 Melville, but I had had little opportunity of 
 speaking to him as his company seemed much 
 sought after by the ladies as well as the gentle- 
 men of the party. Now, however, he had got 
 himself nicely fixed choc-a-bloc forward, where 
 it was impossible to be surrounded, and where it 
 was evident to the most casual observer that he 
 wished to be alone for a brief space. But as I 
 had not had a chance to exchange a single word 
 with the Hon. James since our hurried introduc- 
 tion three hours before, I determined to ex- 
 change a word or two with him now, and en- 
 
8 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 deavour to discover what one at least of the 
 southern hemisphere honourables was like. 
 
 On pretence of having no matches, although 
 I had, I asked Melville for a light. Without a 
 word he handed me his match-box, a curiously 
 carved concern, cut out of a solid piece of bog- 
 oak. When I handed back the box, and thanked 
 him, I remarked that such a unique thing must 
 surely be an heirloom. 
 
 '*Yes," he responded; "my father, who was 
 a shepherd in the Glens, found a fine bit of bog- 
 oak one day as he was helping a sheep out of a 
 peat-bog. My father was a clever hand with 
 his knife, and he had plenty of time for practice 
 during his lonely days, and so he fashioned this, 
 and gave it to me, and I would part with all the 
 fine souvenirs I possess, and they are not a few, 
 rather than lose this little relic of a father's love. 
 You are from the Glens, like myself — or else I 
 greatly misjudge — and you know the feelings of 
 the Glen people, that wonderful characteristic 
 expressed in the touching aphorism ' we canna 
 forget.' " 
 
 At this moment a contino[-ent be^an to bear 
 down upon us, and we had to move aft as we 
 heard our banking friend call cheerily: 
 
 "Come! Come! You two men from the land 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 9 
 
 o' cakes! Nobody is allowed to hide away on 
 this ship, unless engaged in making love — with 
 my approval, of course! " 
 
 As we moved aft Melville asked me to meet 
 him at the club next morning, to have our talk 
 out. And so began a most congenial acquaint- 
 anceship, which afterwards grew into a sincere 
 friendship. 
 
 Melville gave me a pressing and most kind 
 invitation to go with him to his Station, and 
 see the life of the real Australian back country, 
 and the changes wrought there by the skill and 
 indomitable energy of man. 
 
 But before we made our excursion in the 
 Never- Never country, the Hon. James Melville 
 invited me to his town house, and introduced 
 me to his pleasant, handsome wife, and charm- 
 ing daughters, Elsie and Nora. He had also 
 two sons, but I did not meet them as they were 
 in England at Oxford, " being fitted for their 
 station in life," as my friend remarked with a 
 curious expression in his eyes ; but whether of 
 pride or sarcasm I could not at the moment 
 decide, nor have I quite decided yet. 
 
lo JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE IRON HORSE VERSUS THE BULLOCK DRAY 
 
 The journey from Sydney to " Blue Ridge " — 
 the name of my friend's Station — was by railway 
 from start to finish. But when Melville first 
 went there a very small portion of the distance 
 was by railway, the greater part being only 
 rough bush roads, or no roads at all. Now the 
 railway had civilized the country, one might 
 say, and we passed through towns, villages, 
 gardens, and farms, and then through great 
 open stretches of grazing country. 
 
 Melville's family did not go up country with 
 us upon that expedition, it being quite an im- 
 promptu plan of his to let me see some of the 
 Never- Never country in its gloomy natural 
 savage state, and also in its improved condition 
 under the artesian system. 
 
 It only took us two days easy travelling by 
 train to reach Blue Ridge Station. Melville 
 told me that it used to take six weeks or two 
 months by bullock dray in the early days ! Then 
 the journey was gradually shortened as the rail- 
 way crept slowly inland following the adven- 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION ii 
 
 turous brave men and women who faced and 
 endured the lonely, hard life of the wilderness, 
 to find for themselves and their children a home 
 which was denied them in their native land. 
 But Melville explained to me that these settlers 
 were a later invasion of the pushing white 
 race, who were quick to see and take advan- 
 tage of their opportunity when they saw the 
 Iron Horse not far off. But when Melville made 
 his advent into that part of the country, 
 through which we were now travelling luxuri- 
 ously, without labour or the slightest bother, the 
 modes of travel were by lumbering bullock dray 
 for the ordinary well-to-do settlers — and lucky 
 they were if they had a good team — horse-back 
 for the upper sort, and Shanks's pony and hump- 
 ing their bluey for the under ranks, '* cockatoos,'* 
 as all the small fry were termed by the great 
 squatters in the early days. The squatters 
 had no love for the " cockatoos." Most of the 
 large ** runs " were only held on lease at the 
 beginning, and a man might come along with 
 his wife and a son or two, and under the land 
 laws he could settle down upon any spot he 
 took a fancy to, and, after fulfilling certain simple 
 requirements, get a title to his claim. If many 
 of these sort came on to a run, they could 
 
12 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 almost ruin a big property, as they, of course, 
 always pitched upon the most fertile spots, and 
 where water was obtainable. This process of 
 settlement was known as '' picking the eyes out 
 of a run," and was looked upon with hate and 
 dread by those squatters whose runs had the 
 most attractions for the cockatoo tribe. 
 
 These matters were explained to me by Mel- 
 ville, as we passed over country now covered 
 by homesteads, but which was almost unin- 
 habited when he first saw the Never-Never 
 country. 
 
 When we came to the end of our journey, 
 and descended from the train at a neat little 
 station which was the end of the railway to 
 ** Blue Ridge," there was a well appointed 
 dog-cart awaiting us, with a tidy groom at the 
 horse's head, and everything and everybody 
 wearing such a look of contentment and well- 
 to-do-ness that I could hardly believe Melville 
 when he assured me that on the day he first 
 trudged over that very spot he was nearly 
 perishing with hunger and thirst! T/ns, on a 
 land that as far as I could see was covered with 
 orchards, and little crystal streams of life-giving 
 water, staggered me, so I wisely said nothing, 
 but did as I was told, namely, jumped up beside 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 13 
 
 Melville, while the smart groom let go the 
 horse's head — at the word of command — and 
 swung himself on to the back seat like a clever 
 acrobat, while the gay thoroughbred made a 
 pretty plunge which nearly sent me over the 
 rail and sprawling on to the road. This sports- 
 manlike start put Melville into excellent hu- 
 mour; for he gaily said to the groom> " Kangaroo 
 seems a bit fresh, Thomas! Have you exercised 
 him every day, as I told you to do when I went 
 to town ? " 
 
 *'Yes, sir! I gave him a trot every day either 
 out to the old Homestead, or out Bloody-Jack's 
 tree way, until your wire came telling me to 
 meet the afternoon train every day until you 
 arrived. And I've noticed that he got more 
 and more impatient, just like a human Christian, 
 every day that you didn't come, until at last I 
 could hardly keep him quiet with all the coaxing 
 I could do! The fact is, sir, he was wearying 
 to see you, and when he knew that you were up 
 at last he just had to jump for joy! He is a very 
 wonderful horse, sir, and I'll be bound knows 
 more in half his brains than any swagger that 
 ever set foot on this Station. And that means 
 a lot, for the swaggers are uncommon numerous 
 since your honour gave orders that all them 
 
14 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 tramping swabs were not only to have a night's 
 lodging and grub, but each one was to have 
 three days' rations for the asking, and you bet! 
 they ain't at all bashful about the asking." 
 
 My friend threw back his head and laughed 
 loud and long at the groom's speech. This set 
 Kangaroo capering again in such a lively man- 
 ner that even the accomplished Thomas had to 
 take his gloved hands out of their graceful fold, 
 and hold on tight to the rail, while Melville said 
 in a soothing tone to Kangaroo : 
 
 '' Steady, my lad! Steady, my good old Kan- 
 garoo! It's your master, my beauty! Go steady, 
 my pretty lad." 
 
 Whereupon the splendid horse dropped into 
 an even pace, cocking one ear forward, and 
 one backward, as all sensible steeds should do. 
 
 In after days, when Melville told me the story 
 of his advent into the back country, the groom's 
 reflections on what he evidently thought his 
 master's over-tenderness to the " tramp-swabs" 
 came into my mind very vividly, and added to 
 my respect and appreciation of the man who in 
 great worldly prosperity, honour, and success, 
 did not forget his humble whilom companions 
 of the road and wilderness, and did what lay 
 in his power to lighten their hard journey of life. 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 15 
 
 The little railway station was on the southern 
 boundary of Melville's Run, and it took Kan- 
 garoo fully two hours to wheel us to Blue Ridge 
 Homestead. The whole way was over almost 
 level country, with rolling downs breaking the 
 monotony here and there. As we went along, 
 I was astonished to see so much water about 
 in a part of Australia which I had been told 
 suffered from lack of that precious commodity, 
 and general aridity. When I took notice of 
 this, and asked my friend from whence came 
 the abundant supply of the life-giving fluid, he 
 simply held his whip perpendicularly, with the 
 butt-end pointing downward, and in a moment 
 I knew, by his significant gesture, that all the 
 flashing water, and consequent fertility which 
 I beheld spreading for miles on either hand, 
 was from the earth, and not from the clouds of 
 heaven as is usual in less sunny lands. 
 
 While we w^ent swinging along at eight or 
 nine miles an hour we had often to pull up for 
 Thomas to jump down to open gates to let us 
 through the paddocks. At last, as we emerged 
 from a splendid clump of Australian wattle, and 
 other native trees, in delicious bloom, we came 
 in full view of the homestead of Blue Ridge 
 Station, and a very imposing place it w^as. 
 
i6 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 The house, or rather mansion, was a fine 
 structure, and its surroundings were in perfect 
 keeping with it. Splendidly extensive green 
 lawns — so seldom obtainable in hot countries — 
 stretched far and wide around the house. Any 
 elevation or declivity had been skilfully mani- 
 pulated to give effect to the clumps, and lines, 
 and single trees growing in profusion, yet never 
 obstructing the view, only adding interest and 
 charm to the prospect at every change of one's 
 position. 
 
 When we swept up to the fine front entrance, 
 and Thomas sprang to the horse's head, with 
 the agility of twenty fewer years than, his 
 master whispered to me, were to his account, 
 a quiet looking gentleman came forward and 
 shook hands heartily with Melville, who intro- 
 duced him to me as Mr. Davidson, and added: 
 
 " Mr. Davidson is manager of Blue Ridge, 
 and what he doesn't know about the Station isn't 
 worth knowing ! " 
 
 Then we went into the house, which I found 
 as spacious inside as it was imposing outwardly. 
 I was shown into a large and finely furnished 
 bedroom, with a bath and dressing-room at- 
 tached. Subsequently I found to my astonish- 
 ment and delight that the whole splendid 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 17 
 
 establishment was more like a wealthy noble- 
 man's house of the old style in England than 
 any place I had seen in the Colonies. And 
 later it became an endless pleasure to explore, 
 under Melville's intelligent ciceronage, room 
 after room with all their art treasures and 
 colonial rarities which he had collected from 
 many sources. 
 
 I spent a delightful month at Blue Ridge; 
 part, if not all, of each day in my friend's con- 
 genial company, some days riding to different 
 out-stations and various interesting places on 
 one of the easiest-going and most sure-footed 
 nags it has ever been my good fortune to mount 
 — and I have mounted many, both in civilized 
 and uncivilized lands, in out-of-the-way corners 
 of the world. 
 
 Upto that time I had not had much experience 
 in '' artesian irrigation." I had seen some of its 
 beneficent results in Algeria and elsewhere, 
 but I had never seen anything like the grand 
 system carried out on Blue Ridge. Here were 
 miles and miles of splendid grazing land — 
 which a few years before were as barren as a 
 London pavement — now supporting tens of 
 thousands of fat, contented cattle and sheep. 
 
 As my friend and I explored Blue Ridge in 
 c 
 
i8 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 easy stages day after day, he showed me some 
 portion of country which was above the water 
 level, and which remained in its primitive state, 
 a very miserable state it was — in fact, utter 
 worthlessness. But Melville declared that he 
 would yet reclaim those parts by some wonderful 
 system of hydraulics which he explained quite 
 lucidly to me, but which I cannot explain to you. 
 
 One morning there came, by special mes- 
 senger, an imposing, broad-sealed document for 
 '' Hon. James Melville, Blue Ridge Station." 
 When my friend glanced over the contents, he 
 sighed and said: 
 
 " Heigh-ho ! The burden of greatness ! I am 
 commanded to be present in the Legislative 
 Council on the 15th instant, and this is the 
 loth. Therefore it is boot and saddle and away 
 south, as our forefathers in the bonnie glens 
 used to do at the command of the Chief, for a 
 raid into fat, lazy, merry England!" ''Ah, 
 then," I replied, ''this is to be the end of my 
 fine raid into the broad estate of the braw 
 Melvilles, and living on the fat of their rich 
 lands, and courteously entertained by the high 
 Lord of the Manor himself! " 
 
 *' Not a bit of it," retorted my friend. '' I must 
 go, but we are not going to part like a pair of 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 19 
 
 cool tramps with no more warning than 'So 
 long! ' at the turning of the road. 
 
 *' I'll tell you what you have to do! Just stay 
 where you are until I return. I cannot possibly 
 be absent more than a month — the sessions are 
 never long at this time of year. And you must 
 think what a blank look the place would have 
 to me if on my return I found you had gone ! " 
 And he held out his hand as freely as if we had 
 been chums ever since the Glen days! And I 
 clapped my hand into his with the same hearty 
 freedom. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 cockatoo's splendid leap 
 
 My friend Melville was absent at his official 
 duties for a little over a month, and I managed 
 to put in that time both profitably and pleasantly 
 mooning about the beautiful Blue Ridge Home- 
 stead, or roaming over the vast estate in com- 
 pany with Mr. Davidson, the manager. 
 
 We had some splendidly exciting rides in 
 mustering half-wild cattle on the far back rough 
 portions of the Run, which lay some twenty or 
 twenty-five miles due west from the Home 
 
20 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 Station. Of course there were stockyards and 
 paddocks, stables and men's huts, an overseer's 
 cottage, etc., this part of the estate being 
 worked quite independently of the Home Sta- 
 tion, although under the general superintend- 
 ence of the chief manager Davidson. 
 
 I passed a very pleasant, and even exciting, 
 week at * Wattle Creek," as it is called. I was out 
 every day on my faithful little cob, " Cockatoo." 
 He was one of the cleverest of the clever, and 
 what he didn't know of the tricks of half-wild 
 bullocks, and how to keep clear of their sharp 
 horns, wasn't worth knowing. Cockatoo never 
 lost his presence of mind, which is a great virtue 
 in a horse, and in a man also, I may remark. 
 Just to show you what I mean I will recount 
 one of the many incidents which often occurred 
 in mustering those five thousand head of cattle 
 on the rough ranges of Wattle Creek. 
 
 One day I got separated from everybody, 
 but this did not matter at all, as I knew the lay 
 of the land by this time quite well. Cockatoo 
 and I were coming slowly and carefully down 
 the bed of a dry creek looking hither and thither 
 if perchance we might discover a pool of muddy 
 water to cool our parched tongues. But never 
 a drop could we descry, when just as we were 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 21 
 
 nearing the plain, and were almost clear of the 
 scrub, we turned a jutting cliff, and behold! 
 there was a beautiful bower of solid rock, all 
 the upper portion, where cattle could not reach, 
 covered with the most splendid drooping bunches 
 of maidenhair and other ferns. Cockatoo turned 
 eagerly into the fairy alcove, and shoved his 
 nose into any cool corners he could reach, 
 evidently with much satisfaction. 
 
 I was on the point of dismounting to join 
 Cockatoo's hunt for a drop of moisture, when I 
 heard a noise behind us, and we both at one and 
 the same moment caught sight of a fierce bullock 
 staring at us with the glare in his eyes which 
 means the reckless madness of the over-driven 
 beast. When a bullock gets into that state he 
 becomes dangerously unmanageable, and must 
 simply be left alone until he cools down, and so 
 this savage brute had been dropped by the 
 stockmen. 
 
 I knew enough of cattle — and Cockatoo knew 
 a good deal more — to be fully aware that the 
 beast would presently charge, and that we had 
 apparently no chance of escape excepting by 
 frightening the bullock, and so making him 
 turn up or down the dry creek. But there was 
 no vestige of fear in those blood-shot eyes and 
 
22 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 fiery nostrils. It was impossible for us to escape 
 into the scrub, the cliff fenced us in on three 
 sides, and on the fourth side stood the fierce 
 beast with slaughter in his eyes, and handy 
 horns on his head two or three feet long. 
 
 Without an admonition from me, wise little 
 Cockatoo slued sharply round, faced the savage 
 bullock, and gave that startling blast which is 
 finely and tersely described by the ancient 
 writer: ''The glory of his nostrils is terrible.'* 
 And I felt the good creature's muscles grow 
 firm and hard in preparation to face our de- 
 sperate position; and as if he were intimating to 
 me to sit firm, and keep my courage up ! Then 
 the great savage beast lowered his head, and 
 came thundering at us with a bellow that made 
 the echoes roar in response. In that awful instant 
 Cockatoo's intention flashed into my mind also, 
 and I seconded the noble horse's plan to the 
 best of my ability, by holding up his head, and 
 touching his sides with my heels to show him 
 that I, too, understood, and was ready! Just as 
 the brute gave another infernal bellow, and his 
 lowered horns were within a yard of Cockatoo's 
 knees, the splendid horse made his wonderful 
 leap, viz., almost straight up — we had no room 
 for a run — touching the bullock's back with his 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 23 
 
 hind feet, thereby gaining additional impetus — 
 and landing safe and sound some yards beyond 
 the astounded and confused beast. 
 
 The gallant little nag showed no desire to 
 pause after this splendid achievement, so I let 
 him have his head, and he went over the ground 
 at a fine rate, every minute or two giving utter- 
 ance to a most comical, contented little snort — 
 altogether different from the awful war-blast he 
 thundered from his nostrils as he orathered him- 
 
 o 
 
 self together for his desperate leap. 
 
 All the bovine genus lower the head when 
 they charge. This idiosyncrasy of the race 
 Cockatoo knew perfectly well, and therefore 
 had no fear of the wicked horns when making 
 his tremendous jump. His care was to measure 
 with his eye the exact distance so as to strike 
 the bullock's back properly and make no error 
 in our dangerous game of leap-frog, and he 
 made none! thereby saving my life and his 
 own, brave, wise little horse that he was ! The 
 instant that Cockatoo and I landed from our 
 wonderful flying leap, I looked back to see if 
 the beast intended to give chase; but the last I 
 saw of him he was standing stock still, staring 
 this way and that, as if he were utterly bam- 
 boozled, which no doubt he was. 
 
24 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 After that adventure I adopted Cockatoo not 
 only as my favourite horse, but as my friend 
 and counsellor in queer, rocky, swampy, and all 
 dangerous places, and whenever he turned from 
 any suspicious-looking spot, and shook his head» 
 I never insisted upon pitting my judgement 
 against his. We must have done hundreds of 
 miles in pleasant fellowship together, and I have 
 much comfort in reflecting that all our travels 
 and adventures were delightful and mutually 
 satisfactory. I trust that the balance of his 
 mundane life will be comfortable and satis- 
 factory; and when his time comes may he rest 
 in pace, brave, good little Cockatoo ! 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE SECRET OF BLUE RIDGE PROSPERITY 
 
 Melville returned from Sydney in a little over 
 a month. His wife and daughters came up with 
 him, as well as a gay party of young friends. In 
 the great house there was ample accommodation 
 for twice as many guests, but it quite changed 
 our mode of life from our former go-as-you- 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 25 
 
 please style to the more punctilious regime of 
 the ladies. 
 
 After a few weeks of this gay and really 
 delightful life, Melville proposed to his wife 
 that he should take me over to the ''Farm," 
 which I then learned was the original Home 
 Station in the early days. It was situated about 
 thirty miles from the present homestead, and 
 was called the " Farm " because all the hay, 
 grain, and other things required for the entire 
 estate were grown there, and distributed by bul- 
 lock dray, and horse cart, wherever there were 
 good roads, or pack horses to the very rough 
 out-stations. This method of having one farm 
 to do all the farm business was found much 
 more economical and satisfactory than each out- 
 station growing its own stuff. 
 
 There was a telephone wire between the 
 Home Station and the Farm, and Mrs. Melville 
 at once got into communication with the people 
 there, to warn them of our intended invasion. 
 
 '* You see," she smilingly observed to me, 
 "my husband is accustomed to drop into the 
 farm unannounced, and they don't mind him, as 
 they are very old friends. But when he takes 
 another with him, I think it is only fair to let 
 Mrs. Maxwell know in advance, especially as 
 
26 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 she is not so young as she used to be, and 
 naturally does not like to be caught unaware." 
 
 One fine morning — but I need hardly men- 
 tion what is merely a truism in that delight- 
 ful part of the world according to my memory! 
 — Melville and I, after a cordial adieu to 
 Madam and her daughters, and a general au 
 revoir to the house party who had assembled to 
 see us start, took our seats in the dogcart, and 
 at a signal Thomas let the impatient Kan- 
 garoo have his head, and with one splendid 
 plunge we were off down the avenue in grand 
 style, followed by a merry chorus of farewells 
 and good wishes. There was hardly a breath 
 of wind stirring, but our dashing pace through 
 the paddock gave a pleasant sense of coolness 
 to the brilliant sparkling atmosphere. 
 
 We accomplished that exhilarating journey in 
 the happiest fashion, and in the smart time of 
 three hours, including four or five brief stops 
 for a few words with his men whom Melville met 
 or overtook on the road. And it was truly de- 
 lightful to witness how cleverly and willingly 
 good, handsome Kangaroo fulfilled his contract, 
 never making one disagreeable demonstration, 
 never a careless slovenly trip, never a silly scare 
 at a falling leaf, or at the sudden screech of a 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 27 
 
 cockatoo, or a laughing jackass! Just head up, 
 mane and tail flowing gracefully and comfortably, 
 one ear forward, one ear backward, and strict 
 attention to business. As we entered the farm 
 proper, the land seemed more adapted to agri- 
 culture than any I had yet seen on Blue Ridge 
 Station. Not only was there a greater abund- 
 ance of water, but the land looked dark and 
 rich, with that gently undulating surface which 
 makes it easy to plough, and, more important 
 still, to irrigate. The farm house was a typical 
 old-style station building, a long, low one-storey 
 wooden house, with a veranda back and front. 
 And although everything about the place indi- 
 cated comfort, yet there was no attempt at pre- 
 tentious style. Everybody simply rode or drove 
 up to the veranda, and hitched his horse to one 
 of the many hitching places scattered around: 
 or if it was a quiet nag a man rode, and he 
 chanced to be in a hurry, he would either ride 
 close to the veranda, and rap with his whip 
 on the floor, or he would hook his bridle to a 
 veranda post, and go in search of the overseer, 
 or see to whatever his business was. 
 
 We drove up to what was about the middle 
 of the house. There was really no door that 
 could be properly called the front door, for there 
 
28 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 were six doors opening on to the front veranda — 
 old colonial fashion, so as to save room inside 
 of the house — but Kangaroo knew exactly 
 where his master was accustomed to dismount, 
 and there he quietly came to a standstill. As 
 the overseer had notice of our coming, he was 
 at home to receive us. My friend at once put 
 me at my ease by introducing me to '* Mr. Max- 
 well, of the Farm," and also that gentleman's 
 wife — a pleasant, sensible lady a good bit past 
 middle age; indeed both Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell 
 I judged to be eight or ten years older than my 
 friend, and afterwards I found that my first im- 
 pressions were correct. Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell 
 seemed a very happy and contented couple. Ex- 
 ceedingly intelligent, and well posted on the 
 news of the world. One day I remarked to 
 Melville that these good qualities were not 
 frequently met with in the bush ; whereupon he 
 smiled a bit sadly, and said: '' I'll tell you the 
 secret by and by.'* And he did tell me after- 
 wards, and a very curious secret it was. 
 
 After the usual early station dinner, I had a 
 long read of some fine old back numbers of that 
 prince of magazines, '' Chambers's Journal," and 
 it used to be better in the old days than it is 
 now (although it is still the best magazine of 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 29 
 
 its kind extant). While I read, and enjoyed my 
 rest, Melville talked over farm matters with his 
 overseer. 
 
 In this quiet fashion began my sojourn at 
 the farm, and a very enjoyable time I had 
 of it. Plenty of riding and driving and very 
 good shooting, for many birds collected about 
 the farm for the sake of a quiet feed on the 
 splendid crops of grain, and did considerable 
 damage, although the overseer kept a tribe of 
 black fellows, with their funny families, for the 
 express purpose of scaring the beautiful thieves 
 away from the crops. 
 
 I need hardly say that I became deeply in- 
 terested in the artesian system of irrigation 
 which had made at least two-thirds of Blue 
 Ridge independent of rain! I never ceased to 
 wonder at the marvellous achievement of mak- 
 ing the barren land blossom like the rose, by the 
 miracle of forcing life-giving streams from the 
 barren ground itself, in ceaseless and abundant 
 profusion ! 
 
 Of course, artesian wells vary in their flow 
 according to depth, size of bore, force of water 
 struck, etc. Therefore well boring is a most 
 exciting work, quite as much as gold digging, 
 and if a good flow is struck it is much more 
 
30 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 profitable because it is nearly always permanent, 
 while your hopes of nuggets as a rule vanish 
 after you bottom your shaft with weary toil. 
 
 I had the great privilege of being present 
 when water was struck in a well five or six 
 miles distant from the farm homestead. My 
 friend Melville had really come to the farm at 
 this time in the hope of seeing this well com- 
 pleted. It had been a very serious undertaking 
 from the beginning. Most of the boring had 
 been through extra hard rock, and the drill had 
 now reached a depth of nearly two thousand 
 feet, and the engineers were expecting to strike 
 water at any moment. 
 
 One morning Melville had a message from 
 the engineers to the effect that the water symp- 
 toms were strong, so after an early breakfast we 
 started for the scene of operations, to be on 
 hand in case water was struck. Two thousand 
 feet is a very great depth, and the engineers 
 were expecting a grand flow, and I am happy 
 to say that they were not disappointed. 
 
 We trotted over in the dogcart in good time, 
 and found all hands in a sort of calm state of 
 suppressed excitement. To the engineers' sensi- 
 tively-attuned faculties there were strong indica- 
 tions that they were on the point of striking 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 31 
 
 water, and we had hardly taken our positions 
 at a respectable distance, when there were sharp 
 commands to the engine-driver, followed by a 
 wild rattle of chains and cranks, and a noise 
 like the first low murmur of a thunderstorm — 
 then the earth gave up her treasures of fertility 
 which had been lying hidden since the Creation, 
 or certainly since the Flood! 
 
 It was one of the fine clear sort of wells with 
 no impediment, and a flow (as was proved after- 
 wards) of over two hundred thousand gallons 
 per twenty-four hours. 
 
 It was a splendid sight to see the water go 
 straight up in the air some twenty or thirty feet, 
 and then spread gracefully like a great mush- 
 room, and fall to the earth with a splashing, 
 delicious music. Melville fairly danced with 
 delight, and shook hands with everybody he 
 could reach, and even I could not refrain clap- 
 ping my hands, and giving utterance to the wild 
 slogan of the Glens! As if to add to the hilarity 
 of the happy occasion, two or three dozen almost 
 naked blacks came rushing upon the scene, 
 capering about like mad dingos, and yelling 
 with wild excitement, and cooeeing for the rest 
 of the tribe to come and see the glory which 
 the white men had brought to light! 
 
32 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 And truly it was a sight to rouse a man's 
 soul to the wildest enthusiasm. A desert where 
 man and beast perished like withered leaves, 
 when the blessed rain fell not, now rendered 
 immune from drought and all its horrors! 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 BEGIN AT THE BEGINNING 
 
 The night following that exciting day, as we 
 sat by our cheery wood fire (the nights were 
 getting a bit chilly in spite of the hot days) 
 smoking the pipe of peace after the great ex- 
 citement of the day, Melville suddenly put his 
 pipe on the mantel, and, slapping his knee, 
 burst forth : 
 
 ''That splendid flow is worth to-day ten 
 thousand pounds in the open market. But it is 
 worth a good deal more to me in the satisfaction 
 and joy of seeing in my mind's eye the acres 
 and acres of crops and grazing which it will 
 produce, and the comforts it will bring to men 
 and animals alike! I never see a well brought 
 to a successful issue but it brings back very 
 vividly to my memory the first well ever bored 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 33 
 
 on Blue Ridge, and that was some thirty-five 
 years ago! 
 
 ''But before I tell you of that great event, I 
 must relate what led up to it, and to do that 
 properly I must simply begin at the beginning. 
 You remember that when we foregathered at the 
 Banker's picnic, I told you that I was from the 
 Glens, and that I jaloused that you were of the 
 heather also. 
 
 *' My father was head shepherd on the Duke's 
 estate, and I being his only son just followed in 
 his footsteps until I was eighteen or nineteen 
 years of age, and then my heart took a ' scunner ' 
 at the life, its narrowness, and its weary mono- 
 tony, and changeless drudgery. But it was no 
 easy matter to explain the state of my mind to 
 our calm, self-repressed household. But one 
 Sabbath morn as my father and mother, sisters, 
 and under-shepherd with his wife and a squad 
 of weans were all going to the village kirk — 
 where each one of us had gone Sabbath after 
 Sabbath all our longer or shorter lives — I told 
 my father and mother that I had made up my 
 mind to go to Australia! 
 
 " My father was a very wise man, as so many 
 of the Glen folk are, and he never angered me 
 by words of protest, at my foolish determination 
 
 D 
 
34 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 — as I know he thought it — he only laid his 
 hand on my head, and said, ' The Lord bless 
 thee, and keep thee, the Lord make his face 
 shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee, the 
 Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and 
 give thee peace.' 
 
 "Then the dear old man went calmly on: 
 ' My son ! you were born into the Glen life as 
 all our family have been for many generations, 
 and not one of all the line has ever disgraced 
 the Glen to my knowledge, and few have 
 ever left it. My two grand-uncles James and 
 William Melville fell into the same kind of 
 madness that has befallen you; and went out 
 into the great, dangerous world. James won a 
 captaincy, and fell in the French wars, and 
 William went to sea, and after winning an 
 honourable rank perished in the frozen North 
 with his commander. Sir John Franklin. Others 
 of the Melvilles fell on the disastrous held of 
 Culloden ! But never a man of them all — how- 
 ever foolish they were to leave the Glen where 
 God had placed them — tarnished the name of 
 their fathers. And wherever you go never for- 
 get that important truth. If you forget your 
 honour, you will certainly forget your God, and 
 then you will be no son of mine! ' 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 35 
 
 " That was all that was said or done upon 
 the subject. I sometimes caught my mother in 
 tears, but very seldom — our folk are not prone 
 to weep or to show their feelings like southern 
 people. 
 
 ''So I departed from the humble home of much 
 hard work, sometimes scant fare, and little of 
 what the world calls amusement; but a home of 
 all the simple virtues, love, truth, industry, and 
 thrift, which go to build up strong, brave men 
 and women. 
 
 '' I will pass lightly over my hard struggle to 
 reach Australia. Suffice it to say that I suffered 
 all the hard things which rough sailors call 
 sport, and thoughtlessly inflict upon all green- 
 horns who fall into their clutches. And I was 
 a good subject for them — an utterly ignorant 
 country-bred lad who had never seen even a 
 large boat, let alone a great ship! 
 
 '' I engaged to work my passage, a position 
 which sailors term 'Jimmy-Ducks,' and it is a 
 woeful position, rendering the victim legitimate 
 prey for all manner of tricks and downright ill 
 usage. I had not a single friend on board, all I 
 can say is that some were less brutishly cruel 
 than others. Among my most particular tor- 
 mentors was a young man some two or three 
 
Z6 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 years my senior, and considerably heavier than 
 I was in those days. Besides, he was far ahead 
 of me in sea knowledge, and knowledge is power 
 at sea, as well as on land. 
 
 '* Bill Bleach — that was my tormentor's name 
 — was always planning or executing some trick, 
 or rather outrage, upon me, much to the amuse- 
 ment of the sailors, and even of the officers, 
 although they pretended not to see. At last 
 God arranged that this evil should come to an 
 end — at least that is what I thought at the time, 
 and what I am really inclined to think yet! 
 
 *' One day the second mate called me aft to 
 sweep up shavings and chips which the car- 
 penter had left after some job or other. Bill 
 Bleach was coiling up ropes by the mainmast, 
 and of course he watched his opportunity, and 
 the opportunity came — as it always does come 
 to all who watch, either for good or evil. As I 
 came along with the broom over my shoulder, 
 and was in the act of stepping over the topsail 
 halyards which the men had left lying across 
 the deck after hoisting the sail into position, 
 Bill cleverly jerked up the rope and caught me 
 nicely on the shins, and sent me sprawling like 
 a spread-eagle, while the broom went flying 
 along the deck. There was a general loud laugh 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION Z7 
 
 from all who witnessed the trick, the loudest 
 and heartiest from the hero and originator of 
 the pretty sport. 
 
 "It was dinner-time in the cuddy, there were 
 no passengers on deck, and the only officer 
 about was the second mate. As I rose from my 
 ignominious sprawl a mighty passion seized me, 
 and a horrible desire to slay my persecutor! I 
 never learned the noble art of self-defence, as it 
 is called, but I felt at that moment the strength 
 of a giant, and I rushed at Bill Bleach with the 
 lust of murder in my soul! He knew, by my 
 look, I suppose, that I at last meant battle, and 
 he braced himself against the mast. He had 
 time to deliver one smashing blow, which I felt 
 more or less all the rest of the voyage, but it 
 was the last as well as the first, for the next 
 moment I had him by the throat, lying on his 
 back, and was pounding the life out of him with 
 my right fist, while I held him fast with my left 
 hand on his throat, and my knees firmly planted 
 on his body. 
 
 " I am really afraid that Satan so possessed 
 me at that moment that if I had been left alone 
 for another three minutes I should have had the 
 grievous sin of murder on my soul. But God is 
 ever merciful to His servants, and He remem- 
 
SS JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 bered my father's petition, and saved him the 
 disgrace and grief of his son becoming a felon. 
 
 ** When the second mate, and the men who 
 were about, saw that instead of having the 
 fun of seeing Bill give me a good licking, they 
 were going to witness the murder of that young 
 man, there was a general rush, and, with a few 
 kicks and hauls, we were dragged apart, gasp- 
 ing and raving like a pair of young maniacs. 
 
 '* Bill was confined to his bunk for a fortnight, 
 and for more than a month he showed the 
 effects of our encounter. One pleasing result of 
 my victory — for it was a victory — was the de- 
 cided improvement of the crew's manner towards 
 me. Never after that day of deadly battle did a 
 man play a shabby trick on me; nor did an 
 officer call me a ' darned land-lubber ' for some 
 trifling misunderstanding of an order. Even 
 Bleach himself, after giving me a wide berth for 
 six weeks, when he saw that the crew's improved 
 manners towards me were permanent — shook 
 hands, and hoped that we would be friends ! 
 
 *' In due time my hard voyage on the ship Isle 
 of Bute, my first and last long voyage, came to 
 an end; for I never again went home, and I will 
 never go now! It is like so many things in this 
 world, ' Too late.' 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 39 
 
 '* Before I left the old ship I went boldly aft 
 to the skipper to say good-bye. Not that I had 
 any love for him, and he had never spoken one 
 word to me, good or bad. But I had a vague 
 feeling in my simple Glen heart, that he was 
 my chief for the time being, and although I had 
 always had a lively fear of him as a great com- 
 mander, yet the knowledge that now I was once 
 more in touch with the glorious world of land, 
 and free from the lonely world of cruel sea, put 
 new courage and hope into my foolish young 
 heart. So, with all my worldly effects tied 
 safely up in a little tartan shawl, in the same 
 fashion as my mother had tied them up when I 
 left the Glen, I marched aft to the poop where 
 Captain Mackenzie was smoking his morning 
 pipe. 
 
 ^''Good-bye, sir!' said I. 'The voyage is 
 now over, and I am going on shore ! ' 
 
 " The old man seemed very much astonished. 
 He took the pipe out of his mouth, stared up at 
 the yards as if to make sure that the voyage 
 was really over, and then his eyes came back to 
 me, but he did not utter a word. Feeling that 
 there was nothing further to be said or done, I 
 repeated my 'Good-bye, sir!' and was turning 
 away, when the old man plunged his hand into 
 
40 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 his trousers' pocket, pulled out some mixed 
 coins, and put a sovereign into my hand, saying : 
 
 " * Don't change it, and then you won't spend 
 it!' 
 
 '' Grabbing it very tightly, until I should find 
 a safe repository for my fortune, I walked on to 
 Circular Quay, Sydney, and, with what courage 
 I could muster, went boldly into my future. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE NEVER-NEVER COUNTRY 
 
 ''That invasion of Australia was a good many 
 years ago, and I was only an inexperienced boy, 
 but I had brains enouQrh to know that the road 
 to success was towards the border-land of 
 civilization, where strong, willing hands — and I 
 had those — were required to subdue the wild 
 exuberance of Nature. Realizing this fact, I 
 made my way to a railway station, shrewdly 
 guessing that as Sydney was on the sea coast, 
 any railway must of necessity run inland. After 
 fossicking around, I found the station, where a 
 greasy man in dungaree trousers and jumper 
 was vigorously polishing an engine, and I asked 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 41 
 
 if he wanted a boy to help him! At this he 
 looked me all over and then laughed. I thought 
 that a good sign, so I laughed too, and picked 
 up a rag and began polishing as nearly like his 
 way as I knew how. 
 
 ''After working silently for half an hour or 
 so, the man stopped, stretched himself, took a 
 negro-head stick of tobacco from his pocket, bit 
 off a chew, and offered me a bite. I thanked him, 
 but shook my head and went on with my work. 
 The man put the stick of tobacco back into his 
 pocket, leaned against the engine, and watched 
 me at work. After a while he said: 
 
 " * Where in thunder have you come from ? 
 And what the blazes are you after — anyhow!' 
 
 " I thought the man's words and voice had a 
 kind of threat in them, so I stopped rubbing 
 and looked in his face with a sort of surprise, 
 I suppose, for he gave his leg a resounding 
 slap, expectorated copiously, rolled his quid 
 into the other cheek, laughed uproariously, and 
 said: 
 
 " ' Well, you are a sweet little cherub, I don't 
 think! going about helping poor hard-worked 
 coves with their jobs! I have been ten years in 
 this God-forsaken bloomin' country, but you 
 are the first innocent kid that I ever saw offer 
 
42 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 to lift a stick before making a bargain about 
 the payment.' Then after looking at me a little 
 longer, he asked: 
 
 ** ' Are you hungry?' and, receiving a quick 
 nod in affirmation, threw down his rags, arranged 
 his buckets, and calling to me, * Come along, 
 cherub!' led the way through a gateway into 
 a narrow street, and stopped at one of the 
 numerous little houses that were jammed to- 
 gether in the smallest possible space, and I 
 remember thinking that we had more room in 
 the Old Land, than they had in vast unpeopled 
 Australia. But that is the way that foolish 
 human creatures choke themselves to death in 
 the midst of the great open healthy lands which 
 God has given so freely. 
 
 '' There was a tap by the door, which my 
 new-found friend turned on, and fossicking 
 around found a bit of soap, washed his hands, 
 then passed it on to me, and in two minutes 
 our toilet was completed. A comely young 
 person came to the door, and, after looking me 
 over * fore and aft ' as sailors say, she said to 
 the man: 'Well! Jim Sleeper! Who have 
 you picked up this time? ' To which he replied, 
 with a cheery laugh : 
 
 " ' My dear Mrs. Sleeper! I found this newly 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 43 
 
 fledged little cherub, and as you are a religious 
 woman, I thought that you would like to give 
 him a pannikin of tea, and a doughboy. For 
 you have often told me, among other things, 
 ' Be not forgetful to entertain strangers : for 
 thereby some have entertained angels unawares.' 
 His wife — as I now could see the woman was 
 — looked sternly at her husband, and said: 
 *Jim! you needn't add blasphemy to your 
 many other sins!' But she got no further, for 
 Jim caught her round the neck and kissed her 
 with much gusto, for which liberty he received 
 a sounding slap; and then we were all on ex- 
 cellent terms, and I was Invited to partake of 
 one of the best remembered meals of my life — 
 cooked and served by a woman's hands, after 
 four months of the dismal monotony of a man's 
 slushy sea-cooking. 
 
 " I found that James Sleeper was an engineer 
 on a goods train which carried freight into the 
 country twice a week, and he told me that next 
 morning he would start on his half-weekly trip, 
 and if I wished to go into the Never- Never land 
 — as I had told him I was anxious to do — he 
 would take me as far as the rail went. And, 
 moreover, as he thought I was a willing cove to 
 work he would let me have a meal here and 
 
44 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 there on the road, if I lent a hand at discharg- 
 ing and taking on goods at the stations. 
 
 " Of course I gladly accepted Jim's terms, 
 and although I know now that he did not lose 
 by the bargain, I felt, and do still feel, grateful 
 to the kindly fellow for his and his wife's frank 
 kindness to one from whom they could by no 
 possible means hope for any return. But strange 
 to say there was a return. And the engineer 
 who made such a successful finish of the well 
 to-day is Jim Sleeper's son. And he is perman- 
 ently in my employ, with a cottage and garden 
 on the station, and what is more, a good family. 
 My old friends Jim and his wife, who through 
 their thoughtful kindness gave me my first start 
 in Australia, still live in the same comfortable 
 little house — which I made freehold for them — 
 in memory of that glorious feed when we were 
 all young and hearty, and fit to enjoy those 
 splendid doughboys. 
 
 ** At the end of my engagement with Sleeper, 
 which was the end of the railway system in 
 those days, I bade him farewell, and humping 
 my ' bluey ' in orthodox fashion, I set my face 
 determinedly towards the setting sun, for I had 
 got it firmly fixed into my young head that 
 * Westward the course of empire takes its way ' 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 45 
 
 And so I went a-trudging that day, and many 
 a weary day thereafter. I picked up odd jobs 
 as I went along, but I never stayed more than 
 a week or two in one place, so I only made my 
 grub, and a few shillings over, here and there. 
 But even this method enabled me to keep the 
 skipper's advice regarding his ' quid.' Therefore 
 I always felt myself a capitalist, for it is not the 
 amount of wealth which gives one this proud 
 feeling, it is the security of the capital which 
 does that, and mine was absolutely secure, 
 sewed up in three plies of my right-hand 
 trousers' pocket, where I could test its security 
 every hour of the day ! 
 
 '' To show you the sort of jobs I picked up, 
 I will give you a brief sketch of one. It was at 
 a little bit of a place. The farmer was anxious 
 to get in his crop of potatoes as he was depend- 
 ing on them not only as food for his family, but 
 also for barter with the store-keepers for cloth- 
 ing and other necessaries. 
 
 *' The old farmer and I worked our level best 
 at that job, for we knew — or rather he knew, 
 since I was too new a chum to know it — that a 
 sou'wester was at hand : and probably with its 
 usual accompaniment of a deluge of rain which 
 would not only end our digging operations but 
 
46 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 so flood the fields that the rest of the crop 
 would practically be lost. By strenuous exertions 
 we got ahead of that southerly 'Buster!' but 
 we had hardly gotten the last sackful safely into 
 the barn, when the storm burst upon us with the 
 peculiar snap and playful rush of the Australian 
 rain. At first it takes an old hand to know whether 
 it is only going to be a few scattering showers, 
 hardly worth while to seek shelter from, or a 
 storm that will take the country by the throat, 
 tear up great trees by their roots, flood the flat 
 land, scar the hills out of all remembered shape, 
 so that one cannot recogfnize one's own familiar 
 surroundings again, excepting by the brands 
 on the poor bleached bodies of such of one's 
 precious stock as had not managed to escape 
 to places of safety. 
 
 *' The farmer told me that that storm was the 
 worst ' southerly buster ' that had ever come 
 his way, and he had been ten years in the 
 country, and naturally had some experience of 
 its little vagaries of climate. 
 
 "He and I did our best to save his stock, 
 and for three days I performed the hardest, 
 not to say the most dangerous, work I had ever 
 done in my life. But when it was all over, and 
 I had again to take to the road, or rather bush 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 47 
 
 — for Mathew Copeland's farm was pretty well 
 beyond the sphere of roads — the thrifty * cock- 
 atoo ' never offered me a sixpence over the ten 
 shillings which he had promised for the hard 
 week's potato digging; although I had risked 
 my life several times hauling his cattle and 
 sheep out of flooded creeks ! 
 
 *' So I took my hook with small regret from 
 Mathew Copeland's abode. His old woman 
 did a little better than the old screw himself, 
 for when her husband s back was turned she 
 gave me a good sized damper, two nice packages 
 of tea and sugar respectively, and an old billy 
 to boil my tea; it had several holes which I had 
 to plug with bits of rag, but it served my 
 purpose, and I was thankful. 
 
 " Thus I departed from Copeland's, as the 
 place continues to be called to this day, although 
 the old man and woman went to their rest 
 many a long year since. I still held my course 
 towards the north-west. I cannot remember 
 that I had any very definite purpose in my 
 mind, but I know that I had some sort of a 
 fixed idea that my destiny lay somewhere in 
 this Never-Never land, and I knew well that I 
 had not struck it yet. 
 
48 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 BAD CIRCUMSTANCES. GOOD RESOLUTIONS 
 
 " When I left Copeland's the creeks were still 
 bank-to-bank full, and it was only my skill in 
 fording burns in spate — a feat I had been 
 trained to since childhood — which enabled me 
 to get along at all. But it was slow work, and 
 when my damper was quite finished, and my tea 
 and sugar reduced to a last go or two, I struck 
 such a big creek, or I should rather say rive7^ — 
 that I considered it prudent to alter my course, 
 and follow up the bank in hopes of finding 
 human habitation, or at least a safe crossing. 
 
 '' Since I had left the railway, and said fare- 
 well to Jim Sleeper six months before, I reck- 
 oned that I had tramped between three and 
 four hundred miles. This was by no means bad 
 travelling, when you take into account the fact 
 that I had to work every other week, and some- 
 times more, to supply the needful for my 
 tramping days. I never fell into the habit of 
 the usual * sun-downer,' which is to arrive at a 
 station just at sunset — when even the most surly 
 savage would hardly turn away a weary, hungry 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 49 
 
 man— and I am thankful to think that there 
 are few owners or overseers in AustraHa who 
 would refuse a feed, and a bit of sleeping space 
 in the men's quarters, if a tramp asked properly. 
 I may add that I have a comfortable hut at the 
 Homestead and at all the out-stations on Blue 
 Ridge, and no tramp is ever refused a night's 
 lodging and a feed. I once vowed a vow, in 
 one of my sore needs, that if ever I had the 
 means in my power, no hungry tramp should 
 under any circumstances be turned from door of 
 mine, and the following are the circumstances 
 under which I made that vow. 
 
 '' I had left the creek to make a short cut, as I 
 thought, to an upper bend, but it turned out to be 
 a long cut, and nearly cost me my life. I quite lost 
 the lay of the land, and travelled through dry blue 
 gum scrub the whole day, without a drop of water 
 or a bite in my mouth, excepting when in despera- 
 tion I twisted some blue gum leaves into a quid, 
 and chewed them slowly to cool my burning 
 tongue. At last, when I was nearly giving up in 
 despair, I emerged from that cursed scrub 
 country, and across some green fields I saw a 
 shanty, and a queer old-fashioned wind-mill, and 
 knowing that here were human beings and water, 
 I made straight for the house, quite regardless of 
 
 E 
 
50 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 fences or crops — which of course was very wrong, 
 but I was desperate and took no thought of what 
 I might break or trample down. As I came near 
 the wind-mill a man shouted at me, but I paid 
 no heed whatever, but dashed at the sluice that 
 caught the little trickle of water which the mill 
 was still lifting from the well, though the light 
 evening wind had hardly force enough to move 
 the creaking old thing. Oh that life-giving 
 draught ! I verily believe that I might have died 
 of repletion if that brutal cockatoo farmer had 
 not sent me spinning head-over-heels by an 
 awful blow on the back of the neck. I was so 
 far gone that when I managed to pick myself 
 up, I had no inclination to retaliate upon the 
 scoundrel for his rascally conduct, and I sat 
 down on a log trying to recover my scattered 
 senses. 
 
 " The man then opened upon me with a tor- 
 rent of abuse so foul that I cannot repeat it 
 even in a modified form — and the gist of it all 
 was ' to be gone! and never to put foot on his 
 property again.' 
 
 " There was nothing for it but to depart, and 
 this I slowly prepared to do with a heavy heart, 
 sore head, and tired feet, when a woman (I 
 once read in some book or other that there is 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 51 
 
 always a woman in the case, and God mercifully 
 sent one into my case that day) came from the 
 house, and, quite ignoring the man, handed me 
 a parcel without saying a word, and pointed 
 to a path through the fields, as if she were ad- 
 vising me to go that way, which I slowly did, de- 
 vouring wath a humble and grateful heart the 
 damper and slices of pork, which the angel, in 
 the form of a stout middle-aged woman, had 
 given me! 
 
 '' That was when I vowed that no human 
 creature should ever be turned, with my know- 
 ledge, from door of mine. And although there 
 seemed at that time little likelihood of me, a 
 poor tramp, ever attaining to the dignity of own- 
 ing a door, nevertheless I made the vow in all 
 sincerity, and God has enabled me to keep it! 
 
 *' Followinof the direction which the woman 
 indicated, I had the great satisfaction of again 
 striking the creek. Taking a hearty drink of 
 its delicious, though muddy, waters, I slept the 
 sleep of utter exhaustion, and woke up next 
 morning much refreshed. That day I kept 
 steadily up the creek in hopes of finding a 
 crossing. The further I advanced I found the 
 banks became wider apart, and in places the 
 creek showed ripples, as if the water was be- 
 
52 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 coming shallower, which gave me some hopes of 
 finding a ford ; but in this I was mistaken, the 
 ripples which I supposed to be shallow water 
 were in reality only indicative of a swifter 
 current. 
 
 ''As I plodded along, getting wearier and 
 hungrier as the day advanced, suddenly I heard 
 a horse neigh, then a dog barked, and in 
 another minute I was in the midst of several 
 men and horses. The men seemed excited, but 
 whether their excitement was caused by my 
 arrival or by some other cause I could not tell, 
 nor did I much care at the moment, as my 
 whole anxiety was to get a feed, for I was 
 simply famishing, which I soon explained to 
 them in a few forcible words! 
 
 *' Given the means, the bush is the beau-idSal 
 of free hospitality. Of course the day before I 
 did not hold this opinion, but even in that 
 extreme and exceptional experience there was 
 * a woman in the case,' who redeemed the man's 
 brutality. The men I had now foregathered 
 with soon set viands fit for a king before me. 
 And that repast of damper, cold mutton, and 
 hot tea marked an era in the journey of my life, 
 and is almost as delicious in my memory now 
 as it was delicious in my mouth that day. 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 53 
 
 " When I had consumed all I possibly could 
 of the splendid banquet I rose from my knees 
 — I had eaten in a kneeling posture, as being 
 more convenient to reach the heavenly viands 
 which were laid on nice green leaves spread on 
 the ground — and shook hands all round very 
 heartily and thankfully. After my own press- 
 ing necessities were so amply attended to, and 
 I had time to pay some attention to my kind 
 hosts, I found that there were six strong, good- 
 looking men in the company, but I could not 
 comprehend their business at all. I soon made 
 them out to be of the intelligent sort, and by 
 no means of the weary, heavy-eyed emigrant 
 class, and they had no women with them, as 
 settlers always have, poor creatures — I mean 
 the women, not the settlers ! 
 
 '' They all seemed to have a gun apiece, and 
 each man had a pistol in a neat leather case at 
 his belt. At last I concluded that they were an 
 exploring party, making a survey of the country. 
 And so they were, but not exactly the sort of 
 exploring party I had at first diagnosed them 
 to be. 
 
 '' One of the party, who seemed to be a leader, 
 questioned me very closely as to where I had 
 come from, whither I was bound, and whom 
 
54 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 I had lately met. Feeling I had nothing par- 
 ticular to conceal, I answered all questions as 
 clearly and truthfully as I could, which seemed 
 to please the men, for they invited me to make 
 their camp my home for the time being. 
 
 "Then to my great consternation, for I was 
 a tender-hearted lad in those days, they told me 
 that in crossing this stream the day before, one 
 of their number had been swept away, together 
 with his horse, which had gone mad with fear. 
 The horse was drowned, but their comrade had 
 managed to reach a little island a few yards 
 square with some scrubby bushes on it, but how 
 to rescue him was a problem which they had 
 not yet solved! He was quite beyond the reach 
 of words, and although they had some fine 
 swimming horses, it was impossible to rescue 
 the man by swimming out to him on horseback, 
 for there were no spots where a horse, or even 
 a man, could possibly land on the overhanging 
 clay banks, for more than fifteen miles down 
 stream, as they had proved by careful examina- 
 tion. It would be easy enough for a horse to 
 take the water at the place where they had 
 crossed the river the day before, as the banks 
 were low and sloping. But if a man and horse 
 were clever enough to reach the island, and get 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 55 
 
 hold of their marooned companion, it would be 
 impossible for the strongest swimmer — horse 
 or man — to swim back to the landing against the 
 swift current. So there would be no alternative 
 but to seek a landing down stream. And the 
 men declared emphatically that there was no 
 chance of effecting a landing for more than fif- 
 teen miles, and the best horse would lose cour- 
 age in such a swim, and drown. 
 
 "When I expressed surprise that none of 
 them had tried to swim over to their friend, 
 and endeavour to arrange some mode of rescue, 
 as no doubt their comrade had become some- 
 what weak by want of food, and perhaps wounds, 
 they rather shamefacedly confessed that none of 
 them had ever learned the invaluable accom- 
 plishment of substituting their arms and legs 
 for fins; and their friend who was now marooned 
 on the dot of land in the middle of the muddy 
 flood was as helpless as themselves in that 
 respect. These facts seemed to me incredible. 
 But the men's explanation was that they all 
 belonged to an inland parish with no suitable 
 swimming places, and when in childhood they 
 were taken to the sea-shore for a holiday, they 
 merely paddled about with bare feet and legs, 
 but they never had a swimming lesson in their 
 
56 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 lives, and like so many others, they never 
 realized the necessity of learning the art until 
 it was too late. Not one grown-up man in a 
 thousand ever acquires the art, some may be 
 able to struggle a few yards, but it can no more 
 be called swimming than a child's erratic marks 
 on a slate can be called writing. 
 
 '' I had learned to swim almost as soon as I 
 had learned to walk, and crossing the burns 
 when they were in spate was an achievement 
 which all the boys in the Glen learned as a 
 matter of course. And realizing that here was 
 an opportunity to put my accomplishment into 
 useful practice, I at once set about thinking 
 out some plan of rescuing the marooned man. 
 The poor fellow had now been some thirty 
 hours without food, and although we could 
 sometimes see him moving slowly about the 
 island, but never attempting to take to the 
 water, we knew his case was desperate unless 
 means of rescue were at once devised by us. 
 
 *' Youth soon recuperates from a strain such 
 as I had lately gone through, and after my 
 splendid feed, and a couple of hours of what 
 Wordsworth calls 
 
 The sleep that is among the lonely hills 
 I felt as fit as a three-year-old. 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 57 
 
 " The flood showed no signs of subsiding, so 
 we knew that if anything was to be done for 
 the man in peril, it had to be done promptly. 
 In my youthful exuberance of feeling I became 
 so excited over the terrible fate of the man who 
 was slowing perishing within sight, and almost 
 within speaking distance, of his comrades, that 
 I offered to try my best at a rescue, if they 
 promised to do their part as I directed. 
 
 "My plan was to take to the water myself at 
 any favourable spot two or three miles above 
 the island. I reckoned that that distance would 
 give me ample time to get into the latitude of 
 the island before the current carried me past. 
 Then when I reached the man I hoped to find 
 him still compos mentis enough to hold on to 
 my belt and let me tow him quietly to the 
 river bank, when it would rest with the men 
 to act promptly and judiciously to get us out of 
 the water, and hoist us up the river bank by 
 carefully arranged tether ropes. 
 
 " No sooner was my plan explained than it 
 was unanimously adopted. I have often noticed 
 how easily men are persuaded into some course 
 of action if that course relieves them of a heavy 
 responsibility, and shifts the onerous duty on 
 to the other fellow! 
 
58 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 " I need only say that my plan succeeded 
 admirably. By starting some two miles up 
 stream I got in a line with the island in ample 
 time, and when I reached it I found the landing 
 on the west side — which was the side we had 
 not been able to see from our bank — quite low, 
 and a good landing place. The marooned man 
 saw me coming, and he told me afterwards 
 that he thought I was a derelict from some- 
 where up stream. He knew that all his mates 
 were non-swimmers like himself, and would 
 drown like babies if they were chucked into 
 water, though they were heroes of strength and 
 courage otherwise. 
 
 *'When I scrambled on to the little muddy 
 island, my only scrap of what might be called 
 clothing was my belt. It was a strong leather 
 concern which a sailor made me a present of 
 on the old Isle of Bute, in admiration of the 
 way I had polished off Bill Bleach. I only 
 mention my belt because I knew when I started 
 out on the rescue of the marooned man that if 
 I were to be successful in saving him my belt 
 would play a prominent part, as that was the 
 only safe hold he could take of me without im- 
 peding my movements. I had seen strong men 
 throttled to death by drowning men clasping 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 59 
 
 them madly round the neck. Therefore I went 
 cautiously about this rather dangerous job which 
 I had so chivalrously, or perhaps I should say 
 foolishly, undertaken. 
 
 "When I had recovered myself a bit after 
 my long, though easy, paddle down stream, I 
 found the man whom I had come to rescue, a 
 tall gentlemanly looking fellow, still young and 
 lithe in appearance, but beginning to show some 
 signs of middle age. After helping me through 
 the mud and on to solid ground, he naturally 
 asked me where I had come from, and why I 
 had come! 
 
 '' I was astonished to find the man in such 
 good case as he was. He had hardly more 
 clothing than I had, but he did not seem to 
 suffer on that account. He had one article of 
 clothing only, and that he had arranged as a 
 most effective head-dress. It was one of those 
 nice old-fashioned stockings which the Irish 
 and Scotch women knit, and which are almost 
 everlasting wear. I suppose I must have smiled 
 a little, for in a moment the man knew what 
 had tickled my risibility, and smiling rather 
 sadly, he pulled it off, and showed me its quaint 
 pattern and wonderful elasticity, and said, as 
 he held it tenderly in his hands: 
 
6o JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 ** ' When I landed here after my poor horse 
 was drowned, I had lost every scrap of clothing 
 save this. And as the pair were knitted by an 
 old and very dear friend, I thought it would be 
 more honourable to wear the last one as a 
 head-dress in memory of one I shall no more 
 see in this world/ 
 
 *' I felt inclined to laugh at the man's comical 
 appearance, as he solemnly replaced his funny 
 turban, but I also felt inclined to cry at his 
 pathetic words, so I did neither. 
 
 "It was still late summer, and no one men- 
 tioned cold, though many growled at the heat. 
 But this man had been thirty hours without a 
 morsel of food, and he must have been a man 
 of an iron constitution to have gone through all 
 he had, and still to look as fit as he did, naked 
 as he was, for hunger always induces cold. His 
 friends on shore thought of his hungry plight, 
 and asked me if I could carry a little parcel of 
 damper and mutton securely fastened on my 
 head. This I felt quite able to do, and did not 
 feel at all incommoded by the little bundle when 
 I started. But unfortunately I lost it in a whirl- 
 pool which sucked me under for a few moments. 
 
 ** I told the man this, and at the same time 
 said that I had come at the request of his friends 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 6i 
 
 to try to rescue him from his bad plight, as his 
 friends had told me that — like themselves — he 
 could not swim. When I said this, the man 
 looked at me very hard for a minute or two, 
 and then he burst out into a laugh, and cried : 
 
 "*Oh-ho, my clever young friend! You 
 don't seem to have any concealed weapons 
 about you. If I thought you had I would 
 simply break your back across my knee, and 
 chuck your tender body as a delicious morsel 
 to the eels and platypus, of which there are 
 great abundance in these Stygian waters.' 
 
 ** I stared at the fellow in blank amazement, 
 thinking that perhaps his sufferings had driven 
 him mad ! We must have made a strange pic- 
 ture had any one been there to see two naked 
 men sitting on the bare, muddy earth, looking 
 grimly at each other as if they meant mischief 
 instead of good. Then it came into my mind 
 that there was some mystery about this man, 
 and about his friends over yonder, which I had 
 not fathomed yet! And I began to overhaul 
 some secret advice and talismanic words which 
 the leader of the squad on the river bank had 
 impressed upon me that I must repeat if the 
 man I was trying to rescue doubted me in any 
 way. So here was doubt with a vengeance, and 
 
62 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 I must say that I was very much disappointed! 
 But we are always meeting with some sort of 
 disappointment, and I just braced myself to 
 face the issue. 
 
 '' Fortunately I have a very retentive memory, 
 and I had the words on my tongue after a 
 moment's reflection. Looking the man straight 
 in the eyes quite calmly, I said slowly and dis- 
 tinctly : 
 
 '''We few!' 
 
 " A strange sort of amazement came into his 
 face, as he replied in an incredulous tone of voice : 
 
 " ' We happy few! ' 
 
 "Then I felt reassured, and I held out my 
 hand in a hearty, friendly, free manner, and 
 cried : 
 
 " ' We band of brothers! ' 
 
 " In a moment we both jumped to our feet, 
 and if there had been anybody there to see 
 they would have gone into fits at the spectacle 
 of two grown-up, naked, dirty men embracing 
 lovingly like two silly little three-year-old kids! 
 But there was nobody on hand to enjoy the 
 demonstration of affection, saving a gang of 
 mud-bedraggled cockatoos, but even they chat- 
 tered and screamed, evidently greatly amused 
 at the incongruous display. 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 63 
 
 ** It did not take many minutes to explain to 
 my new-found friend the method I had planned 
 to tow him across the river. There was, in fact, 
 nothing for him to do but to keep alongside of 
 me, holding on to my belt as lightly as he 
 could, and impeding my movements as little 
 as possible. It did not take long for two men 
 who were practically fearless, although one was 
 absolutely helpless in deep water, to arrange 
 their start. Fortunately the water was by no 
 means cold — it had been warmed by over- 
 flowing many sun-scorched shingle-beds in its 
 flooded course. And although this process had 
 not improved its drinking quality, it certainly 
 had made it more comfortable for a long swim 
 in its half-tepid waters. 
 
 " We practised our arrangements and mode 
 of progress before we finally cast off from the 
 island. When we thought that we understood 
 our plans thoroughly, I let go the bushes, and 
 we went slowly along to the lower end of the 
 island. Here I took advantage of the slack 
 water to paddle a little nearer to the bank we 
 wished to reach, at the same time splashing all 
 I knew how, to attract the attention of our 
 friends on shore, whose assistance I knew we 
 must have in landing on those formidable 
 
64 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 twenty-feet perpendicular clay banks, if we were 
 ever lucky enough to reach land at all through 
 the swirling eddies and whirlpools and general 
 debris in the muddy, rushing river. 
 
 ''When we got through the slack water, and 
 met the full force of the current, we were swept 
 along at a great rate, and I was much relieved 
 when my companion whispered, ' They see us ! ' 
 for I had feared that we might escape even 
 their eager watch, as we were mixed up with all 
 sorts of wreckage stuff which had come down 
 the flood for miles and miles. 
 
 '' Thus we went drifting down the muddy 
 stream for two mortal hours — so they of the 
 shore timed us — with no sustenance whatever 
 save a sip now and then of the reddish, thickish 
 water about the consistency of the soup sailors 
 call skilligalee. And maybe that skilly was 
 what sustained us in our severe tug and struggle 
 that day; for I have learned since then that 
 there are tribes of people who use certain kinds 
 of earth, not only as medicine, but occasionally 
 as an article of diet. 
 
 " That tug through dSbris, and all sorts of 
 whirlpools and cross-currents, was a strain such 
 as I never went through before or since, and 
 when you consider that I was not only keeping 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 65 
 
 a man afloat, but towing him along to reach the 
 bank before we should become exhausted and 
 go under, you can imagine that I must have 
 been a pretty stout lad, as well as a good 
 swimmer, in those days. 
 
 *' After we had been carried down stream 
 some fifteen miles or so (as I learned after- 
 wards) the high banks ceased, and the land 
 became low and swampy. We both noticed this 
 good change, and my companion whispered 
 some hopeful words, and actually made some 
 fair attempts with his disengaged hand to assist 
 our progress. This change in the river banks 
 made it possible for our friends on shore to ride 
 close to the river, which they did, constantly 
 making signals to us which cheered us up 
 wonderfully, and put fresh courage into our 
 drooping hearts. At last we heard shouts, and 
 after a while we touched bottom. Two fellows 
 on horseback dashed out from the shore, but 
 before they reached us their horses were swim- 
 ming. However, they threw us their tether 
 ropes, and in a minute we were hauled to dry 
 land and safety ! But we were pretty weak men 
 for three or four days thereafter, and did little 
 else than eat and sleep, and, I hope, thank God 
 for our escape from ' the eels and the platypus.' 
 
 F 
 
66 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 CHOICE OF LIFE OR DEATH 
 
 " During those quiet days of recuperation I 
 learned the name and part of the history of the 
 man whom I had been the means of saving 
 either from drowning or starvation. 
 
 ** Lawrence Murphy was an Irishman of good 
 family. But what with horses, much gaiety, 
 law, and politics, he had been brought so low 
 that instead of shooting pheasants on what was 
 once his own land, he had taken to the more 
 lucrative business of trapping birds and catch- 
 ing fish on his neighbours' estates, with the 
 result that he was sent to Australia at the 
 Queen's expense, to try if life under the South- 
 ern Cross would conduce to improve his morals. 
 But, alas, however much or far we change our 
 domicile in the world, it does not follow that 
 we change our idiosyncrasies at the same time 
 — that is another and more difficult process 
 altogether, and quite beyond the reach of judge 
 and jury. So when Lawrence Murphy was 
 dumped on to Australian soil — along with three 
 hundred other convicU — he was just ' Gentleman 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 67 
 
 Lawrence the poacher/ with seven years against 
 his name in the Register Book, and nobody- 
 cared a jot one way or the other. Oh, yes, I 
 forgot! There were a weeping woman and a 
 broken-hearted old gentleman in County Down 
 who cared very much. 
 
 **Of course on board ship there were many 
 opportunities of forming acquaintances, and, as 
 everywhere else, like naturally drifts to like. In 
 this way Murphy formed friendships with the 
 six men who now composed his present squad. 
 Before they scattered from the ship they all 
 swore to a verbal agreement to keep within 
 hail of each other as much as possible, and if 
 possible to be allocated to settlers in the same 
 part of the country. As they were all gentlemen, 
 and by no means inclined to coarse crimes and 
 insubordination, they bore excellent characters 
 on board ship, and when they arrived in Sydney 
 they had no difficulty in finding masters in the 
 same section of the country, even although in 
 some cases a good many miles apart. 
 
 " Lawrence Murphy and two of his friends 
 were lucky enough to be allotted to the same 
 master, and served out their terms and received 
 an honourable discharge, with good marks. 
 This was their opportunity, the parting of the 
 
6S JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 ways, which so many bright spirits miss. After 
 picking up their four friends who still had some 
 years to serve (but escape was comparatively 
 easy in those days of sparse population), these 
 seven men took to the bush, and the six of 
 them swore on the Cross to be faithful and 
 true to their leader, Lawrence Murphy, in life 
 and in death. 
 
 " That is a brief synopsis of the gang I had 
 foregathered with; a gang which had treated 
 me kindly, and to which I had returned service 
 to the best of my ability. The man I had 
 rescued from the island made a strong appeal 
 to induce me to cast in my lot with them. They 
 did not call themselves ' bushrangers,' but that 
 was practically what they were, though they 
 styled themselves by the less dangerous appel- 
 lation of ' drovers.' This business was moving 
 herds of cattle or mobs of horses from one part 
 of the country to another for a stipulated sum 
 per head of those they delivered in good order. 
 And as a rule runholders found it to their ad- 
 vantage to engage Murphy and his men, for if a 
 runholder sent a mob of cattle or horses under 
 charge of his own men — and even if he went 
 along himself — the chances were that many of 
 the best animals were mysteriously lost in some 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 69 
 
 hard bit of bush country, and never heard of 
 again. Whereas if Murphy and his men had 
 charge of a mob they invariably got through 
 the longest journeys with never the loss of a 
 beast! It must have been a very lucrative busi- 
 ness, for the squad were splendidly mounted, 
 most comfortably clothed, and all their appoint- 
 ments were first class. 
 
 *' Lawrence Murphy, and indeed all the party, 
 treated me most kindly. They gave me a com- 
 plete new outfit, which I badly needed, and, in 
 short, made me perfectly at home and promised 
 that if I stayed with them I should share and 
 share alike with the rest. But something saved 
 me at this parting of the ways of life! I don't 
 know what it was, but I know that it was some- 
 thing beyond my wisdom, or understanding, for 
 to me, a lonely youngster, the inducements 
 proffered seemed too good to be refused. When 
 I reflect upon the circumstance now, I think 
 that somehow it must have been my father s 
 prayers. Otherwise it seems unaccountable how 
 a friendless, penniless youth, in the dismal 
 Australian wilderness, helpless and alone, could 
 have resisted such a generous offer, made by 
 men who I instinctively knew were gentlemen, 
 and who would keep their promise when once 
 
70 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 given. When I look back upon that day, with all 
 my acquired knowledge of life, and its hardships, 
 I cannot understand how I had strength to re- 
 fuse friendship, ease, and jollity, and start again 
 upon my trudging, lonely life in that awful end- 
 less bush — save upon the supposition that my 
 father's prayers were heard in heaven, and the 
 answer sent direct to his son in his hour of 
 need! 
 
 *•' When Murphy saw that I was bound to go 
 my * ain gate,' he gave me a nice horse with 
 bridle, saddle, and tether rope complete. But I 
 instinctively knew that it would not be good 
 for an unknown young man to be met well 
 mounted, and well clad, hundreds of miles from 
 civilization, unless I belonged to one of the few 
 stations in that part of the country. When I 
 expressed these views to Murphy, he smiled 
 rather sadly, and said : 
 
 '' ' You are a careful as well as a brave lad, 
 James Melville, and I like you the better for it. 
 And if ever I can be of service to you, in my 
 humble capacity of "drover," remember that 
 Lawrence Murphy Is your friend, as you gener- 
 ously proved yourself to be his at the imminent 
 risk of your life. Never forget our pass- words, 
 and if ever you are in a tight place, and should 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 71 
 
 ask help from me, I will grant your request if it 
 is within reach of my mortal power.' 
 
 '' After I had been with Murphy and his men 
 for a week or so, in telling them of my adven- 
 tures in my tramp up country I of course related 
 with emphasis how badly I had been treated by 
 a man whom I described. And I added that I 
 certainly should have died then and there, had 
 not an angel, in the form of a stoutish lady, 
 given me food and set me on my way. As I 
 told the men how abominably I had been used, 
 and cursed as well, by this brutal fellow, the 
 leader, addressing his men, said : 
 
 " ' Now, this must be put a stop to! '' Bloody 
 Jack" must be taught better manners. We 
 gave him one lesson which I thought would 
 be enough, but it seems that one admonition, 
 however severe, is not sufficient for some men, 
 so we will give this man the "choice." We 
 have cured several by this method, as you all 
 know. Our last case was Bendigo Bill, over 
 Queensland way. Of course some may think 
 he *' chose" the wrong way for himself, but after 
 all it was no doubt the right way for such a 
 callous brute who was guilty of so many atro- 
 cious crimes — the last being the flogging of his 
 poor wife to death, in which we caught him 
 
72 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 red-handed! There is no use keeping such 
 monsters in this world if the Lord will take 
 them, and deal with them elsewhere. But if by 
 this trial of "choice" God so orders that they 
 remain on earth a little longer, no doubt He 
 knows better than we with our erring judgement, 
 and so directs the ''choice." You all learned these 
 things from the " Banshee Folk" in the dear old 
 land! But this young man, who has suffered at 
 the hands of " Bloody Jack," must see this 
 ordeal properly carried out. 
 
 " ' Three of you ride over, and bring this 
 
 man into camp, but be careful, for he always 
 
 carries arms. Our young friend will go with you 
 
 so that there may be no possibility of mistake, 
 
 for it is some two years since we last saw him : 
 
 that was when we flogged him for beating his 
 
 wife. It was a severe lesson, but his neighbours 
 
 say it cured him of that trick. Now, by God's 
 
 grace, we must teach the rascal to behave more 
 
 like a human being than a wild beast to " the 
 
 poor, and him that hath no helper," as good old 
 
 Father Flannagan used to impress upon our 
 
 hearts, and backs, with his stout thorn stick, 
 
 when he caught us boys playing tricks upon 
 
 poor Danny Macvane, the village idiot.' 
 
 "- We set off at once, and as the ' lesson ' is the 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 73 
 
 important part, I will skip over the little episode 
 of securing this man — Jack Kean, as I learned 
 his proper name was — and bringing him into 
 camp tied securely on his own horse which was 
 led by one of us turn and turn about. The 
 fellow hardly said a word after he was secured, 
 although he cursed and fought viciously during 
 the process of securing him. But thereafter he 
 maintained a dour silence until our arrival in 
 camp. 
 
 "We travelled rather slowly, as a matter of 
 course, but we made up for it by only camping 
 once for half an hour to boil a billy of tea, and 
 have a hurried snack of damper therewith. 
 When night came on we had reached the open 
 bush country, and with fine clear moonlight we 
 managed to get on well enough, and reached 
 camp shortly after daylight. We were in the 
 nick of time to find our people at breakfast, to 
 which we did bush justice, even the gloomy 
 prisoner readily devouring everything that was 
 set before him. 
 
 ** After breakfast and a short rest, Lawrence 
 Murphy called us together to the trial of ' Bloody 
 Jack,' as the man was usually called on ac- 
 count of his atrocious language. When some 
 of Murphy's band had given several instances 
 
74 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 of Kean's misdeeds, I was called upon to 
 give my evidence. I made my story as mild as 
 possible, for by the demeanour of Murphy and 
 the others I began to realize that the ending of 
 this trial was not going to be a joke and a 
 picnic, but, on the contrary, deadly tragedy and 
 trouble. But although it was a stern, yet I 
 must say it was a fair, trial. Any little favourable 
 point in the accused man's favour was made the 
 most of; still the evidence was so overwhelm- 
 ingly against him that everybody knew what 
 the verdict would be long before the jury of 
 four men — who had taken no part in the trial 
 save listening to the evidence — pronounced the 
 fatal word 'guilty.' That trial of Jack Kean 
 was certainly a strange affair, but when I reflect 
 upon it now, I must say that I never saw a case 
 conducted in a fairer or less biased spirit. 
 
 ''When the man was pronounced guilty. 
 Murphy asked him if he had anything to say 
 in his own defence. But the fellow only scowled 
 upon the whole company, and administered a 
 cruel kick to his poor mongrel dog, which had 
 followed him faithfully, and licked his hands 
 lovingly many times during that eventful day, 
 as though the creature knew that his master 
 was in some sore trouble. 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 75 
 
 " After a few minutes' pause, as if to give the 
 prisoner time to arrange his defence — but he 
 made no answer whatever — Murphy stood up, 
 and said: 
 
 ***Jack Kean! You have again been found 
 guilty by a jury of your own countrymen. The 
 last time you were convicted by this court your 
 punishment was made as light as consistent 
 with justice, on the urgent and piteous petition 
 of your wife. To-day there is no one here to 
 intervene between you and justice; so your 
 only hope is in the leniency of this court, and 
 the mercy of God! But you have provoked God 
 so often and so outrageously, that one feels 
 somewhat diffident about recommending you 
 to His clemency. 
 
 " ' The decision of the court is this. On a 
 plate two small sandwiches exactly alike in 
 appearance will be presented to you. One will 
 be perfectly wholesome, one will contain a 
 portion of strychnine sufficient to cause death 
 within an hour. You must choose and eat one 
 of these sandwiches while two men hold pistols 
 to your head to shoot you dead if you try to 
 play false. If this ordeal is too hard for you, 
 then you will be taken to the stringy-bark yon- 
 der, and there hanged by the neck until you 
 
76 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 are dead. And may God have mercy on your 
 soul!* 
 
 '* This bit of legal benediction seemed to 
 relieve the tension on all our minds, and we 
 stood up and heaved a sort of sigh of relief, as 
 though we had been suddenly eased from bodily 
 pain. Murphy quietly waited awhile, no doubt 
 to give Kean time to make his decision, and 
 then he said, ' Have you made your choice ? ' 
 
 ** 'Yes! the sandwich,' answered the man, in 
 such a cheerful voice that it at once flashed 
 through my mind that he thought Murphy and 
 his men were only playing a game to frighten 
 him. 
 
 ** Quite calmly and deliberately Murphy 
 picked up a tin plate, such as all bushmen use, 
 and took from his coat pocket two tiny, nice- 
 looking sandwiches, just large enough for each 
 one to make a comfortable mouthful. Carefully 
 removing the morsels from their wrappings of 
 leaves he laid them side by side on the plate, 
 and held the dish out to Kean with an air as if he 
 were helping a guest at an ordinary dinner table, 
 while two men at that instant stepped to each 
 side of the man, with revolvers in their hands. 
 
 ** Without the slightest hesitation Kean picked 
 up one of the nice bits of bread and meat, 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION ^^ 
 
 chewed it for a few seconds, and swallowed it 
 with great deliberation, then washed it down 
 with a long swill of tea. When this performance 
 was accomplished to Murphy's satisfaction, he 
 laid the remaining sandwich before Kean's poor 
 hungry cur. In a moment the brute gobbled it 
 up, and with gleaming eyes looked for more of 
 such delicious morsels. 
 
 " The dog was chained to a stump a few 
 yards from where his master was held by a 
 tether rope between two of our men, while the 
 rest of us sat around on stumps and logs, silent 
 as regarded words, but with wildly beating 
 hearts, and eyes that watched dog and man 
 with a dreadful intentness. 
 
 '* Bloody Jack himself seemed to be the least 
 interested man among us, and after awhile he 
 laughed, saying something about 'the joke being 
 played out.' But he did not laugh any more 
 while he was in our company. He had hardly 
 said the words, when his dog gave a whining 
 bark, or rather cry, and threw himself flat on 
 his side with quivering stiff limbs, and wildly 
 glaring, but unobservant, glassy eyes. 
 
 '* Bushmen in those days knew well the mani- 
 festations of strychnine poisoning, as all settlers 
 used the drug to destroy the hordes of dingos, 
 
7^ JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 which caused heaps of trouble among sheep 
 and young calves, when the country was first 
 settled. 
 
 '* Kean struggled to his feet in spite of the 
 men who held him by his bound arms — then he 
 made a step or two towards his dying dog, and, 
 uttering a wild cry, dropped on his knees, and 
 fell into a paroxysm of passionate speech that 
 seemed a commingling of blasphemy and prayer, 
 and which at the moment I thought was the 
 raving of a man who had gone mad through 
 strain and stress of mind, although he had 
 carried himself nonchalantly enough that morn- 
 ing to all outward appearance. 
 
 '' The poor dog was soon out of his misery, 
 and after Kean had convinced himself that his 
 only friend was beyond all earthly help, he 
 turned to Murphy and asked if he might now 
 depart, adding very humbly, ' as my poor dog 
 has drawn the losing number.' 
 
 *' ' Yes,' said Murphy, ' you may now go, 
 Jack Kean! But remember that the next time 
 you are brought before me, if you have not 
 mended your ways, you will not have a choice: 
 there will only be one sandwich presented to 
 you on the plate.' 
 
 **The man said not a word. When he was 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 79 
 
 released he very quietly saddled his horse, coiled 
 up his tether rope on the beast's neck — colonial 
 fashion — and packed his dead cur behind the 
 saddle; then he mounted, and to the astonish- 
 ment of us all respectfully doffed his battered 
 old wide-a-wake to Murphy, and without a word 
 rode silently into the forest. 
 
 " I am glad to be able to report, before I quit 
 this tragic incident, that from that time forth 
 Jack Kean, alias Bloody Jack, became a com- 
 pletely changed man, not only in his home life, 
 but also in his general behaviour abroad. When 
 a poor weary swagger happened along he was 
 at the least given a feed in place of a curse and 
 a kick, as in the former days. And when the 
 parson came that way on a missionary tour, 
 Kean gradually became one of his most staunch 
 supporters, instead of being a trouble and 
 nuisance to every decent person in the district. 
 
 ''After I settled on Blue Ridge Station I 
 frequently spent a night at Kean's as I passed 
 down with a load of wool, or back with a load 
 of station stores. At such times he and the wife 
 (who I think knew all about the * choice ' ordeal) 
 always treated me in the kindest way. And 
 when at last — during the great drought — I told 
 him that Lawrence Murphy and all his gang 
 
8o JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 had gone to California, he looked at me quite 
 steadily, and said with a sad sort of note in his 
 voice: 
 
 '' ' Ah well, Mr. Melville. You and I and the 
 Missus here know that the country lost seven 
 good men when Lawrence Murphy and his 
 comrades said good-bye to Australia! ' 
 
 " Strange to say, Larry Murphy and his men 
 were the only bushrangers I ever had much to 
 do with in my long colonial experience. And I 
 must say that I did not find them by any means 
 such a wicked lot as bushrangers are generally 
 made out to be. After all is said and done, 
 when one looks at the matter dispassionately, 
 one cannot blame bushrangers very severely 
 for doing withotU law, and with much risk and 
 discomfort to themselves, what the Radicals are 
 always trying to do under p7^otection of law, and 
 at no risk or discomfort to themselves. 
 
 '' During the few weeks I fraternized with the 
 Murphy gang I had picked up much informa- 
 tion about the country in general. And among 
 the rest was an account of a large station some 
 hundred miles further west. This fired my 
 ambition, and I determined to strike westward 
 until I found what Larry Murphy described as 
 the largest station in New South Wales. 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 8i 
 
 '* Murphy and the others would have loaded 
 me with grub enough to last me a year, if I 
 could have carried it all, but I had to content 
 myself with a handy swag of the lightest kinds 
 of tack, enough I thought to carry me for a 
 fortnight, and in that time I hoped to reach the 
 station Murphy had told me about. 
 
 **' You may hardly believe me, but it is true 
 all the same, that when it came to the part- 
 ing with Larry and the others, it was quite a 
 touching incident. And I frequently found my- 
 self pondering whether it were wise to refuse 
 Murphy's generous offer of a free partnership 
 in his company. But here again I must conclude 
 that my dear father's prayers saved me from a 
 false step. For it would have been a false step 
 for me, although it is hard to say that it was a 
 false step for a lot of high-spirited Irishmen 
 who had been branded as felons for the boyish 
 freaks of catching a trout, snaring a pheasant, 
 or robbing an orchard at odd times. Besides, 
 you must remember that it is very hard for a 
 Celt to obey Sassenach laws, just as it is im- 
 possible for a South Sea Islander to understand 
 the white man's code of justice. If poor Fuzzy- 
 Wuzzy's father, mother, friend, or whatnot is 
 done to death by a white man, he does not 
 
 G 
 
82 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 weary his life out hunting for the exact criminal, 
 but kills the first man of the offending race 
 whom he happens to meet, and thereby avenges 
 the dead, and eases his own soul! We are too 
 apt to call this prompt expiation 'savagery.' 
 But to Fuzzy-Wuzzy's conscience there is no 
 savagery about it! it is a gallant deed of 
 justice, and the whole community applaud his 
 courage and love. No doubt it greatly de- 
 pends upon how one is brought up. Murphy 
 used to maintain that the only difference be- 
 tween his countrymen and mine was the fact 
 that mine have a preponderance of caution ! 
 Quien sabe? 
 
 " The last night I spent with Murphy and 
 his men, we had a lively time of talk and song 
 and much hilarity. Like most Irishmen, they 
 could all sing a good song, and here is one that 
 Lawrence Murphy sang. There isn't much in 
 it, but it touched me deeply that night, and I 
 got him to sing it over and over until I had the 
 words and the sweet old Irish air securely fixed 
 in my memory. I often sing it to myself yet on 
 a lonely bush journey. And I would rather hear 
 Murphy troll it forth with his rich Irish brogue, 
 and his comrades give the chorus with full 
 musical swing, than I would listen to the sweet- 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION S^^ 
 
 est madrigal that ever prima-donna bewitched 
 men with. 
 
 LAWRENCE MURPHY'S SONG 
 
 Let us sing to the land of the shamrock, 
 
 To Erin, the land of the green: 
 To the land of the throstle and laverock, 
 
 The fairest men ever have seen ! 
 
 O it 's here 's to the shamrock and heather, 
 And it 's here 's to the daisies and whins; 
 
 And it 's here 's to the darlint ould Father! 
 Who blest us, and prayed for our sins. 
 
 Ah God! the soft rain of Killarney, 
 
 And the mist with the sun shining through; 
 Oh the reel, and the kiss, and the blarney, 
 And the hearts that were honest and true! 
 O it 's here 's to the shamrock and heather. 
 And it 's here 's to the daisies and whins; 
 And it 's here 's to the darlint ould Father! 
 Who blest us, and prayed for our sins. 
 
 Oh the pheasant and trout from his Lordship, 
 
 Who be-dad ! never missed them at all ! 
 Ah the cracking shillelaghs like swordship, 
 And the spalpeens we sent to a fall ! 
 
 O it 's here 's to the shamrock and heather, 
 And it 's here 's to the daisies and whins 
 And it's here 's to the darlint ould Father! 
 Who blest us, and prayed for our sins. 
 
84 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 And it 's oh for the lads and the lasses 
 
 We left o'er the weary saut sea; 
 May the wind bear a kiss as it passes 
 
 To the sweet lips we'll never more pree! 
 
 O it 's here 's to the shamrock and heather, 
 And it's here's to the daisies and whins; 
 
 And it 's here 's to the darlint ould Father ! 
 Who blest us, and prayed for our sins. 
 
 O Erin, where skies are the bluest, 
 
 Dear land where our forefathers sleep, 
 
 Where women and men are the truest — 
 
 The land that we dream of and weep ! 
 
 And it 's here 's to the shamrock and heather, 
 And it 's here 's to the daisies and whins; 
 
 And it 's here 's to the darlint ould Father ! 
 Who blest us, and prayed for our sins. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 " WE few! WE HAPPY FEw! WE BAND OF 
 
 brothers!" 
 
 ** I SHALL pass over my next tramp without 
 entering into details. Suffice it to say that the 
 little fowling-piece which Murphy gave me at 
 parting, with a supply of powder, shot, and caps 
 — breech-loaders were not used in those days 
 — saved me from starvation. My stock of pro- 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 85 
 
 visions petered out long before I reached the 
 station I was in search of, and I often longed for 
 the horse which Murphy wished me to take. He 
 knew all about the bush, and feared, no doubt, 
 that I should become exhausted and perish un- 
 less I had a horse to carry me. I have often 
 thought since then that Larry Murphy must 
 have had a kind soft heart in spite of his radical 
 and socialistic mode of life. 
 
 ** After a weary tramp of about a month, one 
 evening towards sunset I walked slowly and 
 wearily up to the door of this very house, which 
 looked then much as it does now, only there are 
 more trees and cultivation about the place than 
 there were in those days. 
 
 '' When I made a noise on the veranda, a 
 young man came out and looked at me. He 
 was little older than myself, but not much, and 
 he was in those days ' Timothy Maxwell, Es- 
 quire, J. P., owner of Blue Ridge Station.' Now 
 he is plain Maxwell, whom you know as over- 
 seer of the Farm. This young gentleman 
 looked me all over sharply, and said: 
 
 '''Well, young man! I suppose you are a 
 specimen of the genus sun-downer. But we 
 see so few of that species out our way that 
 perhaps I am mistaken.' 
 
86 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 ** * No, sir,' I retorted, ' I am not a sun- 
 downer, I am a man, and I am looking for 
 work! ' 
 
 '' At this he smiled, and examined me more 
 carefully, saying half to himself and half to me: 
 
 *''Yes! that's what they all say, but it is 
 astonishing how few find it, although there is 
 plenty of that commodity lying about all over 
 the country. The fact is that ninety-nine out 
 of every hundred of the travelling fraternity are 
 like the brave nigger who was so little afraid of 
 work that he protested he could * lie down and 
 go to sleep beside um!' But I'll tell you what 
 I will do, as you look to be a new chum and 
 honest — but of course I may be mistaken — you 
 can live at the men's quarters over yonder for a 
 couple of days just to recover from this look- 
 ing business, in which you tell me that you have 
 been engaged lately! In the meantime I will 
 show you a new paddock fence which we are 
 putting up. I am short of men on that job, and 
 if you like to tackle the work, and i( you do it 
 properly, I will allow you eight shillings a day. 
 So if you are a ' man,' as you have impressed 
 upon me, you ought to be supremely happy, for 
 you will have realized the Radical's dream of 
 blessedness : 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 87 
 
 Eight hours' work, 
 Eight hours' play, 
 Eight hours' sleep, 
 Eight bob a day! 
 
 " Then the young gentleman took out his 
 note-book, scribbled something, tore out the 
 leaf, and, handing it to me, told me to give it 
 to the cook at the men's quarters. Thanking 
 him quietly, I betook myself to the place in- 
 dicated. On the way I looked at the paper, and 
 found, ' Give the bearer a bed, and full rations 
 until further orders. T. M.' 
 
 ** That was my dedu^ on this station, the 
 place which became my first and last perman- 
 ent domicile in Australia. I soon learned that 
 * T. M.' stood for * Timothy Maxwell,' owner 
 and manager of ' Blue Ridge.' He was a very 
 young man to have control of such a huge sta- 
 tion. But even in those early days Maxwell 
 possessed a great deal of good judgement, and 
 a large portion of that invaluable commodity, 
 common sense. 
 
 " There were forty thousand sheep, and four or 
 five thousand head of cattle, on the Run even in 
 its rough state in those days. And there were 
 from seventy to eighty men constantly employed 
 about the place. Maxwell s father, who was in 
 
SS JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 business in Sydney, and was reported to be very 
 wealthy — which I have no doubt he was at that 
 time — had established his son on Blue Ridge. 
 At the time I refer to, it was a splendid pro- 
 perty and a most profitable investment, al- 
 though still in its rough, wild state, with few 
 improvements, and, like all the rest of the 
 country, liable to suffer from drought. 
 
 " The greatest expense and drawback to the 
 station at that time was its great distance from 
 railway, or dependable water carriage. So every- 
 thing from or to the station had to be carried 
 by the slow old-fashioned bullock-dray, and, as 
 you may imagine, a weary, hard, dangerous 
 business it was. As Maxwell found out by de- 
 grees that I was trustworthy, diligent, and a 
 careful, hard worker — as he was pleased to term 
 it — and with ambition far beyond the * Radical's 
 dream of blessedness,' he made me head of this 
 arduous department. Of course it was a good 
 position, and high pay for a lad of my age, but 
 many a time when in some hard fix, with half- 
 starved bullocks, half-a-dozen drays stuck in 
 swampy ground, and tired men swearing like 
 troopers, I have sincerely wished that Maxwell 
 had given me a shepherd's billet, where I would 
 have had aquietlife, with the peaceful companion- 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 89 
 
 ship of my dog and my flock, and sweet rests 
 under the golden wattle, calmly studying my 
 precious * chap-books ' — little treasures which I 
 had managed to save through all my adventures, 
 and which I have managed to keep to this day! 
 But once, after my return from a particularly 
 hard trip, when I mentioned to Maxwell my 
 predilection for the shepherd vocation, he only 
 laughed, saying that my talents would be wasted 
 at shepherding, and that I would never get on 
 unless I tried to climb up, no matter how dis- 
 agreeable the job might be! That is the stock 
 argument of the world, but Maxwell is not 
 nearly so stiff on the subject as he used to be. 
 However, he got me to stick to my job, and we 
 often laugh over it even yet. 
 
 '* Of course it showed great confidence on 
 Maxwell's part, for I had only been one year in 
 his employ when he put me in charge of this 
 important department. I had to use my own 
 judgement in every detail of the business, and 
 considering that thousands of pounds' worth of 
 property would be under my charge year in and 
 year out, besides hundreds of pounds in silver, 
 which I had to bring up at shearing time — it cer- 
 tainly showed that my employer had great con- 
 fidence in a young man who had come to him 
 
90 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 only a short time before in the form of a tramp. 
 But Tim Maxwell is, and generally has been, a 
 shrewd man. I have only known him to make 
 one huge error, and it was the mistake of his 
 life as far as wealth is concerned. But, after all, 
 wealth does not count very much one way or the 
 other on the balance sheet of happiness or un- 
 happiness in this world. And according to 
 Christ it rather militates against our prospects 
 in the next. But that does not seem to make it 
 the less sought after. So we must just call that 
 huge error the mistake of Tim's life as far as 
 wealth is concerned, and leave it at that. 
 
 " I think I have mentioned that I have had 
 very little trouble from the bushranger fraternity. 
 But we knew from reports that there were gangs 
 in the country, and we always had plenty of fire- 
 arms at the Home Stations in case we should be 
 honoured by a visit from some of these undesir- 
 able visitors. I had also taken the precaution 
 to provide my bullock-drivers with pistols, and 
 stout knives, in case of need. A few months 
 after I took up the business of draying, a gang 
 had made a raid on a neighbour's drays return- 
 ing from Sydney with a load of goods, and not 
 only helped themselves to all they required in 
 the saddlery, clothing, and provision line, but 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 91 
 
 these light-fingered radical gentlemen had se- 
 cured two hundred pounds in cash which was 
 being brought up for station use. The bullock- 
 drivers had cunningly put the little canvas bags 
 of silver coin into some sacks of oats which 
 they were taking along to give their stock a 
 hasty feed, instead of making long delays for the 
 poor beasts to pick up a meal from the scanty 
 herbage. 
 
 '' When the bushrangers had overhauled the 
 goods, and had taken toll of all they thought 
 worth taking, they sat down to have a comfort- 
 able feed of damper, cold mutton, and tea, at 
 the same time giving the horses a feed from 
 one of the sacks of oats. In opening the sacks, 
 of course, they discovered, like Joseph's brethren, 
 the money *in the sack's mouth,' but tt7ilike the 
 terrified sons of Jacob, they were highly de- 
 lighted, and promptly annexed the shekels. I 
 often wondered who were the men who made 
 this lucky find. But remembering my late friends 
 of the bush, I forbore to press inquiries too 
 closely. 
 
 '' A few months after I had been installed as 
 chief of the draying department, I returned a 
 few days sooner than I was expected from a trip 
 to the railway station. Having seen my men 
 
92 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 and bullocks past all the bad parts of the way, 
 I had left my head driver in charge, and had 
 ridden ahead of the slow-moving drays. When 
 I approached this house — which was the Home- 
 stead in those days — I was a bit startled at the 
 silence prevaihng about the place, and by seeing 
 a number of saddled horses in the stockyard, 
 which I saw at a glance were not ours. 
 
 " I rode up to the house at a canter, swung 
 off my horse, and, hooking the bridle to the rail, 
 went into this very room, which was then used 
 as office and library — Maxwell was always a 
 great reader, and his father used to send him 
 many consignments of books. There was a large 
 safe in one corner, where Maxwell was accus- 
 tomed to keep a good deal of money when 
 shearing and other accounts were about due. 
 
 " At the door of this room stood the very 
 man — with a six-shooter in his hand — who gave 
 me the pass-words when I started to rescue 
 Lawrence Murphy! The poor chap knew me 
 at once, and looked at me with a very shame- 
 faced expression, and, as I live, blushed up to 
 the roots of his hair, like a girl! I made a move- 
 ment to pass him, but he shook his head, and 
 barred me with his outstretched hand — not the 
 hand with the pistol — and then King Henry's 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 93 
 
 words, which I had not repeated for years, 
 leapt to my tongue! 
 
 " * We few,' and the man instantly responded, 
 * We happy few,' and dropped his hand, and I 
 whispered, as I passed into the room, ' We band 
 of brothers ! ' 
 
 " I found a traofic scene when I entered the 
 room. Lawrence Murphy was standing on one 
 side of the safe, and Maxwell on the other side. 
 Murphy had a fierce gleam in his eyes, and he 
 was saying: 
 
 " ' Open the safe, Mr. Maxwell ! or — ' and he 
 levelled a cocked pistol at Maxwell's face. 
 
 '' Two quick steps took me to Larry's side, 
 and I quickly pushed his pistol-hand up, and at 
 that instant the weapon went off, and yonder is 
 the splintered wood where the bullet is sticking 
 to this day. 
 
 " Maxwell is a brave man, as I have proved 
 many a time, but he turned a bit whitish as he 
 heard the bullet strike and saw the wood 
 splinter. It was certainly a close shave, if 
 Murphy really meant to fire when he levelled 
 the pistol at Maxwell ! But I don't think he did. 
 And he told me afterwards that he had no in- 
 tention of shooting anybody; he only wished to 
 frighten Maxwell or his book-keeper into open- 
 
94 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 ing the safe, as they were the only ones who 
 understood the combination which would open 
 the safe. 
 
 "As I held Murphy's arm, and looked into 
 his eyes, I saw that he did not recognize me, 
 and he made a motion to wrench his arm free 
 from my grip. Then I repeated his own pass- 
 words, whispering in his ear, so that others 
 might not hear, 'We few!' and he looked at 
 me in a dazed sort of way, and made answer in 
 an incredulous, low tone of voice, 
 
 '*'We happy few!' And instantly I rapped 
 out, looking straight in his eyes, ' We band of 
 brothers!' Then Murphy stood quite motion- 
 less, and silent, while I whispered: 
 
 '''Remember your promise. Grant it now! 
 Spare this station! Get your men together out- 
 side, while I arrange matters with Maxwell.' 
 
 " Larry thrust his pistol into the case at his 
 side, and stalked out of the room, and I pulled 
 Maxwell into a corner, and hurriedly said that 
 I could get rid of the bushrangers if he allowed 
 me a free hand and waited for the explanation 
 afterwards. 
 
 " Long before this, Maxwell and I had learned 
 that hard but important lesson, namely, to trust 
 each other ; so he only nodded, and I went out 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 95 
 
 after Larry and his comrades. I found them all 
 at the stockyard, coolly giving their horses a 
 fine free feed from the bins of oats in our stable. 
 
 *' I now spoke quite freely to the whole gang, 
 for they had all remembered and recognized me 
 by this time. They crowded round Murphy and 
 me, while he gave me a brief account of their 
 wanderings since we parted, after I had refused 
 their generous offer of a full partnership. They 
 all seemed somewhat depressed, and in a dis- 
 jointed sort of way they told me of a bad tussle 
 they had had up Queensland way, and they were 
 afraid that some of the hands on the station got 
 htirt through foolishly interfering in what would 
 only have been the asking and giving a little 
 assistance to poor hungry coves, who never 
 wished to do harm to any man, woman, or 
 child, etc. 
 
 '* After this revelation there was an embar- 
 rassed silence for a few minutes. Murphy was 
 the first to take up the thread of discourse, and 
 I was glad to note in a more cheerful vein. 
 Said he: 
 
 " * We have unanimously decided to get out 
 of the country. We cannot go back to the Old 
 Land, that would only be out of the frying-pan 
 into the fire. Therefore we intend to find our 
 
96 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 way to California, turn over a new leaf, and . 
 make an honest living at gold-digging. We 
 planned this some time ago, but to carry out 
 this plan we required about two hundred pounds 
 to pay for passages from Newcastle on one of 
 the many old barques, brigs, and schooners 
 carrying coals, and all sorts and conditions of 
 men to the land of El Dorado. This money 
 we hoped to raise from Maxwell, as we knew 
 that he got a lot of coin up lately for the pur- 
 pose of settling with his shearers, etc' 
 
 ''When this plain statement of the case was 
 completed, they all sat along the stockyard rail 
 quiet and silent, as if somehow it had relieved 
 their souls to make a clean breast of it. After 
 a bit one man rubbed his chest, and said he was 
 awfully hungry. And immediately each one 
 discovered that he also was in the same con- 
 dition. You cannot do much good with hungry 
 men, and I, too, was quite peckish, having eaten 
 nothing since an early breakfast, and it was 
 now 3 p.m. So I concluded to soothe my 
 friends, and make my plans afterwards. I at 
 once invited them over to the men's quarters, 
 and asked the cook to give us a good feed of 
 whatever was handy. We soon had big platefuls 
 of mutton chops, plenty of fine damper, and 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 97 
 
 pannikins of hot tea before us, supplemented 
 by splendid pancakes, which the cook turned 
 out as we required them — and we required them 
 pretty often that day. 
 
 " When we had finished all the delicacies 
 which the good old cook could provide, I went 
 into the store and bought seven half-pound 
 packets of tobacco — one for each man. The 
 poor fellows seemed to have run very short of 
 supplies of all sorts, even of necessities, as well 
 as luxuries. 
 
 " When we were again settled under a big red 
 gum near the stockyard, in a comfortable frame 
 of mind as far as the inner man was concerned, 
 one of the men — Pat Montague by name — a 
 clever, pleasant fellow, who Murphy told me 
 when I first foregathered with the gang was a 
 nobleman's son who had been transported for 
 the crime of killing deer on a political oppo- 
 nent's land, cleared his throat, and then quietly 
 putting his pipe into his waistcoat pocket, de- 
 livered himself as follows : 
 
 *' ' Jim Melville, you have changed the 
 programme of this day's proceedings entirely. 
 And I think it is right and proper that we 
 should tell you the reason we scallawags are 
 here at all, disturbing the rural placidity of 
 
 H 
 
98 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 your sylvan abode. No doubt you have sur- 
 mised — as our pass-words indicate — that we are 
 a band of close friends — and, moreover, you 
 may have jaloused from the aforesaid pass- 
 words, and other peculiarities in our make-up, 
 that we have not always been members of the 
 ruffian class. Therefore, knowing these things 
 you will readily understand that memories of 
 the past have set our minds to mature plans for 
 improving our condition, and to convince all 
 those who have loved us and mourned over our 
 reckless lives that we are still sons of gentle- 
 men, badly brought up, no doubt — badly used 
 after we were brought up — but that we are not 
 wastrels, and a parcel of useless ne'er-do- 
 weels ! 
 
 " ' But to carry out our plans we must make 
 a fresh start in a new land. Australia is a fine 
 country, but it is too limited for us! and we 
 have decided to strike for California, and retrieve 
 our fortunes in that land of gold and many 
 opportunities. But to begin this retrieving 
 process we require to raise at least two hundred 
 pounds. And I put it to you — as I once put a 
 puzzling question to the Prime Minister in the 
 House, when I was Member for dear Old 
 Tipperary — how is that to be done?' 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 99 
 
 " While this young man (he was still under 
 thirty-five) rattled on in what might have been 
 taken for light, jesting banter, but which I knew 
 was talk that came from the heart, I felt a great 
 sympathy for him, and his companions. They 
 were pretty bad sinners, no doubt, yet I felt 
 that they had been a good deal sinned against; 
 and now they were once more at the parting 
 of the ways, where we all are once or twice 
 in the journey of life. And there came into 
 my heart, like the sound of my father's voice, 
 the words that he made us children repeat 
 every night of our lives : 
 
 " ' Whatsoever ye would that men should do 
 to you, do ye even so to them.' 
 
 ''Then I made answer to Pat Montague and 
 Larry Murphy. ' Let you two come with me 
 to the house, and I will tell Maxwell your story 
 — as far as I know it — and if he will trust 
 you with a hundred pounds, I will trust you 
 with an equal amount, which is every single 
 penny I have saved in all these years of hard 
 work. And if you play me false on this Cali- 
 fornia game, I will not only lose my fortune, 
 but be laughed at as a poor fool of a green- 
 horn, who was diddled by the soft blarney of 
 roguish Irishmen!' 
 
loo JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 *' At this, both men, with that quick, impulsive 
 manner which Irishmen have, and which makes 
 them so charming in spite of their many 
 national faults, poor fellows, seized my hands, 
 and implored Saint Peter — with such a terrible 
 oath as made my soul shudder — to cast them 
 into outer darkness if they failed to keep their 
 pledged words to me. 
 
 '' When I laid the case before Maxwell, he 
 first looked incredulous, and then he looked 
 severely and a bit suspiciously at me, as if this 
 strange proposal were confirmation of some 
 underhand connection of mine with the bush- 
 rangers. But having all the tremendous power 
 of simple rectitude on my side, I coolly repeated 
 my proposal so earnestly that after a few 
 minutes he opened the safe without another 
 word, and took therefrom my nice little canvas 
 bag containing my fortune, of which I was very 
 proud (as parents always are of their ^rs^) 
 and then he brought out another containing 
 the same amount, and laid them both on the 
 table. 
 
 ** My two friends quietly asked for pen and 
 paper, and while Montague counted the money 
 in my bag, Murphy wrote in a fine large, flow- 
 ing hand, the following promissory note : 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION lor 
 
 ** ' Blue Ridge Station, N. S. Wales, 
 October 22nd, 18— 
 Received from Timothy Maxwell, Esq., one 
 hundred pounds stg., which I promise to repay 
 with current interest, within four years from 
 date hereof. 
 
 Lawrence Murphy.' 
 
 ** This he handed to Maxwell, with many 
 thanks for the loan of the money, and express- 
 ing the hope of repaying before the term 
 expired. 
 
 '' Then Murphy removed his bag of gold 
 which his friend pronounced to be correct, and 
 proceeded to count the other bag while Mont- 
 ague wrote a receipt for me. And thus ended 
 that queer business, which Maxwell called a 
 very shady transaction for him, a J. P., to be en- 
 gaged in. 
 
 " The two men picked up the bags of coin, 
 and quietly thanking Maxwell and me, as if we 
 had merely done some trifling courtesy — such 
 as is usual between gentlemen — they joined 
 their comrades, and the gang at once mounted 
 and rode off. 
 
 *' It has always been a great satisfaction to 
 me that I was the humble means of setting 
 
I02 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 Lawrence Murphy and his friends on the right 
 track, which they had lost as so many do in the 
 confusing cross tracks of life. You may say 
 that it did not amount to much after all, and I 
 freely admit that it did not. But you must note 
 that the widow's two mites did not amount to 
 much, but somehow they became such a vast 
 treasure that men have not ceased to count 
 them after a lapse of two thousand years. So, 
 as Paul advises, ' as we have therefore oppor- 
 tunity, let us do good unto all men.' 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE GREAT DROUGHT 
 
 *' I MUST now tell you something of the great 
 drought. I can only tell you a little of it, for no 
 man could tell the whole story of those three 
 years of misery, and keep his reason. 
 
 " We had had a very good winter, and though 
 the following summer and autumn were un- 
 usually hot and dry, yet the heavy rains of the 
 previous winter had so saturated the earth that 
 vegetation of the stronger sort stood out 
 remarkably well, and the surface springs did 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 103 
 
 not yet suffer at all. So we went along in our 
 usual way, but every man on the Station kept 
 his weather eye open for clouds and winds that 
 smelt of rain. 
 
 "The next winter passed, and we entered 
 upon our second summer of drought \ for by 
 this time we had given up all pretending, and 
 made plans for moving mobs of sheep to the 
 salt bush swamps, and driving cattle into the 
 heavy timber country where they could at least 
 get a mouthful of leaves, good or bad, but 
 at any rate something to keep them alive. 
 
 " Maxwell was married by this time. His 
 wife was the daughter of a parson who w^as 
 settled at a bush township about a hundred 
 and fifty miles nearer Sydney than Blue Ridge. 
 
 '' Mrs. Maxwell was, and is still, a very religi- 
 ous woman, and soon after Tim brought her to 
 Blue Ridge she instituted the plan of gathering 
 as many people as were handy about the Home- 
 stead on Sunday, and she got Maxwell to read 
 the prayers for the day. Then she managed to 
 get a little harmonium from Sydney, and by 
 degrees induced everybody to join in singing 
 the hymns. And it was truly wonderful how 
 eagerly we all began to look forward to these 
 little Sunday services. 
 
I04 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 " At the end of our second year's drought 
 Maxwell's father-in-law, the Rev. Alfred Weston, 
 came up to visit his daughter and Maxwell. 
 He stayed at Blue Ridge for some weeks, and 
 regularly read prayers at night, and always held 
 proper Church services on Sunday. Never once 
 in all the weeks he was on the Station did good 
 parson Weston neglect to pray for rain! And 
 he always added these words, ' Or send water, 
 O Lord, in any form which Thou seest fit, to 
 relieve Thy poor suffering creatures that are 
 dying all around us! ' That prayer used to puzzle 
 me a bit, for I thought it was quite superfluous, 
 it was rain we wanted! and I thought that the 
 parson should keep on persistently praying for 
 that one thing! But I know better now, and the 
 parson's petition was answered right enough. 
 
 '' Another year passed of dire loss and hope- 
 less efforts to move stock to low muddy swamps 
 where there were any signs of moisture. But 
 our lives became so distressing day by day, 
 trying to do what it was impossible to do, 
 namely, save horses and cows that had been 
 pets about the Homestead for years, that even 
 the bravest of us began to give up hope, and 
 the wisdom of abandoning the Run was openly 
 discussed among the hands. 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 105 
 
 "At this miserable stage there came a letter 
 from Maxwell's father which seemed to presage 
 the end of Blue Ridge. The old gentleman 
 wrote to his son that under the hopeless condi- 
 tion of the Station, with all the stock either 
 dying or dead, and seeing that the Run was 
 not freehold, he would not advance any more 
 money on the property, and the only thing for 
 him — Tim — to do was to abandon the place, 
 and try to find employment elsewhere, and 
 nearer civilization. As to selling the place, his 
 father said, that was utterly impossible, no one 
 would give a pound note for the whole concern. 
 
 '' In all the years I had been on the Station, 
 Maxwell and I had been more like close friends 
 than employer and employed. So when Tim 
 laid the whole dismal case before me, and read 
 his father's final decision regarding the financial 
 question, I knew only too well that the matter 
 was about hopeless. But I determined not to 
 give up until / had fired my last shot and 
 played my last card. 
 
 *' I had not much leisure during that terrible 
 time. I was constantly engaged about the Run 
 trying to save a remnant of the stock. But 
 whenever I had a spare day at the Homestead, I 
 read up every scrap that I could find upon the 
 
io6 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 history of artesian well-boring, from the first 
 experiments in Artois, to the splendid success 
 of the system in Algeria and elsewhere. From 
 hazy dreams, my mind gradually became pos- 
 sessed with the fixed idea that in this direction 
 lay hope and salvation for our miserable bit of 
 country, which seemed to be perishing under a 
 curse. 
 
 " By this time all our shallow surface wells 
 had completely dried up, and were as dusty at 
 the bottom as the ground on the surface. But 
 those wells which were sixty or more feet deep 
 never quite gave out through all the years of 
 drought. And it was by having men stationed 
 at the three deep wells drawing water that we 
 were enabled to save a few of the most valuable 
 horses and cattle. To my unscientific mind these 
 wells were proofs that in the ground was the 
 water which good Parson Weston prayed for 
 'in any form.' However, that was not the 
 water which eventually saved the Run, it was 
 hundreds of feet deeper still. These two or 
 three wells, with their few buckets of water 
 apiece, did not count for much on four hundred 
 thousand acres of dry dusty land. But they 
 encouraged me, although they did not cheer 
 poor Maxwell worth a cent! And at last he 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 107 
 
 quite broke down, and told me that he was 
 going to take his wife and a few personal effects 
 in a couple of wagons, and leave Blue Ridge to 
 the miserable wombats and kangaroos! These 
 poor creatures had become so utterly regardless 
 of danger and their natural fear of man, that 
 they constantly prowled around the premises 
 hunting for any scraps of food or drops of 
 water. And seeing these poor things about the 
 place, and the disappearance of the fine fat 
 cattle and sheep of former years, it was quite 
 natural for Maxwell in his despair to designate 
 them his leo^al heirs. 
 
 '' When Maxwell explained to me his plan of 
 abandoning the Run, I strongly urged him to 
 try to induce his father to make an effort at 
 finding artesian water, for I declared that I felt 
 certain that if this were done abundance of 
 w^ater would be found, and he would retrieve 
 his fortunes, and make Blue Ridge ten times 
 more valuable than it was before the drought. 
 
 *' But it was altogether beyond my powers of 
 persuasion to move Maxwell from his purpose. 
 He even told me that he did not intend to go 
 to his father in Sydney, for he inferred, from 
 some pretty plain hints in late letters, that the 
 old gentleman was in rather tight circumstances 
 
io8 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 himself, as he had refused a hundred pounds 
 which Tim had asked for to tide him and his 
 wife over the next few months, until he could 
 find employment. Then poor Tim added, ' I 
 wish I had that hundred sovereigns, which I 
 foolishly gave to those rascally bushrangers at 
 your suggestion, James! But it did not matter 
 much, for if I had not given the money then, it 
 would all have disappeared as hopelessly by this 
 time.' 
 
 " I now realized how low matters had got 
 with Maxwell when his father refused another 
 hundred pounds on a property that four years be- 
 fore was netting anywhere from eight to ten thou- 
 sand per annum. That night I talked to Maxwell 
 till near daylight trying to persuade him to go to 
 his father and personally show to the old gentle- 
 man what a grand success artesian water was 
 certain to be, and how it would retrieve every- 
 body's fortune. But poor Tim was too depressed 
 to move an inch in the matter. However, he 
 agreed with me far enough to give me a letter 
 to his father, and another to his banker — the 
 very man upon whose steam yacht you and I 
 had that pleasant cruise around Port Jackson 
 the other day. 
 
 " Maxwell promised to stay on the place 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 109 
 
 until I should go to Sydney, and see what I 
 could do with his father and the banker, and 
 bring back my report. In the letters Maxwell 
 gave me carte blanche to make any agreement 
 I thought proper about the Run, but with the 
 express reservation that I did not involve him 
 personally in any way in what he considered a 
 lost game. He sent by me all deeds in his 
 possession, and gave me a full power of attor- 
 ney in conjunction with his father and banker 
 to settle the business as we saw fit. 
 
 *' The night before I started on what I knew 
 in my inmost soul was the turning point in my 
 life, our faithful black-fellow postman arrived. 
 As we only had a mail once a month in those 
 days, it was an event of much importance to 
 all hands. Now, when we have letters and news- 
 papers on the breakfast table every morning, 
 we don't think so much about it. 
 
 ** As we all stood around receiving our letters 
 from the book-keeper — who was also postmaster 
 at Blue Ridge — Maxwell burst out with a wild 
 cry. 
 
 '' ' See here, my dear James! ' he cried, ' Your 
 bushrangers are honest men after all. Oh Garoo! 
 Here is an order on the bank of New South 
 Wales for one hundred and sixty pounds sterling. 
 
no JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 The original one hundred pounds, and sixty 
 pounds interest for four years' use of the money, 
 which the fellow states is current interest as 
 stipulated for in the I.O.U. He also calmly 
 states that interest in that sweet land of Cali- 
 fornia is computed by the month, and so may 
 seem to us a bit irregular. Oh my eye! would 
 I had ten thousand pounds at that lovely 
 irregular rate! Why did you not tell me 
 to give those angels (in the disguise of bush- 
 rangers) five hundred sovereigns that lucky 
 day? I thought you were a weak milksop at 
 that time, now I find you are a discerner of 
 men's hearts!' Then Tim gave an extempore 
 sort of war-dance, to the intense delight of the 
 black-fellow postman, winding up by giving him 
 a resounding slap on his bare shoulders, and 
 putting a shining half-crown in his grateful 
 hands. 
 
 '' Pat Montague wrote me a very racy and 
 characteristic letter, describing how the party 
 had got along in California. He said that when 
 they landed in San Francisco, they were at once 
 denominated by the Yankee people of the 
 country 'Sydney Ducks!' 'Why they should 
 have designated us by this gentle cognomen we 
 could not at first make out, but later we dis- 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION iii 
 
 covered that all men from the Australian side 
 of the world bore this poetical appellation. One 
 day I suggested to some gentlemen of the town 
 that on the same principle I supposed that they 
 called ladies from our side ' Duckesses,' but this 
 mild pleasantry was not received with favour, 
 and thereafter I was more careful. These 
 Yankee people are the most tenderly gallant 
 creatures in the world towards the feminine 
 portion of humankind. You can instantly reduce 
 a group of these gentlemen to tears by relating 
 the sufferings of some poor weeping lady carry- 
 ing the body of her sweet little pug-dog which 
 had been run over at some busy street crossing. 
 Or you can excite the same company to hopping- 
 madness by recounting cases of such brutality 
 as men coolly keeping their seats in a car when 
 some adorable young woman had to stand ! ' 
 
 " Then Pat proceeded. * We are getting on 
 finely, and I trust that you are all O.K. at Blue 
 Ridge. And that you are no more troubled by 
 bushrangers, as in the dear old days. Herewith 
 please find one hundred and sixty pounds, 
 principal and interest of your kind loan to a 
 gang of dus/izes. 
 
 * Yours affectionately, 
 
 ' Patrick Montague. 
 
112 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 '''PS, — After the good lesson you taught 
 us we have all learned to help lame dogs over 
 stiles, as we have opportunity.' 
 
 ^P. M.' 
 ''With my one hundred and sixty pounds 
 draft in my pocket I felt myself quite a capitalist, 
 and I determined to get away down to Sydney 
 as quickly as possible, and try what plans I 
 could arrange regarding Blue Ridge. I was 
 loth to abandon the great splendid property 
 which I felt certain only required the treasures 
 of water which lay hidden in its depths to be 
 brought to the surface to make it ten times 
 more fertile than it ever was before. 
 
 '' Maxwell was quite agreeable that I should 
 go down to Sydney and see what I could do, he 
 awaiting my return. But he strictly limited my 
 absence to the shortest possible time, as he 
 could not endure the miserable condition of the 
 place much longer. And really it was most de- 
 pressing to go anywhere about the Run and see 
 the deplorable state of matters. There were 
 very few sheep or cattle left alive on the place. 
 And the few that were still able to crawl were 
 always crowding around the miserable muddy 
 remains of water-holes, while all about the 
 treacherous margins were the dead and dying 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 113 
 
 bodies of sheep and cattle, which had ventured 
 too far into the sticky morass, trying to reach 
 the little puddle of moisture which still glittered 
 temptingly in the centre. 
 
 " It was very curious that the wild animals, 
 kangaroos, wallabys, wombats, etc., never fell 
 into the mud traps which proved so fatal to 
 domestic creatures. Which shows that the civil- 
 izing process has not added to the understanding 
 of the lower strata of our fellow creatures, what- 
 ever it has done to the higher strata. 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Melville's dream realized 
 
 *' Armed with Maxwell's letters of introduction, 
 and my own stout heart, I started for Sydney 
 to * make a spoon or spoil a horn ' as the saying 
 goes. I was strictly limited by Maxwell as to 
 time, but had complete carU blanche with re- 
 gard to everything else. 
 
 "When I reached town I had a long inter- 
 view with Maxwell's father, but I found the 
 old gentleman absolutely obdurate against any 
 scheme of carrying on the Run, and making an 
 
 I 
 
114 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 attempt to find artesian water. The last four 
 years had been so disastrous that the father, 
 like the son, was quite determined to close up 
 the business without spending another shilling 
 upon Blue Ridge. 
 
 " I was very much disappointed, as you may 
 imagine, at the result of my endeavour to enlist 
 Maxwell senior in my views. For I had thought 
 over the matter so intently, and my mind had 
 become so imbued with the artesian idea, that I 
 felt practically certain the splendid property 
 could be saved by that system. 
 
 *' Although Mr. Maxwell could not, or rather 
 would not, do anything, he gave me a few lines 
 of introduction to his and his son's banker. 
 
 " I found my way into the presence of the 
 great man (a banker in the colonies is really a 
 great man) after a good deal of waiting, the 
 various subordinates evidently considering me 
 too young and unsophisticated to be of much 
 account. It is most amusing and even touching 
 to see how those bright youths — or rather their 
 descendants — fly to open a door for me now 
 without a moment's delay. 
 
 " The manager was rather a young looking 
 man to be at the head of such a great concern 
 as the Bank of . But he was one of those 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 115 
 
 men who acquire knowledge at an age when 
 most boys are diligently acquiring the arts of 
 football, cricket, and pitch-penny. 
 
 " After reading my letters, I found the banker 
 quite willing to listen to my story, and having 
 got my opportunity I went into it pretty freely. 
 I stated all the circumstances which led to my 
 position on Blue Ridge. And then I gave him 
 a short description of the Run as it was before 
 the drought, and its present miserable condition. 
 The whole trouble, of course, I fully explained 
 was the want of rain. But if the Run could be 
 made independent of rain it would be one of the 
 finest estates in Australia. And this could only 
 be done with artesian water. 
 
 " At the end of a two-hours confab — the 
 manager taking copious notes every little while 
 — he was gracious enough to invite me to lunch, 
 which I understood as a very favourable omen. 
 
 *' During the next few days we had many 
 meetings. One important factor in our pre- 
 liminary negotiations was finding two French- 
 men who had bored wells in Algeria, and had 
 been engaged and brought to this country by a 
 gentleman on speculation. But the gentleman 
 had failed in his negotiation with the Govern- 
 ment, and so the two French engineers were 
 
ii6 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 stranded in a strange land without money or 
 friends, and were therefore eager to engage 
 with any party at very reasonable rates. At 
 length Maxwell senior, the banker, and myself, 
 formed ourselves into a committee of three to 
 settle the business. The banker had overcome 
 the old gentleman's aversion to my pet scheme 
 far enough to consent to act with us on con- 
 dition that he was not to be involved further 
 than simply releasing the mortgages which he 
 held over the Run and stock. Of course these 
 had to be cancelled before a sale could be made. 
 And it was very touching to see how eager the 
 old gentleman was to get utterly clear of ' Blue 
 Ridge,' and turn his back on the whole miserable 
 concern which had cost him much money and 
 still more anxiety. 
 
 " We soon got to work and settled matters as 
 follows, much to my satisfaction and to poor old 
 Maxwell's also. Firstly, Blue Ridge was to be 
 sold to the highest bidder, that highest bidder 
 to be myself — under the banker's direction. 
 Secondly, the banker to advance the purchase 
 money and to hold a mortgage over everything. 
 And, thirdly, the banker to carry me on with 
 all necessary supplies for two years for certain, 
 but only at his option after that period. 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 117 
 
 ** I need not linger over these transactions, 
 suffice it to say that I was not only the highest, 
 but the only bidder. And Blue Ridge fell to me 
 at the ridiculously low figure of one hundred and 
 fifty pounds ; an estate that would have called 
 forth many a bid over fifty thousand fivQ or six 
 years before. The banker was highly delighted 
 when I produced my draft of one hundred and 
 sixty pounds, and coolly laid it before the 
 auctioneer with an air as if there were plenty 
 more where that came from, instead of only a 
 few carefully preserved notes, upon which I 
 was depending to take me safely out of Sydney, 
 and back to the wilderness. Of course the Run 
 was only leasehold at that time, but my shrewd 
 banker assured me that he would secure the 
 freehold for me as soon as he heard of the 
 success of the first well. Which he did at a very 
 low rate. 
 
 " So all final matters were settled, and I 
 
 James Melville, the cotter's son — became owner 
 of the vast estate of Blue Ridge. At that early 
 stage of my career, with my natural portion of 
 the vanity and improvidence of youth, I had 
 yet common sense enough to hold myself rigidly 
 to ' the common task, the dally round ' In case I 
 lost the concentration of mind which Is necessary 
 
ii8 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 to success in great projects, namely by keeping 
 a close watch and control over details, as Well- 
 ington did at Waterloo. And I fully realized that 
 I was now at the beginning of my Waterloo of 
 success or failure. 
 
 "■ Having settled matters to the best of my 
 ability, one morning (after a rather sleepless 
 night, I must confess) I got my two Frenchmen 
 and myself into a hard seated third class railway 
 compartment, after seeing all the gear and 
 machinery of the well boring plant put safely 
 on a truck. Shortly before the creaky slow train 
 started, the old banker — but he was young then 
 — came down to see me off, and give me a final 
 word of advice. 
 
 " ' Good-bye,' he said, ' remember that you 
 have a hard row to hoe! Don't give up until you 
 test the pros and cons of the job you have 
 bravely undertaken! If it all proves a failure, 
 don't take to bushranging, come back to me, 
 and I will put you on to something else. But 
 above all, keep a stiff upper lip, and brave heart, 
 for no good battle was ever won lacking these. 
 Good-bye, adios, bon-voyage! ' The last words 
 were spoken as the train crawled out of the 
 station, and we waved our hats to each other. 
 
 " When I explained the terms of the sale of 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 119 
 
 Blue Ridge, and my plans for its restoration to 
 more than its pristine prosperity, and at the 
 same time offered to hand over all my lately ac- 
 quired rights to him, and to do my best for the 
 place as his overseer. Maxwell only looked 
 gloomy and said: 
 
 "'My dear Jim Melville! You have been a 
 good shepherd, a good stockman, a good man- 
 ager, and, more than all, a good friend, to me all 
 these years. And I know that you wish to do 
 me good every time. But I sincerely wish that 
 you had cleared out of this God-forsaken country 
 and had not squandered your precious little 
 hundred pounds, nor wasted any more of your 
 life on this dust heap ! Life is too short to play 
 ducks and drakes with our few fleeting years. 
 But since you are determined to go on with this 
 mad scheme of finding water out of wells to re- 
 juvenate four hundred thousand acres of dust, 
 back into its former beautiful fertility, I will 
 not forsake you in your madness. And the wife 
 has also declared her intention to stay to the 
 end, that is until you come away with us, and 
 not persist in this obstinate struggle against 
 Nature until you leave your bones bleaching 
 under the cruel sun, where the bones of all our 
 splendid stock are whitening to-day!' 
 
I20 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 ** By this time every shepherd, stockman, 
 bullock-driver, and knock-about-man had dusted 
 from the station. The only human beings left 
 on the vast Estate (excepting a few blacks) 
 were Maxwell, his wife, myself, the two French 
 engineers, and a wagon-driver whom I had 
 engaged at Copelands to bring me, the two 
 Frenchmen, and their boring apparatus, up to 
 Blue Ridge. 
 
 *' There was no need for men upon the place 
 in those dismal days. The few animals left 
 simply wandered at their own miserable wills, 
 and died welcoming death when they could 
 wander no more. Prize merino sheep worth 
 fifty pounds each, imported cattle that had cost 
 two hundred pounds a head, took their chance 
 with the rest, and died like scrubbers that were 
 hardly worth as many sixpences. 
 
 '* But all this misery did not depress me as it 
 did poor Maxwell. I have seen him return 
 again and again with tears in his eyes, from 
 wandering about the Run, where he had been 
 trying to save sheep and cattle by cutting down 
 trees to afford the suffering creatures a few 
 mouthfuls of the half shrivelled leaves. 
 
 *' His wife also shared his depression, of 
 course, but, woman-like, she could bear it better 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 121 
 
 than her husband, and the good soul got up 
 our simple meals without a murmur or a cross 
 look. The few of us left all messed together, the 
 Frenchmen being quite nice mannered chaps, 
 and my wagoner a quiet old-fashioned Irishman. 
 *' For the experimental well we had fixed 
 upon a spot about a quarter of a mile from the 
 Homestead. If we struck such a flow as the 
 Frenchmen and I expected, there would be ab- 
 undance of water to irrigate all the home pad- 
 docks where we kept, or rather had kept, much 
 of our finest stock. There was a small paddock 
 near the house of about twenty acres, where we 
 usually turned out our riding horses. This pad- 
 dock we had managed to maintain in a state of 
 faint semi-ofreenness in the midst of all the 
 surrounding desolation, by means of one of the 
 few remaining wells which had not completely 
 given out. Over this we had managed to rig 
 a primitive but wonderfully effective wind- 
 mill which set a little pump in constant action, 
 that is when there was any wind, and we gener- 
 ally had a breeze from about ten a.m. to sunset. 
 If it had not been for this cheery little well we 
 could not have stayed at the Homestead at all, 
 for it was the only water within fifteen miles. 
 And, moreover, but for this well the engineers 
 
122 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 could not have found sufficient water for their 
 boiler within a radius of twenty miles, and we 
 had no cattle to haul water even half that dis- 
 tance. 
 
 # :^ # # # 
 
 " So we kept up life and hope for some five 
 months, and shipwrecked sailors drifting on a 
 raft never watched more eagerly for a shower of 
 rain to slake their deadly thirst than we watched 
 day after day for a gleam of water on the steel 
 drill, that had now reached seven hundred feet 
 deep. 
 
 '' At last, on a day which I remember with an 
 intense clearness as I do two, or at most three, 
 other days in my life! one of the Frenchmen 
 came tearing home, leaping fences and yelling 
 like a madman upon Maxwell and me to come! 
 He was quite out of breath, and the only words 
 he could utter were : 
 
 '"Courir/ Water! — Queek! — Queek!' And 
 then we four (the Irishman had come rushing 
 from some job or other, when he heard the cry 
 of ' water ') started across the paddock, looking 
 and acting — I have no doubt — like maniacs on 
 some mad quest. 
 
 " When we reached the scene of operations 
 the eno^ineer had reversed his machine, and was 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 123 
 
 cautiously lifting the drill to the surface. This 
 was no easy job with the primitive rig which 
 the Frenchmen had brought with them to test 
 the first well. 
 
 ''As we approached Le Bas (that was the 
 chief engineer's name), his hands were fully oc- 
 cupied with the engine, but his gleaming eyes, 
 and his wild Basque folk-song — which I verily 
 believe that in his excitement he trolled forth 
 quite unconsciously — confirmed me in the belief 
 that my wildest dreams were near realization ! 
 And in spite of much loss of breath during that 
 mad run, I flourished my tattered but once 
 beautiful cabbage tree hat, and gave such a 
 startling hurrah that a poor skinny old-man- 
 kangaroo, which seemed too weak to get out of 
 our way, pricked up his ears in wild panic, and 
 with a few ungainly bounds disappeared in the 
 scrub, like a youngster. 
 
 ''When we four added our united strength 
 to the rope and chain, we soon brought the 
 drill to the surface. The well had been piped 
 for the first fifty feet as the boring was through 
 loose earth. At that depth solid rock was struck, 
 and thereafter, although the progress was slow 
 — from four to five feet a day — there was no 
 further trouble with caving or loose earth. 
 
124 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 *' As we worked at the chain to get the drill 
 safely up — an operation which had to be done 
 very cautiously or the heavy steel instrument 
 might drop to the bottom of the well, and so be 
 lost beyond all our powers of recovery — the 
 Frenchmen wore smiling faces, every little while 
 putting their ears to the top of the pipe, and 
 whispering, * Bravo ! mon ami, le bon Eau ! Ah 
 merci, bon Dieu!' 
 
 " Then came the supreme moment! The drill 
 appeared at the top of the pipe, and little 
 squirts of w^ater kept hissing up as if eager to 
 get into the sunlight after ages of imprison- 
 ment in the dark hidden recesses of the earth. 
 One of the Frenchmen — good chap! he was a 
 sympathetic judge of human feelings at supreme 
 moments — stopped the wheezing little engine, 
 and held up his hand for us to cease hauling. 
 In a moment he filled a pannikin from a hissing 
 little jet, and handing it to me said: 
 
 '' ' Drink, Monsieur! And thank the Blessed 
 Virgin, who has given us this first trisor from 
 the earth, and will give us many more! ' 
 
 " I did drink, humbly and thankfully! Not 
 exactly in the form which Le Bas advised (we 
 had been taught in different schools), but none 
 the less I drank with a humble and grateful 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 125 
 
 heart. And, oh the delight of that most delicious 
 draught of nectar I ever put to my lips ! 
 
 " Then the drill was lifted almost clear of the 
 pipe by the great force of water; and when we 
 got things cleared away, there was a splendid 
 flow rushing over the pipe five or six feet above 
 the ground, and pouring out in a splendid circle 
 like a great crystal lipped vase of the most 
 exquisite workmanship and wondrous colours. 
 
 " We were all deeply affected, but nearly all 
 silently. The Frenchmen gazed at the wonderful 
 sight, crossing themselves reverently several 
 times, with very grateful hearts, I knew full 
 well. Maxwell never said a word, and looked 
 pale and even awe-stricken as he plunged his 
 hands again and again into the cool sparkling 
 treasure from the earth ! That earth which, to 
 judge from our portion of it, was burned dry to 
 its very centre! 
 
 "My Irish wagon-driver looked long and 
 silently at the splendid rush of water, and then 
 burst forth with a pathos in his voice as if tears 
 were not far off: 
 
 *'*Ah! Thank the good God! This is the 
 prettiest sight I have ever seen since I last 
 saw ould Dennis Macshane pour the beautiful 
 Mountain Still whisky with a fine free gush into 
 
126 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 the bonnle wooden Coggles ! Ah, that was 
 the stuff to make a man thankful, and this is 
 another ! And oh, it is a miracle of the Blessed 
 Saints how the good man Dennis managed to 
 brew the beautiful liquid and keep clear of the 
 excisemen spalpeens! That was one good 
 miracle, and this is another! Praise God!' 
 
 " That well was the first of the hundred and 
 forty exhaustless wells on Blue Ridge Station 
 to-day, and which have practically rendered the 
 Run independent of rain. 
 
 *' The night following the day of the great 
 event of the first flowing well, I had a long 
 momentous talk with Maxwell and his wife on 
 the altered aspect of affairs since we had proved 
 by the actual flowing water that irrigation was 
 not only possible but simple and practical, and 
 that consequently the restoration of the Run 
 to more than its former fertility was only a 
 matter of intelligence and perseverance. I 
 therefore urgently advised Maxwell — lest in 
 the future he should bitterly regret having lost 
 the splendid estate — to take over the property 
 just as I held it, freehold, and clear title. As I 
 say, I urged him to take it, although I must 
 admit it was done with a severe pang, for I 
 had visions of the splendid estate Blue Ridge 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 127 
 
 might possibly become. But I was determined 
 to hold the property only on two conditions, 
 namely, a clean title and a clean conscience. 
 
 *' But Maxwell merely shook his head, and 
 although he thanked me for what he called my 
 generous offer, yet declared that he had slept 
 better, and decidedly felt better, since he was 
 ' shut ' of the whole concern, and found himself 
 a free man. 
 
 '' ' And now,' said Maxwell, ' I will have an 
 unbiased mind to study philosophy. For in- 
 stance, *' A man's life consisteth not in the 
 abundance of the things which he possesseth," 
 and odd things of that sort, which of course if 
 a man becomes wealthy it would not only be 
 foolishness, but I suppose bad form to study at 
 all! So my dear Jim, I will keep on the safe 
 lowly paths, and give you the benefit of my 
 discoveries from time to time.' 
 
 "And mind you, with all my added know- 
 ledge since then of men and the world in 
 
 o 
 
 general, I cannot say Maxwell made a mistake 
 that night. And I know for certain that he has 
 never regretted his choice! In spite of his active 
 habits of mind and body, there is a singular 
 simplicity of character, and mysticism, in Tim 
 Maxwell's make up, which exemplifies in a 
 
128 JAMES MELVILLE ESQUIRE 
 
 wonderful manner the profound truthfulness of 
 that aphorism which he quoted so aptly when 
 we were both at the parting of the ways. 
 
 " ' A man's life consisteth not in the abund- 
 ance of the things which he possesseth.' 
 
 " And now at eventide, when I look back- 
 ward and take everything into consideration, I 
 really think that Maxwell has had the best of 
 it. A thousand times less care and bother, 
 sounder sleep, fewer regrets, and none of the 
 worries which dog the footsteps of the so-called 
 successful man. Never a shudder by day or 
 night at the ghastly sword of Damocles, sus- 
 pended by a single hair over the rich man's 
 head even in the chances and changes of this 
 world, and in the world to come! ' It is easier 
 for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, 
 than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom 
 of God.' So there is no doubt that Tim Maxwell 
 got the best of the bargain, and what is more, 
 the lucky dog is wise enough to know it! 
 
 *' I am referring to a time nearer forty than 
 thirty years ago. And Maxwell has been my 
 trusted overseer here ever since. We never 
 had a writing between us, but that night we 
 exchanged our old fashioned Erles-penny in the 
 shape of a crooked sixpence from each to each. 
 
OF BLUE RIDGE STATION 129 
 
 In these we punched a hole, and have carried 
 them outwardly on our watch-chains, and in- 
 wardly in our hearts, faithfully to this day. 
 That is the end of my little bush story. And as 
 you have noticed the singularly contented ex- 
 pression on my overseer's face, you know the 
 reason. For Tim Maxwell was developing into 
 a first-class-anxious-business-man, when I took 
 the load off his shoulders, and became the 
 burden-bearer myself! " 
 
 K 
 
THE LAST CRUISE OF THE 
 DEVONPORT 
 
THE LAST CRUISE OF THE 
 DEVONPORT 
 
 AND THE VISION A MORTAL MAN WAS 
 PERMITTED TO SEE 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 Shipmate! 'twas thirty years agone, mayhap 'twas somewhat 
 
 more, 
 I sailed in the whaler Devonport, from England's bonnie 
 
 shore, 
 In the month o' May, when hawthorns bloom, and merry 
 
 cuckoos call, 
 When throstles build, and cowslips blow, and apple-blossoms 
 
 fall. 
 
 My father prayed to hold me, for I was his only lad. 
 
 But I caught the glamour of the sea, my heart grew hot and 
 
 mad 
 With the tales the seamen told me of a broader earth and sky, 
 Where youth's dreams had freer action, where the blessed 
 
 islands lie ! 
 
 I left my weeping mother and my sisters — silly fool ! 
 
 And many a year has flown since my head had time to cool; 
 
134 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 But the glamour of the ocean holds me yet; I cannot sleep 
 If I do not feel the motion, hear the moaning of the deep. 
 
 Oh! the bonnie white-caps leaping with a merry all-sail 
 
 breeze, 
 Oh ! the mystery and the beauty of the night in tropic seas, 
 Oh! the ecstasy of flying when the storm-wrack wails and 
 
 cries. 
 And day and night are all as one, in leaden-coloured skies. 
 
 Some live upon the land and die, and then are laid to rest. 
 Beside the dear old village church, in ground that has been 
 
 blest: 
 But, shipmate, when my watch is called, no dreary ground 
 
 for me. 
 But a grave a thousand fathoms deep, beneath the tropic 
 
 sea! 
 
 A bed upon the coral sand, where colours warm and bright 
 Will shimmer round me all the day, and stars through all the 
 
 night; 
 Where I'll hear the ocean voices — faint and far the breaker's 
 
 roar. 
 Floating softly on the night-wind, from some palm-encircled 
 
 shore. 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 135 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE SOUTH SEAS 
 
 HAT I am going to set down is 
 neither story nor history, it is 
 merely an authentic record of 
 second sight, a kind of sight which 
 is frequently hereditary in families, and which 
 my friend Kinross told me had been a gift in his 
 family for generations. In Scotland it is not at 
 all prized or paraded by the gifted individual, 
 man or woman, in fact it is always concealed and 
 ignored as much as possible; in olden times for 
 the dire punishments, both civil and ecclesias- 
 tical, meted out to the " no canny body," man, 
 woman, or child; and in modern days for fear 
 of the ridicule which the possessor always ex- 
 cites among the so-called universally-enlight- 
 ened population. 
 
 On our voyage from Heao to Sydney, both 
 Kinross and I felt a bit lonely after nearly a 
 couple of months of most congenial companion- 
 ship with our friends in that fairy bower of en- 
 chantment; and so my old friend and I drew 
 
136 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 closer and .closer than we had ever done before 
 — if that, indeed, were possible. In this way, of 
 course, we did heaps of talking on that trip, 
 some of it frivolous, no doubt, but a good deal 
 of it profitable, and certainly entertaining to our 
 two selves; what it might be to others I cannot 
 exactly say. But the following reminiscence of 
 a strange adventure which befell Kinross in his 
 young days interested me greatly, and I think 
 it well worth recording. 
 
 Kinross crave me several instances of second 
 
 o 
 
 sight occurring in his own family, which were 
 absolutely authentic, besides those which had 
 come into his own life. I remember one most 
 distinctly, which seemed to me very tender and 
 touching. Once when his grandfather (who was 
 a sailor, as all the sons of the family had been 
 for generations) was captured by a French 
 frigate, after a hard-fought fight, and cast into 
 prison to await his chance of exchange, he 
 managed to send a letter of love and condolence 
 to his wife by the hand of a friend who was 
 fortunate enough to be included in a batch of 
 exchanged prisoners. In this letter he condoled 
 with his wife over the death of a beloved child, 
 of whose death, or even illness, it was quite im- 
 possible for him to have received the slightest 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 137 
 
 intimation excepting through spiritual mes- 
 sengers. 
 
 Many such instances of second sight were 
 perfectly well authenticated in the family, and 
 Kinross related several interesting and touch- 
 ing records of these strange (as it seems to our 
 limited minds) premonitions, but which, no 
 doubt, are to the spiritual world as simple as 
 common daily events of life are to us. 
 
 As bearing on this subject, Kinross gave me 
 the following account of an adventure which 
 befell himself on the South American coast, and 
 which to him was as absolutely real as any other 
 event of his life. My friend and I had become 
 so thoroughly congenial to each other that it 
 never entered our minds to be reticent, or in 
 the least degree reserved in our mutual remin- 
 iscences, hence when either of us got launched 
 on any subject whatever (and they were many 
 and curious) we were never brought to a stand- 
 still by that disagreeable feeling "What will my 
 listener think of this." We had too perfect 
 innate knowledge of each other's minds ever to 
 fear that our confidences would be misunder- 
 stood or unappreciated. 
 
 On that voyage from the Marquesas to 
 Sydney we made a pretty straight course of it. 
 
i:;8 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 and consequently passed within hailing distance, 
 as you may say, of many an enchanted island 
 and wonderful coral reef, with nothing to dis- 
 tinguish the latter from the sparkling tropic 
 seas save the waving palm fronds and the curl- 
 ing crests of the combers as they crashed and 
 boomed, threatening every moment to sweep 
 reef and little grove of cocoa-nuts out of exist- 
 ence. But that was merely a fancy! for the 
 brave little architects who built the reef — work- 
 ing day and night for many a year — had done 
 their work so faithfully that storm and sea 
 might crush the life out of the stoutest ship that 
 ever sailed the seas, but could never budge the 
 clever little zoophyte's work by one inch. 
 
 It was drawing on to autumn in those lati- 
 tudes, and we found the trades very light even 
 by day — when as a rule these appropriately- 
 named winds breeze up their stiffest — while at 
 night they dropped so light that the schooner 
 barely had steering way. 
 
 This would have been hard luck for a mariner 
 anxious to make a quick passage, but to 
 Kinross's philosophical mind, and to my Bo- 
 hemian nature, it was altogether welcome and 
 soothing, while to our Kanaka crew it was 
 simply the perfection of sea-life. 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 139 
 
 Many a day we slid slowly past enchanting 
 tropical islands clothed to their utmost summits 
 with gorgeously luxuriant forests, and for miles 
 and miles their white beaches shaded by splen- 
 did cocoa-nut groves ; where by night — as the 
 schooner crept slowly past — we could make out 
 here and there the flicker of a fire where we 
 knew that the merry islanders were at their 
 evening meal, happy, careless, and healthy, as 
 they always are, if what we call civilization only 
 leaves them alone. 
 
 * # # # # 
 
 It was under such conditions that Kinross 
 and I exchanged many memories of bygone 
 days; some that might have seemed trifling 
 enough perhaps to a disinterested listener, but 
 not one of them in the least frivolous to us, for 
 we were too dependent upon and too interested 
 in each other to think the smallest scraps of the 
 vanished years unworthy of record. We both 
 had the sort of mind that finds great entertain- 
 ment in simple personal experiences, the com- 
 monplace things which befall us all more or less 
 in our journey of Hfe — in short, facts rather than 
 inventions of the imagination. 
 
 It was mostly in the glorious nights that we 
 had our best talks. With the moonlight and 
 
I40 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 starlight so perfectly pure and clear that it 
 seemed to us that we could see beyond those 
 glittering worlds, and right into the mysterious 
 spaces where mortals cannot explore even with 
 all their wonderful inventions, and still more 
 wonderful intellect. " A little lower than the 
 angels"! Ah, proud vain man! a little lower! 
 there is your limit, and you had better give it 
 up, and try to become like the little children of 
 whom Christ said " of such is the Kingdom of 
 God." 
 
 Often our quiet talks were on the fascinating 
 subject of the many instances of communica- 
 tions with the life beyond, which are recorded in 
 the Bible, but which are so rare, vague, and un- 
 reliable in modern times. For, if we except the 
 trashy manifestations of the so-called " spiritu- 
 alists," crystal-gazers, fakirs, etc., communica- 
 tion with the greater Life which we know lies 
 around us seems to have ceased. Is it want of 
 Faith on our part, or is it the blighting influence 
 of infidelity which has closed the portal that 
 once stood so freely open to all who came to 
 God in the simplicity and faith of children? 
 The modern men and women of civilization are 
 so constituted and shaped by modern ideas and 
 materialistic beliefs that the spiritual world has 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 141 
 
 nearly faded from their conception altogether, 
 and the tremendous facts recorded in the oldest 
 and most profound Book in our world have come 
 to be regarded as old-world fables. If you speak 
 of some event happening, which to our finite 
 understanding is quite beyond the ordinary 
 course of what is called '' natural law," you are 
 immediately met with an incredulous stare, and 
 the pert query, *' You do not believe in miracles, 
 do you ? " and ten to one you wriggle out of 
 your (under the circumstances) untenable posi- 
 tion as politely as you may, but by no means 
 changed in your beliefs one way or the other by 
 the frivolous, foolish question. 
 
 As for our Religion, and what is called 
 *' natural law," they have been a series of 
 miracles from the creation of Adam to the birth 
 of the last infant which made its advent on our 
 earth. You cannot get rid of miracles! Natural 
 law, as it is glibly called, and miracles are one 
 and the same. Men have given them different 
 names, but they are equally beyond the power 
 of man to make or unmake, and both are equally 
 beyond our mortal ken, and probably will be 
 beyond our spiritual knowledge in the unex- 
 plored regions towards which we are hasting. 
 
 As bearing on this fascinating subject, my 
 
142 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 friend related the following experience, which 
 seems to me well worth preserving. With re- 
 gard to the facts of the incident I know that I 
 can rely upon my friend's recollections as I 
 could upon my own personal experience. 
 
 I will practically relate the adventure in his 
 own words, and though I may misquote the 
 original words here or there I will follow his 
 exact meaning. And this is how Kinross told 
 it to me as we were slowly slipping — or rather 
 drifting — past the Samoa Islands. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 PRINCESS 
 
 ** After my service with the Doctor and his wife 
 on the Island — all of which you know — I went 
 back to my position on the brig Queen Mary. 
 Captain Muir, by his agreement with my father, 
 was honourably if not legally bound to deliver 
 me up safely at the end of the voyage. Thus 
 after five or six years of sea life I found myself 
 once more under the paternal roof, and amid 
 the familiar and still loved surroundings of 
 childhood. 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 143 
 
 " The old scenes were as delightful and dear 
 as ever. The hills and the burns were as beauti- 
 ful as in bygone days; the hearts I loved, and 
 who loved me, were true as of yore, and per- 
 fectly unchanged. But — there is always a but 
 in this life — alas, I was changed! irremediably 
 changed in soul and body, and in my outlook 
 on the world and life. 
 
 ** My father quickly diagnosed my trouble (he 
 had gone through it all himself in the days of 
 his youth), but my mother, dear soul, never quite 
 understood my malady. And that's the differ- 
 ence between men and women " — said Kinross 
 reflectively — " Men have to fight the battle of 
 life in the open, women have to make and keep 
 the home — a man may buy a house but he can t 
 make a home — if either of them shirk their 
 destiny, sorrow and disaster must result. 
 
 '' So it ended, or I should rather say it led to 
 me making another start on the voyage of life. 
 This time I shipped as A.B. on the whaler 
 Devonport preparing to sail from the port of the 
 same name, on a whaling voyage to the South 
 Seas. The Devonport was a fine wholesome 
 ship of a fashion that is not often met with now- 
 adays. Plenty of beam to carry canvas on a 
 bowline in a stiff breeze, without having men 
 
144 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 stationed at every halyard for fear of turning 
 turtle — as they have to do on their very uncom- 
 fortable swordfish-clippers that go racing half 
 under water whenever there is a bit of a sea on, 
 and — as old sailors say — ' only coming up once 
 a week to spout/ 
 
 " The Devonport lowered four boats, and car- 
 ried a crew of thirty-four men all told. In those 
 days the English whaleships were fitted out for 
 long voyages, never less than two, and generally 
 for three or four years if they went fishing in 
 the south seas. Of course the English or Scotch 
 ships bound for the Greenland whaling grounds 
 only intended to remain out during one summer, 
 although some had to stay out for two or three, 
 and some for ever in those inhospitable regions 
 of snow and ice. 
 
 " But the Devo7iport was bound for the warm, 
 laughing, south seas, not the sullen frozen waters 
 of the North. 
 
 " Our Captain — William Truelove by name — 
 had his wife and daughter (a beautiful little girl 
 of some eleven or twelve) along with him that 
 voyage. His wife had been with the Captain on 
 other voyages, but Princess — that was the only 
 name she was known by on the ship — had never 
 been on a real deep-sea voyage before, only little 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 145 
 
 pleasure trips on local steamers. So it was a 
 never-failing entertainment for the little lady to 
 watch the various operations of setting, reefing, 
 taking in sail, and all the many changes taking 
 place on a great sailing ship, instead of only 
 hearing and seeing the management of the noisy, 
 smoky little hookers she had hitherto been ac- 
 customed to. 
 
 " As the voyage progressed we of the forecastle 
 soon found that Princess was a wonderful sort 
 of child, I suppose her parents knew it before! 
 As she became more accustomed to the ship and 
 sea life she grew more and more fearless, much 
 to the terror of her parents, but to the intense 
 delight and amusement of the sailors. Many 
 and many a time I have seen her standing on 
 the fore, or maintop, clinging to the rigging, 
 her half-girlish, half-boyish rig fluttering in the 
 sharp breeze; while she stood safe and firm 
 laughing and calling to the men as they made 
 the slapping sail secure and smiled delightedly 
 back to her, but all the while keeping their tell- 
 tale faces out of sight from the of^cer on deck, 
 for fear of a severe reprimand for encouraging 
 the child in her dangerous pranks. 
 
 ** It was rather strange to a youngster like my- 
 self, with all the memory of my strict Scotch 
 
 L 
 
146 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 bringing up still fresh in mind — instant obedi- 
 ence, etc. — to see the easy way our little lady 
 forgot her parents' commands, commands which 
 apparently were not expected to be obeyed. 
 For instance, her mother would strictly instruct 
 the child not to go beyond the break of the poop 
 — an order which it was simply impossible for 
 an active child to obey, with all the attractions 
 here and there, fore and aft. In a few minutes 
 Princess would be sitting on an upturned bucket 
 or a coil of rope, eagerly asking the carpenter 
 questions about some work or other which he 
 might have on hand. Then when her mother 
 would look up from her book, she would sigh 
 and shake her head, while her daughter would 
 smile, wave her hand, and so would end the 
 strict injunctions for that time. 
 
 " But you must not suppose that Princess was 
 a spoiled child in the ordinary sense of that word. 
 In fact it was impossible to place her in the 
 category of ordinary little girls, for she did not 
 belong to any class or kind I had ever met in 
 my limited experience, and even Chips admitted 
 to me that * the lassie was quite by ordinar' 
 and a wonderfu' wean ! ' This from Chips, with 
 his many years and vast experience, gave me 
 much food for thought, and a vague sort of re- 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 147 
 
 verence for our little lady. We soon found out 
 that her kind heart was full of love and tender- 
 ness. Suffering of any kind instantly aroused 
 her sympathy and desire to help the afflicted. 
 If a man cut his finger, in a flash Princess would 
 have a nice bandage, with some soothing stuff 
 from the medicine chest, and the wounded man 
 always declared that the very touch of her hands, 
 as she carefully bound up his finger, allayed the 
 pain. 
 
 " Princess had also a way with her which was 
 quite startling to my calm, orthodox Scotch 
 mind. She had the strangest modes of express- 
 ing her wishes to God, and imploring His mercy 
 upon any one who aroused the love and sym- 
 pathy in her kind little soul. But in spite of her 
 queer ways she was by no means an unruly, or on 
 the other hand a morbid, child. She always paid 
 the strictest attention to the politely expressed 
 wishes of the carpenter, * Chips,' as Princess had 
 learned from the sailors to call him. If he ex- 
 pressed the opinion that she ought to go to 
 her mother, as perhaps she was feeling lonely, 
 the young lady would smile sweetly, trot off to 
 her mother, and presently we would see them 
 talking and laughing together over some pleas- 
 ant story, or funny joke. 
 
148 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 " In looking back to those old days, I find it 
 quite impossible to draw Princess's character cor- 
 rectly. One day, or rather one moment, I would 
 make up my mind that she was an ordinary 
 little girl, and the next I would feel certain she 
 was not of earth at all, but a beautiful little 
 angel wandering out of heaven — and perhaps 
 she was ! 
 
 '* With all her strange ways, and quickly chang- 
 ing moods, I never saw the child in anger, as 
 ordinary children are so apt to be. Only once 
 I saw her in a fierce blaze of indignation, and 
 certainly she had ample cause for her anger on 
 the occasion I refer to ; but I will come to that 
 episode by and by, if you have patience. 
 # # # # * • 
 
 *' We rounded Cape Horn in the month of 
 January, so we had the mildest time of the year 
 to pass that storm-infested region. 
 
 '' While slowly working our way north in the 
 Pacific we had much good luck, taking several 
 fine sperm whales before we reached Callao, 
 which port we were to call at to ship our oil 
 direct home, and to lay in fresh stores for our 
 future use — we had been out nearly ten months, 
 and were getting a bit short of things. 
 
 *' Before taking you into Callao (the finest 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 149 
 
 harbour on the west coast, but so earthquake- 
 infested that the houses are built of wicker-work 
 and plastered with mud, so that they cannot 
 fall, but only waggle about in the severest and 
 most prolonged earthquakes) I must recount a 
 tremendous piece of fun which happened at the 
 capture of our last whale before we reached 
 port. 
 
 " I was not attached to any boat at that time, 
 being considered too young and inexperienced 
 to pull a first-rate stroke although I was entered 
 on the ship's books as A.B. But on the day in 
 question I was ordered into the captain's boat 
 to replace a man who had hurt his hand with a 
 marline-spike while splicing a heavy rope. So 
 I was lucky enough to be in the midst of the 
 stunning fun — as the men called it — but our 
 skipper saw no sign of fun that day, and this 
 was how it happened. 
 
 '* Of course there is always a good deal of 
 bustle when getting ready to start after whales. 
 On the occasion I refer to there was extra 
 excitement as there were a large number of 
 whales (a * school,' as whalemen say) in sight, 
 and each boat's crew hoped to secure a fish to 
 themselves. 
 
 ** The man whose place I was to supply that 
 
I50 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 day pulled the stroke — that is the after oar — 
 so that was my position as we cast oft from 
 the falls, and shipped our oars. The captain of 
 course steered his own boat (with the usual 
 long heavy oar) which is always the correct 
 position for the officer in charge of a boat until 
 his boat-steerer — who pulls the bow oar — stands 
 up at the word of command, and does his best 
 to dart a harpoon into poor leviathan; when 
 this critical performance is accomplished he 
 springs aft and takes the steer oar, and the 
 officer assumes the difficult and dangerous task 
 of killing the whale. 
 
 " As we shipped our oars and started on the 
 chase, of course in my position at the after oar 
 I was the nearest to the skipper, and I noticed 
 that he had stowed his oil-skin coat under the 
 loggerhead — which of course you know is chock 
 aft — to keep it out of the way, I suppose, but 
 the coat kept something else out of the way, 
 of which he little dreamt. 
 
 " It only took us a short time to get into close 
 quarters with the whales, and no doubt the 
 intense excitement of the chase prevented the 
 captain noticing the queer expressions of mirth, 
 as well as a vague sort of anxiety on the men's 
 faces, a most unusual expression for men in the 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 151 
 
 eager excitement of chasing whales. But the 
 captain looking intently ahead watching the 
 movements of the whales was prevented from 
 taking notice of anything else, while we watch- 
 ing our oars, and looking directly aft, were suf- 
 fering badly from fear of consequences, and 
 wild, suppressed laughter. 
 
 '' After a short pull of twenty minutes or there- 
 about, the skipper called to the boat-steerer to 
 stand up and prepare to dart his harpoon. In 
 a few moments we were almost touching the 
 great monster, and were ordered to back water 
 or we should strike the whale with our sharp 
 stem, and most likely come to grief. 
 
 " But our skipper was too experienced a hand 
 to make mistakes of that sort. Stopping the 
 boat in the nick of time, he ordered the boat- 
 steerer to dart, which he did in a very satis- 
 factory manner, sending the harpoon clean up 
 to the hilt in the whale's shining back. Then 
 with three light springs the captain and boat- 
 steerer changed positions. But there was 
 another change of position which was not on 
 the programme, and which almost resulted in 
 the boat-steerer tumbling overboard with dumb- 
 founded astonishment; for he having been in 
 the bow of the boat, and eagerly watching for 
 
152 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 the captain's signal to jump up and dart his 
 harpoon, had not jaloused what the rest of us 
 knew, namely, that Princess had stowed herself 
 snugly abaft her fathers coat, evidently with 
 the intention of popping out at the supreme 
 moment when the whale was struck! and this 
 the brave little witch now did, to the utter un- 
 manning of our boat-steerer, poor Tim Derry! 
 so much so that the skipper had to use some 
 strong language before Tim realized that he 
 was being ordered to lay the boat nearer to the 
 whale. Fortunately Tim had his wits about 
 him sufficiently to tell the child to sit low down 
 in the stern-sheets, lest her father should see 
 her and have a fit, and fall on to the whale and 
 be killed or drowned! At this fearful admonition 
 of Tim's, Princess made herself as small as 
 possible under her father's coat, but she could 
 not resist the temptation of peeping out every 
 few seconds at the mighty monster, whose 
 capture she had risked her life to witness. 
 
 '' When the dangerous operation — killing a 
 sperm whale is always a dangerous job — was 
 over, the captain came aft and the boat-steerer 
 went forward to attend to his further duties. 
 As the skipper stepped over my oar on to the 
 stern sheets, he picked up his coat — with the 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 153 
 
 intention, I think, of putting it on, as a slight 
 drizzle of rain was beginning to fall. But he 
 didn't put it on! he sat down on my knees 
 with — to me — a very painful bump, and at the 
 same time uttering a very profane exclamation. 
 But I know that we all thought it quite excus- 
 able under the disconcerting and totally un- 
 expected circumstances. Our astounded skipper 
 kept sitting on my knees — much to my incon- 
 venience — and staring with bulging eyes at his 
 little daughter, but never saying another word 
 after his sudden, unconsidered ebullition, while 
 Princess, squatting down at her father's feet, 
 looked up in his face with no less gleaming- 
 eyes than his. Then wriggling on to her 
 knees, and glancing at the great whale, she 
 cried: 
 
 " ' Oh father! I am so glad! I know now all 
 about this wonderful big fishing! I don't believe 
 a girl ever before this helped to catch a great 
 whale. I am now like the wonderful people 
 they put in books. I shall try to hide in your 
 boat every time you are going to catch whales! 
 Now, my dear father, put on your oil-skin, or 
 you may catch cold after such violent exertions. 
 But oh, you did look brave and handsome as 
 you stood up with the great lance, ready to 
 
154 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 dart, I am so glad I saw you, dear father! Now 
 let us hurry home to the ship, for mother is 
 sure to be looking for me everywhere, and 
 getting anxious and worried/ 
 
 " As Princess rattled on, her father pulled him- 
 self together, and, commanding her to sit still, 
 he seized the steer-oar, and signalled to the 
 second mate to join us in towing the prize. That 
 tow was a very silent, but not at all a gloomy, 
 piece of work, for every man of us (excepting, 
 of course, our nonplussed skipper) was nearly 
 exploding with suppressed mirth, while Princess 
 beamed upon us all in the most exuberant 
 spirits, evidently well pleased with her great 
 achievement. 
 
 # # # # # 
 
 '' I have recounted that queer adventure just to 
 show you what a curious combination our lady 
 was. Fear, or even timidity, were qualities 
 which had been quite neglected in her make-up. 
 And the strangest part of it all was the fact that 
 the child was of the gentlest and tenderest sort. 
 With all her courage and utter lack of fear, she 
 was a most loving and tender creature, with a 
 passionate sympathy for all kinds of suffering. 
 Along with this sympathy, and perhaps in con- 
 sequence of It, Princess possessed a strange 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 155 
 
 gift of alleviating suffering in body or mind. I 
 have had many proofs of this psychic power, 
 and I am quite sure that it is simply the power 
 of sympathy and tenderness which most people 
 have lost in the state which is called ' civilized/ 
 but which I have seen highly developed in those 
 we designate ' savages/ Only, you must re- 
 member that it has nothing to do with science, 
 or spiritualism, or such nonsense. 
 
 '' I will give you an instance of this simple but 
 wonderful power which Princess possessed, and 
 you can form your own opinion. Mind, I am 
 not trying to convince you one way or the other; 
 I am only telling you of a child it was my happy 
 fate to be shipmate with for nearly two years, 
 and who, I know, influenced the whole of my 
 future life much to my good. 
 
 '' Once, in a stiff breeze, our fourth mate, who 
 was with the men of his watch on the fore-top- 
 sail-yard reefing the sail, was struck by the 
 heavy flapping canvas, and knocked off the 
 yard. In falling, he struck the main stay, which 
 partly broke his fall — otherwise he would have 
 been killed outright — but as it was he broke his 
 left leg and arm, and was so badly injured that 
 no one expected him to live, and he himself — 
 poor fellow — implored the captain to slide him 
 
156 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 overboard with a bit of pig-iron ballast to take 
 him quickly down where he would be at once 
 out of his misery. 
 
 "In our small community every one knew of 
 the accident a few moments after it happened ; 
 and Princess was on the scene before any one 
 could prevent her, or warn the child that it was 
 not a proper sight for her to see. But she soon 
 saw and understood what had happened, and 
 without a moment's hesitation, she crept through 
 the group of men (most of whom, like soft- 
 hearted sailors, were in tears though they tried 
 to hide it) and dropped on her knees beside the 
 half-dead man. Laying her hands on his fore- 
 head she slowly moved them down over his 
 eyes, a movement she kept on repeating, while 
 she softly, but quite distinctly, said the Lord's 
 Prayer, and it seemed to me that she said that 
 wonderful petition in a tone and manner I had 
 never heard before. She did not appear to 
 notice at all the group of men by whom she 
 was surrounded, in fact, she seemed as totally 
 oblivious to the presence of any creature save 
 the ghastly man to whom she was ministering, 
 as though he and she were the only living 
 beings on the ship. 
 
 " In a little while poor Dan Martin — that was 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 157 
 
 the man's name — lay quite still, as if his suffer- 
 ings had ceased, and he seemed to be falling 
 into sleep. Then the old doctor (we carried a 
 medico, as most English whalers did in those 
 days) ordered half-a-dozen men on each side to 
 slip their hands under Dan's body, and carry 
 him gently into the deck-house, where by re- 
 moving the table, there was a good clear space 
 to arrange a double mattress on which to lay 
 him, and leave ample room for the doctor, and 
 a couple of assistants to do whatever the doctor 
 considered could be done for one whom we all 
 supposed to be a dying man. 
 
 ** While we were making these arrangements, 
 Princess kept her hands on Dan's face, and say- 
 ing words which we thought were some awful 
 incantation, and no wonder a lot of simple sea- 
 men should think so, seeing what a strange 
 change had come over the injured man in a few 
 minutes. From a raving, dying man — as we 
 supposed our shipmate to be — he was restored 
 to calmness and rest, and a right mind, merely 
 by the words and touch of a little child! 
 
 " Of course, the doctor was not in the least 
 impressed by the change in Dan's condition; 
 merely saying — in the medico's wise, superior 
 fashion — that men suddenly and fatally injured 
 
158 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 often fell into a comatose condition as death 
 began to obliterate all physical sensations. 
 
 *' Although the sailors did not in the least 
 comprehend the Doctor s explanation of Dan's 
 condition, not even understanding his learned 
 words — yet being deeply impressed thereby, as 
 the ignorant always are impressed by the fee- 
 fo-fum of what is incomprehensible to them — 
 they never questioned the perfect accuracy of 
 his statement, and stood around with hats off, 
 in simple sailor respect and awe, waiting to see 
 our shipmate trip his anchor and shape his course 
 for that unknown port from whence no voyager 
 returns. 
 
 " Princess did not take the least notice of the 
 doctor s prognostication, nor of the men s solemn 
 and silent attitude. So after a bit of a pause, it 
 seemed to dawn upon the doctor's profound 
 mind — all doctors have profound minds accord- 
 ing to sailor logic — that he might exercise his 
 skill upon Dan's much broken-up body, even 
 though the man were dying. Before begin- 
 ning operations he requested her parents to 
 remove Princess, as the sight would be too try- 
 ing for the child to witness. Although our good 
 doctor knew many scientific problems, he did 
 not then know how wonderfully our little lady 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 159 
 
 was constituted, but he partially understood that 
 also, along with his collection of much learned 
 stuff, before the voyage of the Devonport came 
 to an end, 
 
 " When her parents took her hands, and whis- 
 pered to Princess that she must come away from 
 Dan, as the doctor wished to set the poor man's 
 broken bones, and perform other operations too 
 painful for a little girl to see, she obeyed at 
 once, and went away aft with her mother. As 
 soon as they were gone the Doctor ordered two 
 men to steady Dan's shoulders, and two others 
 to keep his legs from moving, while he set the 
 bones and bandaged them properly. But no 
 sooner had he begun operations than Dan again 
 broke into the same wild fit of raving as before, 
 and with his uninjured arm he struck fiercely at 
 the men, and bit and cried in the most dreadful 
 manner. Our poor medico was quite nonplussed, 
 and had to give up his operations. He even 
 became so agitated by Dan's violence, that he 
 sent me at once to beg Captain and Mrs. True- 
 love to allow Princess to try her powers upon the 
 wounded man. Of course, her parents gave their 
 consent, and instantly the child was again kneel- 
 ing beside Dan, and gently passing her hands 
 slowly over his forehead and face, while croon- 
 
i6o THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 ing over and over words that sounded to us like 
 prayers ! 
 
 " In a few minutes Dan became quite calm and 
 natural as before; and the Doctor without delay 
 at once proceeded to finish the bone-setting 
 business, and to administer such restoratives as 
 he deemed necessary. All the while that the 
 doctor was operating upon the injured man, we 
 knew by the intelligence in his eyes that he was 
 perfectly conscious. His state seemed to give 
 the doctor a bright idea to prove some theorem 
 or other which he had in mind. So he gently 
 asked Princess to stand back a little, and allow 
 one of Dan's messmates to take her place, as it 
 would be very handy to have one ready to 
 attend to Dan day or night. The doctor then 
 asked Bill Waters — a good chum of Dan's — to 
 take Princess's place, and soothe the man's pain 
 as he had seen Princess do. Bill never hesitated, 
 but dropped on his knees and proceeded to move 
 his hands as softly as he could — poor fellow — 
 over Dan's face. He had hardly got into posi- 
 tion when he rolled over with a tremendous 
 yell, and we perceived, to our consternation, 
 that Dan had Bill's hand in his teeth as firm as 
 a vice! The doctor made a move as if he were 
 going to take Dan by the throat to choke his 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT i6i 
 
 mouth open, but Princess was before him, 
 stroking Dan's forehead, and whispering in 
 his ear. In a moment or two he let go Bill's 
 hand, and became perfectly calm and quiet. 
 But the unfortunate Bill kept on howling until 
 the doctor crave him a gfood drink of some 
 soothing stuff, and at once dressed his hand and 
 put it in a sling, where Bill had to keep it for 
 more than a month; and after that none of us 
 tried our skill at quieting Dan. Whether the 
 doctor proved any of his learned theories I 
 don't know, but I know that he was very care- 
 ful to have Princess with him whenever he went 
 to change Dan's dressings. 
 
 " The doctor explained to us that Dan's tran- 
 quil state while under the influence of Prin- 
 cess's gentle manipulations was wholly owing 
 to ' Odic Force,' a power exercised by some 
 highly sensitive natures. And he told us a 
 heap more of this sort, all in the most beautiful 
 scientific lingo, which of course was accepted as 
 gospel truth, after the usual humble fashion of 
 sailor men regarding all spiritual matters. 
 
 M 
 
i62 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 CHAPTER HI 
 
 PRINCESS AND CHIPS 
 
 *' I WAS very young — especially in my feelings 
 — in those days. Perhaps you will think it is a 
 pity I did not remain so ! But however that may 
 be, I have learned to doubt our medicine-man's 
 explanation of the matter — as I have learned to 
 doubt many other things; and instead of be- 
 lievinof that our old doctor knew all about the 
 power which Princess possessed over Dan's 
 body and mind, I don't think he knew a bit 
 more of the matter than did old Chips, the 
 ship's carpenter! I consulted Chips about it, 
 and like inquisitive youth, asked his opinion. 
 But he only shook his wise old head, and said 
 that such matters should never be discussed be- 
 cause ' The secret things belong unto the Lord 
 our God.' 
 
 *' Chips was a very pious man, and passed more 
 than half his watch below, diligently and slowly 
 reading his Bible. He and Princess were great 
 chums, and many were the confabs which they 
 two would have while the carpenter was work- 
 ing at some quiet job or other, and Princess was 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 163 
 
 making little baskets out of the beautiful white 
 shavings which Chips artistically threw off from 
 the deliciously scented Norway pine boards he 
 was planing for boat-mending, or some such 
 thing. 
 
 '' Their talks were frequently upon spiritual 
 subjects. And as neither Princess nor Chips 
 was in the least shy of being overheard, I in 
 my position of carpenter's mate picked up a 
 good deal of their discourse, not at all to their 
 annoyance, and, I can testify, much to my en- 
 tertainment and profit. 
 
 " A subject would be started between those 
 two, somewhat in this fashion. Chips would 
 say: 
 
 '' ' My lady! ' that was how Chips always ad- 
 dressed Princess. * My lady, do you understand 
 those strange words : '* All things are possible 
 to him that believeth"?' 
 
 ''Then Princess would reply, without the least 
 hesitation, ' No, Chips, I don't understand them, 
 but I believe them ! and I think that is how our 
 Lord meant us to consider the subject. He did 
 not say '' if thou canst understand." He only said 
 " if thoucanst believe." And surely wecan believe 
 our Lord! That is how my old teacher told me 
 to read my Bible, Chips, and that is how I would 
 
i64 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 advise you to read yours. I think it is this way. 
 When my father and mother tell me things 
 which 1 do not understand, yet I believe the 
 absolute truth and goodness of those things, 
 because they have told those things to me! So 
 when I read certain verses in my Bible which 
 are beyond my comprehension, I do not wonder, 
 and question why such things were written. I 
 just say to myself, '' That is too deep for a little 
 girl! " and perhaps it is too deep for big girls, 
 and even for learned men : and maybe it was 
 only written for the guidance of angels when 
 they are sent to earth with messages, and be- 
 come puzzled by the stupidity of us all, and the 
 evil and sin in the world.' 
 
 *' Then Chips would smile in his inscrutable 
 way, and reply: 
 
 "'Ah weel. Princess! I canna improve upon 
 your lucid dissertation, and it's always a marvel 
 to me how and where you learned all your won- 
 derful knowledge and wisdom! Here am I, who 
 have been studying the Book, and a wheen o' 
 other things which are miscalled books, for more 
 than fifty years! and I sair misdoot if I have 
 learned half of the wise things that you have 
 gathered into that bonnie wee heid o' yours, in 
 a dizen short years! ' 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 165 
 
 " Princess engaged much more freely in talks 
 with Chips than with any one else on the ship — 
 excepting, of course, herparents. Partly, I think, 
 for the profound knowledge and humble faith 
 which she found in the old Scotchman, and 
 partly for the old-fashioned grace and courtesy 
 of his manner, which he never forgot when ad- 
 dressing the little lady. 
 
 * # * * # 
 
 '' Perhaps you may think that in my record of 
 Princess I am inventing an impossible sort of 
 child in manner, thought, and mode of expres- 
 sion, etc. But the fact is that I am not makincr 
 up her characteristics at all. I am merely de- 
 scribing, as clearly as I can from memory, ' Prin- 
 cess ' Truelove. That she was not as other chil- 
 dren are I am quite well aware : if she had been, 
 I should not be telling you about her. How 
 training, and surroundings, or inherited quali- 
 ties had made her different from all other chil- 
 dren I have met, I do not know. I am merely 
 speaking of Princess as I knew her, not of the 
 abstruse science of psychology. 
 
 " After this digression, I must go back to my 
 sample of the little lady's endless talks with her 
 friend the carpenter. 
 
 "'Chips!' Princess would quietly retort on 
 
i66 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 such occasions, * Chips ! you should never flat- 
 ter any one with fooHsh compliments. Firstly 
 because it is harmful to the complimenter, as 
 well as to the complimented, and secondly be- 
 cause it is nearly always more or less untrue. 
 Mind you, Chips, I do not say it is altogether 
 untrue in the present case, for I inherited things 
 which made me different from other children. 
 And my environment — that s a correct word, is 
 it not. Chips ? ' 
 
 '' ' Quite correct, my lady,' responds Chips 
 humbly. 
 
 " ' Well, I am glad of that, for I always wish 
 to use correct words when I am speaking 
 seriously ; of course it is different when one is 
 making fun, but this is not fun to-day. 
 
 *' ' My environment until I was ten years of 
 age was such as gave me ideas and thoughts: 
 but maybe " ideas " and '' thoughts " mean the 
 same. Do they. Chips ? ' 
 
 '" Yes — almost — at least they do in Scotland. 
 
 ** ' I am sorry for that, because they always 
 seemed to mean different things to me in Jersey 
 (that is the island where I come from), and 
 ''thought " always seemed tome to be something 
 tangible, a thing I could lay hold of, while 
 "idea" was only a fleeting shadow crossing 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 167 
 
 my mind like a light, summer cloud crossing 
 the sky. 
 
 " * Thinketh and thought are the same words, 
 are they not, Chips, — only one is present and the 
 other past tense ? ' 
 
 '' * Aye! ' said Chips, ' you have put it just like 
 a school mistress.' 
 
 *' ' Very well, then,' continued Princess, ' the 
 wisest man that ever lived wrote these words 
 with regard to men: '* As he thinketh in his 
 heart, so is he " ; therefore thought must be alto- 
 gether a different and a stronger thing than the 
 slight, fanciful thing we call an idea ! ' Then 
 after a pause, while she devoted her close atten- 
 tion to basket-making. Princess took up the 
 thread of her discourse. 
 
 " 'Perhaps my peculiarities and peccadilloes — 
 peccadilloes is not a very wicked word, is it. 
 Chips ? ' parenthetically queries Princess. 
 
 " ' Oh no ! ' responds Chips, ' it's no very bad." 
 
 '* I am so glad of that! for my father says I am 
 a terrible child for peccadilloes. Now I suppose 
 you would call it a peccadillo when I hid myself 
 in the boat, and saw the great whale captured ? ' 
 
 *' Even the carpenter's usually well-maintained 
 propriety was not proof against this great pro- 
 vocation, and he exploded with a short, sharp 
 
i68 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 guffaw before he could pull himself together: 
 and of course, I, being a youngster, easily moved 
 to mirth in those days, broke into a paroxysm 
 which I pretended was a severe fit of coughing, 
 and clapping my cap tight over my mouth, 
 rushed to the lee rail, and there relieved my 
 over-charged feelings. I was no sooner better, 
 than our good old doctor, passing at the mo- 
 ment, clapped me kindly on the back, saying 
 that he was sorry to see I had such a bad cough, 
 and that he would give me a good mixture to 
 drink after supper. And he did, and I drank 
 it like a good boy, as I was then ; I am not so 
 docile nowadays, alas! so much more's the pity. 
 "When I came back to my job, both Chips 
 and Princess were calm though smiling, and in a 
 little while my lady went quietly on with her talk. 
 *' * I must tell you. Chips, that I was born on 
 the Island of Jersey; and natives of that lovely 
 Channel Island have many peculiarities of their 
 own, but they are an honest, brave, kindly 
 people with it all. So no doubt it was good 
 for me that my life began on that little rock- 
 bound and sea-girt dot of land. My upbringing 
 was what you might call "promiscuous." Perhaps 
 you don't know exactly what I mean.? Well! I 
 mean that I was not trained like other children. 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 169 
 
 My mother is a very gentle person, and my 
 father in those days being very much away at 
 sea, and our domestic affairs being managed by 
 one faithful domestic, I was left pretty much to 
 *'the devices and desires of my own heart" as 
 the Prayer Book says. 
 
 " 'Our house was situated in a lovely district 
 of the Island, on the hills above Mont Orgueil 
 Castle. Not far from our house there was a fine 
 old cromlech, and it being a very retired and 
 quiet place, I often went there to pray. Now, 
 Chips, you have cromlechs in your country, 
 so you can tell me if it was wicked of me to 
 pray in a cromlech. My mother and our good 
 old servant did not seem to mind, merely, I 
 suppose, looking upon it all as childish games. 
 But I should very much like to know what you 
 think, Chips, for it has often troubled my mind 
 since.' 
 
 *' ' My lady, it all depends upon what mind 
 you worshipped with in your cromlech. If you 
 prayed there thinking that your prayers would 
 be heard because you offered them there, then I 
 should say they were not wickeder than half 
 the prayers that are offered up every Sabbath 
 day; but I fear your prayers did not go beyond 
 the Druid's stone over your head. Mind you, 
 
I70 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 my lady, I am not judging for one moment the 
 Druid's prayers, they worshipped according to 
 their lights — while we have the Light of the 
 world to direct us — and it matters not one whit 
 where we pray, but it matters very much how 
 we pray. Early in the Christian era, kings and 
 emperors, and those sort of people, frequently 
 changed great public buildings (basilicas they 
 were called) into Christian churches. Now many 
 persons are of opinion that it is wrong to make 
 any building into a church unless it has been 
 built from the foundation for that purpose, but 
 we must remember: '' Thus saith the Lord, the 
 Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my foot- 
 stool : where is the house that ye build unto 
 me ? and where is the place of my rest ? " ' 
 
 " 'Ah, Chips, I wish I knew as much as you! 
 But my education was so scrappy that it is a 
 wonder how I get along at all. Now I suppose 
 you went to splendid schools, and afterwards to 
 Oxford, or Cambridge?' Here another violent 
 paroxysm would seize Chips and me, and almost 
 bring on a fit in suppressing it, while Princess 
 calmly and sweetly proceeded. 
 
 "'While I was quite a little child I used to at- 
 tend a queer bit of a school kept by an old priest. 
 He was said to be a very learned man, but of 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 171 
 
 that I never was a judge; however, I do know 
 that Pere Latour was a very good man, and 
 used the most beautiful language, which I always 
 tried to imitate. There were usually ten or a 
 dozen girls attending the Pere's school. They 
 were just the ordinary sort of farmers'* and 
 fishermen's children; so you can imagine that 
 our teacher must have been a good manager to 
 keep a lot of half-grown girls in order, and 
 make them learn their lessons. But Pere Latour 
 — as I have said — was not only a good manager, 
 he was also a great scholar, and a good man, 
 and we all loved him as well as feared him. 
 He had only one mode of punishment (besides 
 a stern look of disapproval, which we greatly 
 dreaded) and that punishment was very dread- 
 ful and effectual. There was only once when it 
 became necessary to exercise it during all the 
 years I attended his school. And I am most 
 thankful that it was only exercised once, for it 
 nearly killed me with grief, and the Father gave 
 us all a week's holiday, as we were too depressed 
 to do anything but weep. This awful punish- 
 ment was expulsion. As I say, it was only put 
 in force once during all the years I was in the 
 school, but it was so terrible that it makes me 
 shudder yet whenever I think of it. 
 
172 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 *' 'The Pere ordered us all to stand up in our 
 places, and Martha Renaud (that was the name 
 of the girl who was expelled) to stand in front 
 of his table. Then after a short lecture — which 
 no girl who was present that day will ever forget 
 — he commanded Martha to depart, and never 
 to return ! Every girl fell upon her knees as if 
 her heart were breaking. And that was the only 
 punishment ever inflicted in Pere Latour's little 
 school. But it was so dreadful that Martha 
 ran away from home that night, and hid in a 
 French fishing boat that was lying in St. Cather- 
 ine Bay, and so made her escape to Brittany, 
 and was never heard of again ! ' 
 
 # # # # # 
 
 " I have recalled to mind these trifling inci- 
 dents of a long past day," said Kinross — while 
 I protested that they were not trifling at all, 
 but most important events — at which my old 
 friend would smile in his quiet way, and proceed. 
 
 *' Ah well! it all depends upon how you look 
 at them. Of course to me they constitute some 
 of the most highly cherished and important 
 memories of my life! But as I was going to say 
 just now when you interrupted me, I have 
 recalled these things to show you that Princess 
 was one of the uncommon sort, but altogether 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 173 
 
 a most lovable child, in spite of her half-wild 
 ways, and rather unconventional actions, besides 
 the strange power which she undoubtedly pos- 
 sessed of allaying pain by some sympathetic 
 quality in her mind and hands! It was nothing 
 less than marvellous how she managed to soothe 
 poor Dan Martin. Time after time when he got 
 utterly beyond the control of the Doctor, if little 
 Princess came along — which she did whenever 
 she was sent for by day or night — and laid her 
 hands on the much-suffering body, and soothed 
 the sorely tormented spirit, Dan would calm 
 down like a lost child that had found its mother 
 after long wandering. And then, murmuring 
 half articulate, loving, and thankful words, would 
 fall into the blessedness of unconscious sleep! 
 
 '' I must tell you that Dan Martin quite 
 recovered from his dreadful accident : and be- 
 fore he was done with the case, the Doctor 
 freely admitted that without the aid of Princess 
 his skill would have been utterly powerless to 
 pull the man through. 
 
174 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 SHADOWS 
 
 "After cruising about the south east Pacific for 
 nearly a year and falHng in with very good luck, 
 our captain decided that it was time to call at 
 Callao, and so for that celebrated port our course 
 was shaped, and in due time we anchored in the 
 old Spanish haven. Callao is by no means the 
 best harbour in the world, but it is the best 
 harbour which Peru possesses. It is a place 
 which is very subject to earthquakes, but it is 
 a place where it never rains oftener than once 
 in a hundred years or so, and even when it does 
 rain, it is merely a light shower as a rule. But 
 the unexpected happens sooner or later, and it 
 happened while we were there. 
 
 '' One afternoon, with hardly any warning, 
 rain began to fall! The Spaniards at first ran 
 about laughing and joking, but in a short time 
 they changed their tune to crying and wringing 
 their hands. As I mentioned before, the houses 
 in Callao are built like wicker baskets and nicely 
 covered with plaster, and made to look very 
 pretty both inside and out. It is capital archi- 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 175 
 
 tecture to resist earthquakes, but a very poor 
 style to resist rain. The roofs are flat, and will 
 shed or absorb the light showers, or rather 
 mists, to which they are accustomed on the 
 west coast. But that day it was rain such as no 
 living man had ever seen (although to us it only 
 seemed an extra good shower), and within an 
 hour rain and mud had done more damage to 
 beautiful household furniture than earthquakes 
 had done in a hundred years. So you see there 
 are drawbacks even in the romantic and rich 
 country of Peru. Which puts me in mind," 
 said Kinross, ''of what our old country-woman 
 said to a neebour crony, when recounting all her 
 married daughters blessings. She had cows, 
 and hens, and a bonnie hoose, etc., ' but,' added 
 the old lady, ' Meg canna thole her man, but 
 there's aye something in this warld!' 
 
 ** When we reached Callao our captain found 
 a despatch from the ship's owners directing him 
 to send his chief mate (John Maitland) home, 
 as he was required to testify in an important 
 case involving a large sum of money to the 
 firm. The captain was further directed to con- 
 sult the ship's agents in Callao, and with their 
 approval to ship in Maitland's place the most 
 suitable man obtainable. The owners stated 
 
176 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 that they personally would have preferred to 
 promote the second officer to the post of chief, 
 but as he was a very young man for such a 
 responsible position, and as he did not hold a 
 chief mate's certificate, it was advisable to ship 
 a new man altogether. So the business pro- 
 ceeded with its far-reaching consequences, as 
 all events in this life — however inconsequential 
 they may seem at the moment — proceed with 
 their certain consequence of good or evil. 
 
 " A few days afterwards a boat came along- 
 side, with a handsome and very well dressed 
 man. In a polite and easy way — but with a 
 slightly foreign accent — he asked for our 
 captain, and was soon in close confab with 
 him. 
 
 ''In the days I am telling you of, ships' com- 
 panies were much more carefully selected than 
 they are nowadays when English ships are 
 often manned with worthless trash from every 
 point of the compass. In the old days owners 
 of ships which were bound upon long voyages 
 like the Devonport^ were always extra careful 
 to select first-rate men, both with regard to 
 seamanship and character, men with first-class 
 records. Of course, upon long voyages vacancies 
 frequently occurred, when a captain had just to 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 177 
 
 pick up the best he could find. In the present 
 instance, however, the agents produced such a 
 bundle of splendid certificates that our skipper 
 thought himself most lucky to procure the 
 services of Mr. Louis Marchand. 
 
 '' After their talk, the captain and the gentle- 
 man who we supposed was our new mate 
 came forward looking at things in general, and, 
 I remember thinking, looking at us men in 
 particular. After an inspection much longer 
 than necessary — I thought — the stranger asked 
 the captain to muster the crew, saying that he 
 always liked to see the men he was going to 
 be shipmates with. When we were all mustered 
 the skipper made a little speech, introducing 
 Mr. Marchand as our future chief mate, and 
 hoping that we would obey him cheerfully. So 
 commenced my acquaintance with Mr. Louis 
 Marchand, but so it did not end. 
 
 ''After a little more looking around, and being 
 introduced to Mrs. Truelove and Princess, our 
 new officer took himself off to arrange his shore 
 affairs before taking up his new duties. 
 
 ** In a couple of weeks we completed our 
 business in Callao, shipped all necessary supplies, 
 and started upon another cruise. I learned 
 throuofh the second mate, who was a chum of 
 
 N 
 
178 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 mine, that the new mate had advised our captain 
 to try what he called *the eastern middle 
 ground,' as it was a likely position to find 
 sperm whales at that time of year — January, 
 February, and March. 
 
 *' The position Mr. Marchand recommended 
 was some three or four hundred miles to the 
 westward of the Galapagos Islands, and a 
 degree or two north and south of the line. Our 
 captain, no doubt thinking, as the agents had 
 assured him, that his new mate was a good 
 authority on all whaling lore, decided to take 
 his advice. So when we had managed to creep 
 and drift about a hundred miles clear of the 
 land — it is always slow work for a sailing ship 
 on the calm sea which extends up and down 
 the Peruvian coast — the ship's head was turned 
 north-west, and we slowly made our way to- 
 wards the Line. 
 
 ** After leaving Callao Chips again took up 
 his usual work, which had been interrupted by 
 the various affairs in port. The particular job 
 which was engaging his attention at the time I 
 refer to was a little table for Princess's state- 
 room. Chips had known beforehand — by many 
 whispered communications from Princess — of 
 this piece of artistic work that was awaiting his 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 179 
 
 deft hands: and when we were in Callao he 
 had secured some beautiful pieces of red cedar, 
 greatly to Princess's delight, who made many 
 expeditions in company with him to a timber 
 yard where various kinds of fine woods were 
 on sale, and at last they made their selections 
 and brought on board, in great triumph, several 
 beautiful pieces. 
 
 ** Chips had a nice bit of awning rigged up 
 over where he worked at his various jobs, and 
 as none of the crew were allowed to loiter 
 about when he was at work excepting the man 
 told off to assist him, and as Princess always 
 saw to it that I was the man, I had a very 
 happy time during the construction of Princess's 
 table, and many other things, during that 
 memorable voyage. And I know that I gained 
 a lot of solid information from Chips and 
 Princess upon subjects which are not often 
 heard by young men nowadays, more 's the 
 pity! 
 
 " For instance, one morning Princess seemed 
 much pre-occupied by something or other on 
 her mind, and at last she said to the carpenter — 
 in a low, awed voice, which was not at all usual 
 to her: 
 
 '''Chips! do you think that God will burn 
 
i8o THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 living men and women for ever and ever, and 
 never allow them to die ! nor for one moment 
 allow them rest or ease from their misery- 
 through all the endless ages of eternity? If you 
 believe that, I don't think it is worth while 
 going on with the table, for I will have no 
 pleasure in it, and indeed I fear I never shall 
 have pleasure in anything again! My mother 
 and I were reading a chapter this morning, as 
 we do every morning, and we read that chapter 
 where Christ said: 
 
 " ' '' It is better for thee to enter halt into life, 
 than having two feet to be cast into hell, into 
 the fire that never shall be quenched." 
 
 '' ' Do you believe that. Chips?' interrogated 
 Princess, with a shiver in her voice. ' My mother 
 believes it ! and it does not seem to hurt her 
 very much, but I cannot bear it when I think 
 of all the world, and of Martha, whom I told 
 you about! Do you really believe it. Chips?* 
 interrogated Princess again, with tearful eyes 
 and trembling voice. 
 
 " ' No! my lady,' responded Chips, in a quiet, 
 firm tone, ' I do not \ And when I come to that 
 text, I just read on, and forbear to think upon 
 or discuss what is not comprehensible — unless 
 we attribute it to a mistake of the transcribers. 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT i8t 
 
 There is another verse which refers to this 
 terrible subject, a verse which I fully under- 
 stand. It is this: 
 
 ''*''The hour is coming, in the which all 
 that are in the grave shall hear his voice; 
 and shall come forth; they that have done 
 good, unto the resurrection of life; and they 
 that have done evil, unto the resurrection of 
 damnation." My good old schoolmaster in 
 Dundee, to whose birch and Latin I sub- 
 mitted until I was thirteen years of age — when 
 I ran away to sea, poor wee fool! — always 
 told us boys, when we read this verse, that 
 ''damnation" meant "death," in contradistinc- 
 tion to the word " Life." Now Peter Wishart 
 was a very learned, as well as a very good, man, 
 and never did or said any thing that was likely 
 to mislead man, woman, or child. Therefore I 
 believe that the wicked, who refuse all good and 
 mercy so freely offered to the very worst, " shall 
 come forth to the resurrection of ' Death.' " A 
 woeful doom ! but which we know must he just, 
 as well as merciful — for God cannot be other- 
 wise. 
 
 " * At many times our Lord made this awful 
 matter very clear. For instance, in this text: 
 *' Verily, verily, I say unto you, if a man keep my 
 
i82 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 saying, he shall never see death." Now, when our 
 Lord said these words, he knew perfectly well 
 that all men must die — that is, as we understand 
 death. But what he must have meant was that 
 those who did not believe Him would fall into 
 that eternal death which Adam, by his dis- 
 obedience, admitted into this once happy, but 
 now sorrowful, world.' ^ 
 
 *' * Oh, thank you so much, Chips ! You have 
 taken a great pain off my mind. I shall continue 
 to pray for the wicked — as I have always done, 
 ever since Martha was expelled — but you have 
 now taught me that God is of infinite mercy, as 
 well as infinite justice.' Princess dried her eyes, 
 and, with a half smile, continued: * We can now 
 go on with the table. Chips ! I feel my interest 
 and love for it coming back.' And we did go 
 on, and a very beautiful table it turned out to 
 be. And the day we fitted it into Princess's 
 room all hands had plum duff, and thanked 
 Princess and Chips properly. 
 
 '' And so cleared our little lady's trouble of 
 mind for that day. But there were always 
 
 ^ I think it would be profitable for us all were we to act 
 as the noble Bereans acted— namely, "received the word 
 with all readiness of mind, and searched the Scriptures 
 daily, whether those things were so." 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 183 
 
 questions cropping up on all sorts of subjects, 
 and never a problem seemed too deep or in- 
 tricate for wise old Chips to unravel. 
 
 " We slowly worked our way northward in 
 the most delightful weather. There is a great 
 Antarctic current sweeping up from the south 
 on the Peruvian coast, which gives a delicious 
 coolness to the air, very grateful in those low 
 latitudes. 
 
 '' The fine weather was taken advantage of 
 to give the ship a general overhaul: and un- 
 fortunately — as I thought — the various jobs to 
 be attended to needed all hands, the carpenter 
 included. So there were few chances for Princess 
 and Chips to have a quiet time for exchanging 
 views on all manner of topics, much to their own 
 satisfaction, and my delight and edification. 
 
 '' One day, however, the carpenter had been 
 set to re-fitting the harpoon poles, which had 
 become loose by shrinking in the long spell of 
 warm dry weather. I was told off to work with 
 him, and we had not long established ourselves 
 on the topgallant forecastle, when Princess 
 made her way through the bustle on the main 
 deck, and joined us. The little lady was unusu- 
 ally quiet that morning, merely saying, ' Good 
 morning. Chips ! Good morning, David ! ' and 
 
i84 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 then sitting down ofi a coil of rope in the shade 
 of the fore-stay-sail. ' Good morning, my lady ! ' 
 said Chips, ' is there anything the matter this 
 beautiful morning, my lady? ' 
 
 '"Yes, there is!' returned Princess, in a 
 quiet, sad tone, ''something very much the 
 matter, and if I can put my thoughts into words, 
 I will try to tell you what it is.' 
 
 " Then she sat quite still for awhile, watching 
 Chips as he shaved a pole into a fine sharp 
 point, trying it every few minutes to see how it 
 fitted into the harpoon. At last the little lady 
 broke her unusual silence: 
 
 "'Chips! Do you believe this: "As he 
 thinketh in his heart, so is he "? ' 
 
 " ' Yes I I do believe it, my lady. I believe 
 that the thoughts of the heart are the man ! ' 
 
 " At this Princess looked more distressed than 
 I ever saw her before, and after a while she said : 
 ' I once read in a book that it is impossible to 
 deceive a do^- or a c/nld. I did not pay much 
 attention to this when I read it, for it is many 
 years ago, and I was only a little child, but I 
 often think of it now when I am growing old! 
 I will be twelve years of age on the twenty-first 
 of next month if I live till then.' 
 
 " Chips glanced at the child as she said this, 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 185 
 
 and then worked hard at a lance-pole, but said 
 never a word. Princess came a bit closer to 
 Chips and me, sat down on a little tool-chest in 
 which he kept his small tools, and, quietly look- 
 ing at Chips, went on with her further interro- 
 
 gations. 
 
 " ' Now I should like very much to have your 
 opinion of what I read — "that you cannot de- 
 ceive a dog or a child'' \ Please give me your 
 serious attention, Chips, for it is a very serious 
 question.' 
 
 '' Chips stopped planing, and, looking quite 
 solemnly into the little lady's eyes, said : 
 
 '* * I believe exactly what you read, my lady. 
 No one can deceive a dog or a child, because 
 naturally there is no deception in either of these 
 two creatures, therefore they only see the truth. 
 Of course, I mean those which have not been 
 spoiled by bad usage.' 
 
 '' ' Then,' said Princess, almost in a whisper, 
 and leaning towards us, ' I want to warn you 
 and David regarding Mr. Marchand! He is an 
 evil man, and intends things; what they are I 
 do not know, but that he intends evil things, I 
 know! And my mother's little King Charles, 
 *' Pet," he knows also, for he growls at Mr. 
 Marchand whenever he sees the man, and you 
 
i86 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 know how good the little dog is, and that he 
 loves every man on the ship excepting this evil 
 one.' 
 
 " Without another word Princess left us, and 
 went away aft, picking her way along the decks 
 lumbered up with all kinds of whaling gear, 
 sails, ropes, and odds and ends of all sorts. As 
 she was climbing over some extra high piles of 
 rope, Mr. Marchand held out his hand to help 
 her, but Princess, taking not the slightest notice 
 of the proffered assistance, leaped lightly past 
 the obstruction, and left him with a very ugly 
 scowl on his face, although usually he was more 
 given to smiling than to frowning. But as I 
 looked at him. Princess's verse came into my 
 mind, * as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.' 
 And that was not the last time his evil face re- 
 called the text. 
 
 :5^ # # # # 
 
 '' We sighted whales several times on our way 
 north, but we were not lucky enough to take 
 any until we sighted the Galapagos Islands; 
 then we fell in with large schools, and secured 
 two big ones, which turned out ten tons apiece 
 of the finest oil, besides a large quantity of sper- 
 maceti — a very valuable commodity obtained 
 from the whale's head {' case,' whalemen call it). 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 187 
 
 ** We caught our fish to the westward of the 
 Galapagos, with the high peaks of the Islands 
 dipping. And as the whales were travelling 
 north-west, we also shaped our course that way, 
 hoping to keep in touch with them and pick up 
 a few more rich prizes. And we did manage to 
 secure three more, before the last of the great 
 schools finally disappeared. So we did very 
 well in the whaling line during the first few 
 months after leaving Callao, but we did very 
 poorly from a sociable point of view. In fact, 
 after we left Callao there seemed to be a 
 shadow of some sinister portent hanging over 
 the ship both fore and aft. There were fewer 
 songs of an evening on the forecastle head, and 
 even the few that were sung were of the sad 
 sort, and rarely of those kinds with a rousing 
 chorus which are as a rule the most welcome to 
 seamen. 
 
 *' Princess and her mother still kept up their 
 habit of songs and studies on the little piano in 
 the cabin, but they also seemed to me much less 
 joyous than formerly. Even Captain Truelove, 
 although usually a jolly, cheerful man, who 
 wished his ships company to be happy and 
 contented, fell into a gloomy sort of habit, and 
 would pass long spells hanging over the rail, 
 
i88 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 speaking to no one, and taking little interest in 
 the ship's course, the wind, scanning the horizon 
 for a whale's spout, or any one of the many- 
 things which used to engage his attention. 
 
 ** The change was very noticeable in Princess. 
 She completely gave up all her old innocent 
 pranks. Never went aloft, or stood a trick at 
 the wheel — a thing she could do as well as any 
 man on the ship, if there was not too stiff a 
 breeze. In fact, the little lady seemed quite 
 another sort of girl from the cheerful lass whom 
 we all loved! At this time she did not favour 
 Chips and me with much of her company, and 
 when she did come our way, she would sit for 
 half an hour at a time without saying a word, 
 and hardly taking the slightest interest in our 
 work; whereas formerly she never ceased asking 
 Chips all manner of questions about whatever 
 job we had on hand, until she would be as 
 thoroughly posted about the matter as we were 
 ourselves. 
 
 '' Sometimes Chips would try to arouse her 
 old interest in our work, or in books. Chips 
 was an exceedingly well-read man, first and 
 foremost in the Bible, and secondly in history, 
 geography, and all sorts of solid literature. And 
 he had that indispensable qualification of a well- 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 189 
 
 read man, a retentive memory. Chips told me 
 how he acquired this invaluable possession. He 
 said that when he was a wee fellow he used to 
 watch his father take whichever book he wished 
 to read from one of the shelves in the little 
 sitting-room in the old cottage in Dundee. And 
 when he had found and read what he wished, 
 he always laid the book carefully back in its 
 place. From this act of his father's the boy 
 formed the notion that he also had some shelves, 
 but they were in his head, and ever after, when 
 he read something which he wished to remember, 
 he laid it upon one of his mental shelves. And 
 he assured me that from this quaint conceit he 
 built up his wonderfully tenacious memory. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE END OF THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 " We cruised west of the Islands for two or 
 three months, and continued to have fairly good 
 luck, barring a few accidents. One mishap that 
 happened at that time was the smashing to 
 pieces of the mate's boat by a particularly 
 vicious whale, some of the crew being injured a 
 
I90 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 little, and the mate having his arm so badly 
 hurt that he had to keep it in a sling, and so was 
 obliged to give up boat duty. It therefore 
 followed that the captain took to going in 
 chase of whales himself, and leaving the mate 
 in charge of the ship. In this way came the 
 opportunity which always comes sooner or later 
 both for evil and for good in this strangely 
 arranged — or rather disarranged — world of joy 
 and sorrow, of angels and fiends who are 
 ceaselessly contending in a fierce struggle of 
 life and death, and the prizes they are fighting 
 for are the souls of men! 
 
 ''After we had been in the north between 
 three and four months, we had a spell of the 
 queerest weather I ever encountered. There 
 was hardly any wind, but there was a strange 
 sort of fog you could feel with your hands, as 
 well as see with your eyes. Sometimes bright 
 sunbeams would burst out for a few hours, and 
 then down would come the clammy fog again. 
 And withal the glass kept persistently down 
 about twenty-eight. It was the sort of weather 
 that sailors call ' foxy,' which means that it is 
 impossible to foretell what to expect next. 
 
 ''On the third day of this disagreeable weather 
 we ran into a great school of whales. I never 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 191 
 
 experienced such a strange condition of whale- 
 life before or since during all my long sea life. 
 
 " All around us, wherever we could get a 
 glimpse of the water as the thick clammy fog 
 would lift for a moment, the sea was simply 
 alive with whales! What with the noise of 
 spouting, slapping of flukes, and clashing of 
 jaws, in anger or sport, it was something like 
 the confused jumble of a busy street at a little 
 distance. Every few minutes a great monster 
 would rub along the ship's side, making the 
 stout old craft shiver! Evidently the whales 
 mistook us for a good rock against which to 
 rub off their barnacles — a process which whales 
 are clever enough to adopt on coasts where the 
 water is deep, and the rocks suitable for their 
 purpose. 
 
 "• This curious entertainment continued for a 
 couple of days, while the captain and crew 
 fretted and fumed at the splendid opportunities 
 that we were forced to forgo, on account of the 
 strange conditions of weather; it being alto- 
 gether too dangerous for boats to venture into 
 the clammy darkness, where flag signals would 
 be utterly useless, and the only sound signals 
 we possessed were our voices, and the ship's 
 bell. 
 
192 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 " After three days of it the fog lifted as sud- 
 denly as it had fallen, and a light breeze came up 
 from the south-west. Whales were still in sight, 
 but they had taken themselves off to a safe 
 distance, having found out, I suppose, that our 
 ship was not a solid rock, and so, suspecting 
 danger, had passed the word around, and with- 
 drawn to a safe distance. The whales were 
 dead to windward, some four or five miles 
 away, but the wind was light, and the order 
 being given to lower away, we were soon in a 
 bustle of preparation getting ready to go in 
 chase. 
 
 '* All our four boats were lowered, the captain 
 going in his own, and the second, third, and 
 fourth mates taking their respective boats. Of 
 course the mate with his disabled arm could 
 not take charge of a boat, so he was left in 
 charge of the ship, with eleven hands. But of 
 these eleven one was the carpenter, who had 
 long ceased going aloft, one was the steward, 
 another the cook, and still another was the old 
 doctor, who was quite useless as far as ship's 
 work was concerned, however clever he might 
 be — with Princess's assistance — at splicing Dan's 
 bones. The rest were even younger lads than 
 myself, and entered on the ship's books as ap- 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 193 
 
 prentices, and in feelings and character mere 
 boys. 
 
 "It was getting rather late in the afternoon 
 when the four boats got away on the chase, 
 two drawing away almost due south, and two 
 going a little more westerly. Just before the 
 captain jumped on the rail to swing himself into 
 the boat, Princess caught his arm, and as I 
 stood ready with the fall in my hand to lower 
 away at the word of command, I heard every 
 word she said. 
 
 " ' Don't go, father! There is a great trouble 
 at my heart! Don't leave the ship to-day! There 
 is sorrow and evil near — don't go away!" 
 
 *' 'Come, come, my lass! what is the matter? 
 My brave girl, I must get a whale to-day, and 
 you must keep the ship for me! My brave 
 Princess must not show the white feather. 
 Good-bye, my pet! ' and he swung himself into 
 the boat, and gave the order, ' Lower away 
 handsomely ! ' 
 
 '' Princess turned away aft, sobbing convul- 
 sively! It was the first time I ever saw the 
 brave little girl break down so completely, and 
 this, together with the words I had just heard, 
 filled my heart with a strange awe and fore- 
 boding of evil. 
 
 o 
 
194 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 *' We lay quietly with the main-top-sail aback, 
 until the boats were two or three miles away. 
 Then the mate ordered me to put the helm 
 hard-up, and as I did so, he set the others to 
 haul round the main-yard, and the breeze being 
 very light, five or six boys with the carpenter 
 were just able to do this, and it was done none 
 too soon. For we had scarcely got the ship 
 before the wind when a sudden tropical squall 
 of wind and rain struck us so fiercely that every 
 stitch of canvas, and every rope and spar, 
 creaked and strained as though they were at 
 the snapping point. But it soon moderated, the 
 sky cleared, and the wind dropped again to a 
 light sou'-west breeze which sent the ship along 
 at five or six knots. Of course the captain had 
 reduced our canvas before he left, knowing 
 that the ship would only be manageable under 
 small sail while all the crew were away, and 
 only the boys and two or three capable men 
 left to manage the sails. We had the fore, the 
 main-top-sails, spanker, and jib set, each sail 
 with a single reef, for safety in case of squalls. 
 *' As the rattle and confusion of the squall 
 subsided, I had spare time to look about me 
 and examine things a bit. I fully expected the 
 mate to order all hands to clap on to the braces, 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 195 
 
 preparatory to ordering me to put the wheel to 
 port, and so bring the ship to the wind, and 
 work slowly towards the boats. But he gave 
 no such order, and when I ventured to ask him 
 if I should put the wheel over, he only growled 
 that I had better keep my suggestions to myself, 
 and keep the ship's head dead before the wind 
 if I did not want to capsize her! 
 
 " I could not understand the fellow at all. It 
 even crossed my foolish young mind that the 
 man had suddenly gone mad; and another 
 thing which doubly alarmed me was the fact 
 that I saw he had a couple of revolvers in 
 a belt under his coat! So you may be sure 
 that I kept very quiet, as the fellow ordered 
 me. Only once, when I got a chance, I made a 
 furtive signal to Chips, whom I saw speaking to 
 Princess near the mizzen-rigging. In a little 
 while they both turned aft, but before they 
 reached me, Mr. Marchand stopped the carpen- 
 ter, directing him to attend to his duties forward, 
 and then telling Princess to keep with her mother 
 in the cabin, as it was dangerous for her to be 
 on deck in such squally weather. 
 
 "■ It was a strange situation! The strangest I 
 have ever experienced during a wide wandering 
 and adventurous life. The sea perfectly calm. 
 
196 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 the sky clear, and a gentle breeze sending the 
 ship along hvQ or six knots an hour, and the 
 officer in charge ordering me to keep the ship's 
 head directly away from where we knew our 
 boats were, although by this time they were 
 out of sight from the deck — and the officer 
 never sending a man aloft to ascertain where 
 our boats and shipmates were; in fact, coolly 
 sailing away from them ! Then — what seemed 
 to my boyish mind another outrage — ordering 
 our respected old carpenter off the poop as if 
 he were a drunken swab who had no right there, 
 when as a matter of fact Chips was the most 
 trustworthy man on the ship, and in the course 
 of his duty had a right to go anywhere fore or 
 aft, and beautiful Princess — who had the run 
 of everywhere high and low, and who was 
 always treated with the greatest respect and 
 consideration by every soul on board — ordered 
 to her cabin as though she were an irresponsible, 
 foolish child! 
 
 '* But Mr. Marchand made a blunder when 
 he attempted to command our Princess, and he 
 presently heard some plain opinions of himself, 
 and a warning of the dire doom which the child 
 declared was approaching. 
 
 " ' Mr. Marchand! ' said Princess, looking the 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 197 
 
 mate steadily in the eyes, and never moving a 
 step at his insulting command. 
 
 " ' Mr. Marchand! you are in command of this 
 ship at the present moment, but you are not in 
 command of me! and I warn you — before it is 
 too late — that I know what you are trying to do. 
 You are trying to run away with the ship, and 
 leaving my father and his men to perish ! I have 
 long known you to be a wicked man, but I did 
 not know that you were cruel enough to do this 
 dreadful thing/ 
 
 Here the little lady's eyes filled with tears, 
 her lips quivered, and I thought she would 
 quite break down, but she recovered herself in 
 a few moments, and never blinking a jot before 
 the mate's fierce, savage stare, she calmly pro- 
 ceeded with her awful accusation and warning! 
 
 "'Mr. Marchand! There are two courses 
 open for you. Bring the ship to the wind — brace 
 the yards sharp up, go back and save twenty- 
 four men from a miserable death. If you do this 
 I promise you — as I hope for mercy — never to 
 speak to my father on this subject. The other 
 course is for you to go on your own wicked way : 
 but that way is to your woeful doom — eternal 
 death ! ' 
 
 " Princess turned away with a wonderfully dig- 
 
198 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 nified gesture, as though she were truly a born 
 princess, or rather a prophetess, and not the 
 wild little girl of twelve years of age, which no 
 doubt Mr. Marchand thought her to be. 
 
 '' The mate said never a word, but, merely 
 scowling a little more than before, ordered me 
 to change the ship's course half a point, which I 
 think was only to appear calmer than he really 
 was in his black heart. 
 
 '' You may wonder why twelve hands, even 
 though most of them were mere boys, allowed a 
 single man to leave their shipmates to a miser- 
 able fate, without at least making an effort to 
 frustrate his evil intentions. But you have to 
 take one or two things into consideration. 
 Firstly, it has always been considered a dreadful 
 crime for a crew to rise upon their officer under 
 almost any circumstances, and it was thought 
 even a greater crime in former years than now. 
 Besides this dread of future consequences, the 
 man we had to deal with was armed with two 
 revolvers ostentatiously displayed in his belt, 
 and we knew quite well that there was not 
 another gun of any kind in the ship. Another 
 point against us was the fact that our mate was 
 a powerful man in full possession of all his facul- 
 ties — for the fellow had taken his arm out of the 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 199 
 
 sling, and we all suspected the hurt arm had 
 only been a ruse, and that he had merely been 
 playing possum for his own rascally ends. 
 
 '' Chips was the only man who could have led 
 us in a revolt, and he was past the fighting age 
 and for the moment advocated caution : thinking 
 that Marchand — villain though we all knew him 
 to be — had some plan in his mind of rounding 
 up the boats in some fashion we did not compre- 
 hend. Besides, as Chips said, the mate was the 
 only man left who understood navigation, and if 
 we did overpower him, and get possession of the 
 ship, it would be ten chances to one that we ever 
 picked up the boats, as the mate had changed the 
 ship's course several times since we lost sight 
 of them, no doubt with a view of confusing all 
 hands. 
 
 '' So the time for action passed. I saw the 
 mate talkino^ to Mrs. Truelove, no doubt tellino- 
 her he was doing all in his power to find the 
 missing boats, and, I suppose, she half believing 
 him, poor woman. He never dared to speak to 
 clear-minded Princess again, and gave her a 
 wide berth whenever she was on deck. 
 
 " On the third day of this state of things, the 
 wind suddenly dropped, and we lay becalmed 
 for several hours, the sails flapping lazily as the 
 
200 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 ship rolled on the long westerly swell, which 
 kept on increasing. This long rolling swell, with 
 which all sailors in those seas are more or less 
 familiar, originates in the China Sea, and travels 
 across the Pacific until it exhausts its energy on 
 the coasts of America. Of course it is caused by 
 storms, or rather hurricanes, in the far west. 
 These wild storms sometimes blow home — as 
 sailors say — but generally after leaving the hur- 
 ricane-infested China Sea, it is only the harm- 
 less swell which reaches the Pacific Islands and 
 the American coast. But sometimes the storm 
 follows the sea, and this was one of thei"<9;;^^/^;;^^^! 
 Slowly at first, and then swifter and denser 
 the hazy mist, which precedes dirty weather in 
 the tropics, came rolling up from the westward : 
 and as our mate evidently expected a bad blow, 
 he ordered in a spanker, and set about taking 
 two reefs in the fore and main-top-sails. All of 
 which were easy enough jobs for us in the almost 
 dead calm. But we were none too soon, for we 
 had hardly completed reefing the heavy sails, 
 and hoisting the top-sail yards into place again 
 when the first of the storm struck us so fiercely 
 that if we had not shortened sail as expeditiously 
 as we had done, the masts would have been 
 taken out of the ship, or she would have been 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 201 
 
 knocked on her beam-ends, and probably sent 
 to the bottom. 
 
 '' But the end was not to be yet. In the nick 
 of time we got the ship's head dead before the 
 gale, and then, with her small show of canvas, 
 she went comfortably enough. 
 
 " Although we knew by this time that the mate 
 was a murderer and a pirate, yet we could not 
 but admire his clever seamanship. Not a motion 
 of the ship, or the slightest change of wind or 
 sea escaped his notice. And although even his 
 callous mind must have been in a turmoil of fear 
 and anxiety, yet not the merest trifle on board 
 escaped his instant observation. 
 
 " During our three days' run before that gale, 
 Marchand hardly slept a wink. When he did go 
 to his state-room for a little while, we knew he 
 locked his door, and at such times was our only 
 chance of securing the man. But it would have 
 taken braver men than we were to tamper with 
 that door, and the desperate man behind it, 
 armed with two deadly revolvers, and no doubt 
 plenty of ammunition. As I said, he never went 
 often or stayed long in his room — and those 
 were the only few minutes he could have slept 
 — and it was perfectly astonishing how little 
 sleep he must have had during those last days, 
 
202 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 and yet he was as bright and alert as the young- 
 est boy on the ship. 
 
 ** I know now, when I reflect upon that terrible 
 adventure, that Marchand must have had some 
 well-defined plans arranged before ever he 
 shipped with us. What these plans were will, I 
 suppose, remain one of the unsolved mysteries of 
 the sea. I have no doubt he had confederates 
 somewhere on the coast, or on the Galapagos 
 Islands, but of that I never learned a whisper. 
 
 ** We fled before the storm for three days, 
 with nights as black as pitch, and days almost 
 as dark. Of course we could get no sights, and 
 could only guess roughly at our whereabouts 
 while driving on before the gale like a lost sea- 
 gull with bedraggled wings. Some of our sails 
 had broken loose from the gaskets and there 
 only remained fluttering fragments of canvas 
 scattered along the bolt-ropes — like little flags 
 of distress, I remember thinking! 
 
 " During that strange time, I cannot recall to 
 mind whether we young fellows held any consul- 
 tations, or attempted to form any plans of action. 
 It seems to me now, when I reflect upon it, that 
 our immature minds were so completely dazed 
 by the tragedy and awful wickedness of the 
 crime in which we were unwittingly involved, 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 203 
 
 that our brains were unable to form proper 
 ideas, and we only acted mechanically, as poor 
 dumb things perform certain tasks without in 
 the least realizing their meaning or result. Even 
 Chips — when I got him in the shelter of the 
 galley where we were clear of the mate's sharp 
 eyes for a few moments — seemed quite unable to 
 give me any advice or direction as to our future 
 conduct. His one admonition was, ' Pray with- 
 out ceasing — in your heart!' Then he added, 
 laying his hand on my arm, ' The end is near 
 at hand.' 
 
 *' These were the last words I ever heard my 
 old friend speak, but I saw him once again, 
 thank God! 
 
 " The night following our third miserable day, 
 the wind had dropped a bit, though it still blew 
 a gale, and never a star broke through the black 
 sky to afford us a gleam of hope for fair weather 
 so that we might be enabled to find our position 
 even approximately. We knew that we must be 
 in the neighbourhood of the Galapagos, but 
 whether they were north or south, or dead ahead, 
 no man knew for certain. Under such circum- 
 stances a judicious man would have hove-to, 
 even if it were risky to bring the ship round 
 in such an awful sea and tearing wind. But 
 
204 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 Marchand was not a judicious man now, what- 
 ever he had been in some past time, and he never 
 changed the course one jot — and the good ship 
 drove on to her doom, and each one of us to his 
 own place ! 
 
 ''About midnight the gloom became an in- 
 tenser blackness, if that were possible, and I 
 knew that we were overshadowed by some ter- 
 rible thing, more tangible than the darkness of 
 the storm. 
 
 " I have never lived out of sight and sound of 
 the sea since babyhood. All my ancestors were 
 more familiar with the sea than with the land. 
 So I may say I was bred and born of the sea. 
 I know its voice in cries of rage and fight, as 
 well as in its whispers of love and peace: it has 
 no secret sound or motion I do not under- 
 stand. 
 
 " Thus when we passed from the gloom of the 
 storm into utter blackness, and the fierce wind 
 almost lifted me from the deck in its rush 
 upward, I knew that we had run under great 
 overhanging cliffs. These facts flashed instinct- 
 ively through my mind, but before I had time 
 to act, or even to think connectedly — with a 
 sound as though the overhanging darkness fell 
 with a crash of doom upon us, our great, stout 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 205 
 
 ship was gone — like a child's toy in the roar 
 and rush of Niagara! 
 
 '* On that sheer rockbound coast where we 
 struck, the ship crashed her bows in up to the 
 fore-mast, and went Hke a stone, many a long 
 fathom down. I was caught on a column of 
 water (that rushed upward like a water-spout 
 from the sinking ship) and thrown high on the 
 upper ledge of the cliff. 
 
 '' As I clung to the rock, half dead, but with 
 the instinct of self-preservation which never 
 leaves a man while his reason remains, I felt 
 something move under my hands, and a horror 
 seized me lest some evil creature of the land 
 should take the life which the sea had spared. 
 Ere I had time to withdraw my hands, they 
 were caught and held fast by little fingers which 
 I knew full well, although in the darkness I 
 could not see a stime. 
 
 *'* David!' whispered the voice in my ear, 
 'are we dead! and where is mother? She was 
 holding my hand when the great sea swallowed 
 us up. Speak to me, David, if you can, or shall 
 I ask God .^ ' I smoothed back the tangled hair 
 from her face, and told the child that she must 
 keep hold of me, and that we must be ready to 
 cling to the rock if the waves came near us 
 
2o6 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 again : we could do nothing more to save our- 
 selves, or others, until daydawn. 
 
 "In that latitude — just under the Line — we 
 did not suffer much from the cold, and although 
 our clothing was both torn and wringing wet, 
 we did not have the additional misery of intense 
 cold — as so many shipwrecked people have to 
 endure — or Princess and I should have perished 
 that night. But even in that mild climate the 
 child soon began to shiver in the cool air toward 
 morning. Fortunately I had on my oil-skin 
 coat when I was cast on the rocks, and although 
 it was pretty well tattered, I wrapped her up in 
 its fragments, and held her little body in my 
 arms, and thanked God in my heart when she 
 whispered, ' David, I am quite warm ! ' and pre- 
 sently I heard the sweet, low voice again. 
 
 '* * Dear Lord! I thank you for David! And, 
 Lord — take care of mother and father — and all 
 the others! I cannot at this moment remember 
 all their names, but You know they are all good 
 men — especially Chips! Amen.' 
 
 " The sea did not reach us again. The up- 
 rush which threw us on to the top of the cliff, 
 was caused, I think, by the inrush of the crash- 
 ing waves over the sinking ship. That the sea 
 did swallow every atom of the vessel and all it 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 207 
 
 contained is certain, for never a vestige of ship, 
 crew, or cargo, was found on the Islands, or on 
 the American coast. 
 
 " I learned afterwards that it is believed there 
 is an under-current sweeping past the western 
 Galapagos — that is where our ship foundered — 
 which carries everything that comes within 
 its influence away out into the north-west 
 Pacific. 
 
 " Poor little Princess fell sound asleep, and I 
 sat quite still hour after hour, until the eastern 
 sky lighted up with a pale yellow streak; and 
 then with the quick methods of the tropics, the 
 whole east flamed into crimson glory, and that 
 terrible night was past! 
 
 " I was most thankful to find that neither 
 Princess nor I were cut or bruised by the awful 
 experiences of the night. On looking over the 
 edge of the cliff, I judged that we were eighty 
 or a hundred feet above the sea. The storm 
 had completely ceased, and the sea, like an 
 exhausted monster, slowly lapped and rolled on 
 the glistening rocks far below us, as if laughing 
 at the cruel work it had done! Not a scrap of 
 ship, sails, spars, or cargo, or, alas! mortal freight, 
 was to be seen. And as I thought then, and 
 proved afterwards. Princess and I were all that 
 
2o8 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 remained of the stout old ship Devonport, her 
 cargo, and company! 
 
 ''Although both of us were sound of limb, 
 yet we were stiff and benumbed when we stood 
 up. It was fortunate that we had not attempted 
 to stir in the darkness. We had been thrown 
 upon a narrow ledge only a few feet wide, and 
 on three sides of us the cliff went sheer down 
 to the sea. On the fourth side — which was the 
 land side, of course — there was a narrow rocky 
 way. 
 
 '' Holding Princess's hand, for I was afraid 
 that she might become giddy looking down 
 those terrifying cliffs, I led her slowly towards 
 the land which stretched before us. Perhaps 
 you may wonder why I felt anxious for the 
 child's safety, when I have often told you how 
 fearless she was, and could go aloft without 
 a tremor, gaily laughing back to the sailors 
 whom she could always beat in a race to the 
 main-top. But that night's dreadful catastrophe 
 had shaken Princess to the heart. And even I, 
 stout youth as I was, trembled like an aged man 
 with shattered nerves and feeble gait. 
 
 '' We soon got clear of the rocky cliffs, and 
 found ourselves confronted with forests — I can 
 give them no other designation, they grew so 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 209 
 
 great and high — of prickly pear. It is very 
 astonishing how thankful we are in some great 
 crisis for things which in ordinary times we ac- 
 cept as mere matters of course. When the 
 good God cast Princess and me on the cliff, if 
 He had not saved our shoes from being torn off 
 our feet, we would now have been in a miserable 
 plight, and utterly unable to seek safety. I had 
 had much experience of cactus in Peru, and 
 learned that woe betides the most careful tra- 
 veller who dares to approach those terrible 
 needle-protected plants with unshod feet. 
 
 " By carefully exploring along the edge of 
 the prickly pear forest, we reached the highest 
 land thereabout. Here we found an old ruin 
 of considerable size, which I judged by its 
 shape and general appearance must have been 
 a church. All woodwork had long since dis- 
 appeared, but the stone Altar still stood in 
 place. And clambering in through cracked 
 walls and broken roof, hung great festoons of 
 gorgeous white clematis. 
 
 " After resting in the old ruin, and thankfully 
 receiving its lesson of peace and beauty, we 
 cautiously made our way along a curious path, 
 which did not seem to be a path for human feet, 
 but rather for creatures of another kind alto- 
 
2IO THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 gether. And before we proceeded far I solved 
 the problem — or rather it was solved for me — 
 by one of those strange antediluvian creatures 
 after which the Spaniards named the Islands — 
 Galapagos — the euphonious Spanish name of 
 the tortoise. 
 
 '' As Princess and I almost crept along (we 
 had to stoop so low to avoid the cruel cactus) 
 we met one of the ghastly monsters plodding 
 his weary — tortoises always look weary — way 
 along. It was of immense size, one of the sort, 
 as I learned afterwards, weighing about the 
 same as a medium-sized ox. 
 
 '' The thing did not take the least notice of 
 us, but came steadily along with a sad pre- 
 occupied expression on its funny old face, may- 
 be thinking of friends he had lost about the 
 time of the Flood. It is known for a fact that 
 galapagos live to an extraordinary age on their 
 islands; no one knows exactly how long, but it 
 is certainly hundreds of years. 
 
 " As the monster evidently intended to keep 
 possession of the path we of necessity had to 
 make room for him. It being impossible for us 
 to step aside into the dense mass of cactus 
 needles (although it would have been an easy 
 and safe thing for him to do with his coat of 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 
 
 21 I 
 
 mail that would have turned a rifle-bullet), the 
 only course left open for us was hastily to 
 retreat along the path back to the ruin, and 
 wait until the strange beast passed. 
 
 " I had been so intently watching the galapago, 
 that I did not notice that Princess was nearly 
 collapsing with terror. But when the strange 
 monster disappeared, and I had turned my 
 whole attention to the child, I found to my 
 consternation that she was speechless, and 
 shaking with terror. I rubbed her hands to 
 restore circulation, saying some reassuring words, 
 and she slowly recovered, greatly to my relief. 
 The first words she said in an awed whisper 
 were, while she grasped my hands, and looked 
 with horror in my face: 
 
 "'Was it Satan, David?' Then I realized 
 what I ought to have seen sooner; namely, 
 that the poor child had nearly died of sheer 
 fright at the monstrous thing we had en- 
 countered. 
 
 '* I had seen several of the galapagos on 
 board of a schooner at Callao ; therefore I was 
 not so utterly shocked as Princess had been 
 that morning at sight of the ungainly horror, 
 which — to her — did not seem of this world at 
 all. However, she slowly recovered her usual 
 
212 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 sensible demeanour as I kept on telling her 
 about these curious creatures, and explaining 
 that they are quite harmless, and are only- 
 found of such immense size in the Galapagos 
 Islands, where I presumed we now were. 
 
 *' After a while Princess recovered sufficiently 
 to start again on our quest for human beings. 
 But before we left the silent old ruin she 
 clasped her little hands together, and, looking 
 up through the vines and broken arches of the 
 roof, said quite distinctly — as Princess always 
 did when she addressed God, just as if she 
 were speaking to some one visibly present, 
 which I verily believe was the truth in her case : 
 
 *' ' Dear Lord! I thank You that the terrible 
 beast which David and I met in the path just 
 now is only one of Your innocent, funny 
 creatures, not Satan as I supposed and became 
 so dreadfully terrified! Please forgive my fool- 
 ishness. Dear Lord! Amen.' 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE VISION 
 
 " After some careful exploration through the 
 cactus forest — this is quite a correct name, for 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 213 
 
 it was literally a forest — we came upon a clear 
 space of perhaps two or three acres. This I 
 found was enclosed by a roughly built stone 
 wall, and I remember thinking at the moment 
 that the builder had not far to go for his material 
 in that region of rocks. But although rocks 
 predominated, yet what soil there was must 
 have been good, for sweet potatoes, beans, 
 Indian corn, and many other vegetables, besides 
 oranges, and other fine fruit trees, grew and 
 flourished luxuriantly. 
 
 '' On a rising ground which afforded a good 
 position to keep watch over the plantation, there 
 stood a little cottage, ' rancho,' as the Spaniards 
 call it. When we came near this abode of human 
 beings — and very thankful we were, for by this 
 time we were nearly perishing with huno-er and 
 fatigue — a dog discovered us, rushed out bark- 
 ing, and eyeing us suspiciously. This brought 
 a woman, then a man, and then two children to 
 the door, where they all stood apparently struck 
 dumb with amazement at sight of us. And 
 no wonder they were dumbfounded, for, as I 
 learned afterwards, we were the only strano-ers 
 the man and woman had seen in many years, 
 and the very first that the children had ever 
 seen! Therefore we were a wonderful, in fact, 
 
214 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 a sort of uncanny, visitation to the good, 
 honest, ignorant, creatures, as we proved them 
 to be later on. 
 
 " The woman recovered herself first — women 
 are always far ahead of men at the uptack — 
 and sharply calling off the dog sent him yowl- 
 ing to the back premises with a neat kick. Then 
 she called to us ' Entrar ! Entrar! ' and although 
 we did not know the meaning of the word, we 
 quickly knew the meaning of that tone w^hich 
 * shall cover the multitude of sins ' in the day of 
 judgement. 
 
 *'Then Princess and I were courteously shown 
 into the very humble abode of Senora and 
 Senor Manuel Martinez — as we learned to call 
 them afterwards. I have often wondered after 
 many experiences of that sort why it happens 
 that the totally ignorant and the highly refined 
 are the only ones who show hospitality with 
 simplicity and kindness. 
 
 ''Abraham was a 'Prince in the land' and 
 had three hundred servants born in his own 
 house! so he was a man of great substance and 
 high importance. Three wayfaring men came 
 to his tent door, and he simply constrained 
 them to stay and accept his hospitality. Then 
 Abraham — the Prince — ran and took a calf 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 215 
 
 from the herd and gave it to a young man to 
 dress, at the same time telling Sarah to make 
 ready cakes for the strangers. All this, mind 
 you, while the men rested, and no doubt talked 
 with Abraham as they found opportunity. 
 
 '* Fancy a half-bred sort of man acting thus: 
 the thing would be impossible! Such a one 
 would have lost his head between wondering 
 what was the correct thing to do, and making 
 everybody uncomfortable in his awkward at- 
 tempts to do it in what he thought a proper 
 manner, whereas Abraham only thought of 
 doing an act of kindness and hospitality. 
 
 •* Now let us turn from * Prince ' Abraham, 
 the king rescuer and learned savant, to Manuel, 
 the utterly ignorant ranchero, to whom the 
 page of a book was as blank as the face of 
 a rock, and a good deal more so, for Manuel 
 knew what to do with a rock, but he had no 
 use for a book, and never wore out his heart or 
 brain with such things, and so was well content. A 
 man who neither craved nor cared for anything 
 beyond his own little corner of the Galapagos 
 Islands. A man who rarely saw a human face 
 excepting his own little household, and when 
 at long intervals the Padre (whom he had 
 known and loved all his life) came plodding 
 
2i6 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 along on his merciful rounds to pray for Manuel 
 and family, and console them with spiritual 
 consolation in time of grief, and to rejoice with 
 them in times of rejoicing. 
 
 '* But this poor, ignorant man did the honours 
 of hospitality with the hearty, good grace of the 
 great, rich Prince Abraham on the plain of 
 Mamre, surrounded with honour, power, learn- 
 ing, and wealth, as we are told he was. Both 
 men did their deeds of kindness with the grace 
 of naturalness, a manner which civilization seems 
 to have erased from modern men and women. 
 
 " So my poor man and wife — good souls — 
 soon jaloused what had happened, and the 
 woman quickly had Princess into an inner bit 
 of a room, and, divesting her of her tattered 
 garments, wrapped her in a nice, soft poncho, 
 and laid the wearied child on what was evidently 
 the woman's own children's bed. In the mean- 
 time Manuel had promptly busied himself in 
 preparing food — exactly as Abraham the Prince 
 had done — only instead of slaying a calf he de- 
 capitated a fat rooster, and dressed it in less 
 time than I take to recount the interesting pro- 
 cess. While thus busily engaged upon his 
 hospitable task, he nevertheless found time to 
 fish out from a great chest — the receptacle for 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 217 
 
 the family wardrobe, I inferred — some garments 
 for me. 
 
 *' In a very short time, even by the calculation 
 of my impatient appetite, the ' potaje' — that 
 was what Manuel termed the savoury mess he 
 had in hand — was ready, and he poured it into 
 a large, coarse, earthenware dish, the aroma 
 filling the house with the most delightful odour 
 I ever inhaled in my life. The wife ladled some 
 of the delicious soup into a handy little bowl for 
 Princess. Then Manuel, presenting me wuth a 
 fine large wooden spoon, invited me to fall to, 
 which I did without further ceremony. And I 
 think that dish of potaje was, ' without excep- 
 tion,' the most delicious food I ever tasted, 
 and the little loaf of bread which the good fellow 
 provided as an adjunct to the soup was truly 
 wonderful in its heavenly flavour. 
 
 " I learned afterwards that potaje is simply 
 a hotch-potch of the most splendid kind. It is 
 a standard dish with the Spaniards of South 
 America, from the highest to the lowest strata 
 of society. 
 
 ''After appeasing my hunger, and finding 
 that Princess was happily in the land of dreams, 
 I became so overcome with sleep that my good 
 host, seeing my condition, led me into a snug 
 
2i8 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 little store-room, where all manner of goods 
 were kept, and where high up on one side there 
 was a wide settle, well covered with straw. 
 Here Manuel intimated, by expressive words 
 and signs, was ' un buen sitio para la siesta,' 
 and I quickly took the hint, and in a few mo- 
 ments fell into profound slumber, so profound 
 that I did not awake until daydawn of the 
 morrow. 
 
 # # # # :^ 
 
 *' When I came at my friend Manuel's call to 
 ' ven a comer,' I found Princess already up, and 
 looking bright and even happy, poor child, in 
 spite of her late dreadful experiences. 
 
 '' ' Good morning! ' she cried, with the same 
 free, cheerful manner with which she always 
 greeted Chips and me of a morning. 
 
 '* ' Oh, I have had such beautiful dreams! but 
 I do not know if they were only dreams — I 
 think they must have been real visions, not 
 merely dreams ! Chips once told me that people 
 in Scotland sometimes saw visions; only he did 
 not call them visions, but another name which I 
 have forgotten." 
 
 " * Perhaps it was wraiths,' I suggested. 
 
 " ' Yes ! that was the name. But I think Chips 
 told me that wraiths never uttered a word. So 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 219 
 
 my dreams must have been visions, for oh, they 
 spoke to me, and made me perfectly happy! 
 I saw my mother and father, and I held their 
 hands as plainly as I hold your hands at this 
 moment. And dear old Chips was there, and I 
 am sure all the crew must have been there also, 
 for there were so many. But, of course, my 
 attention was principally taken up with mother 
 and father, and Chips, because I loved them most.' 
 
 '* Thinking that the child had gone far enough 
 in her startling record of dreams — or visions, as 
 she persisted in calling what she had seen in the 
 night — I persuaded her to do justice to the good 
 breakfast which Manuel and the senora had 
 prepared for us, and set out so nicely on their 
 rough but clean table. 
 
 '' After we had enjoyed the fine things pro- 
 vided for us — delicious bread, Indian corn, por- 
 ridge and milk, besides many kinds of fruit, and 
 all served as willingly and courteously as though 
 Princess and I had been a king and queen, in- 
 stead of a pair of utterly destitute castaways, I 
 proposed that we should look at Manuel's 
 plantation, and examine the curious plants and 
 trees which he cultivated; the banana, with its 
 long, graceful leaves and great bunches of fruit, 
 the beautiful orange trees, the wonderful gourds, 
 
220 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 as large as a cask, the delicious water-melons, 
 which grew in every spare corner like weeds, 
 the pretty, sweet-potato plant, which is not a 
 potato at all but a convolvulus with a very 
 beautiful flower and a root which is fit to grace 
 a king's table. 
 
 '' But none of these things tempted Princess 
 that morning, for she had other plans in her 
 head. She wished to go to the old ruin where 
 we had rested awhile when we were cast ashore 
 by the sea. Of course, I wished to do anything 
 to divert the child's mind from brooding upon 
 her terrible loss and forlorn condition; so I 
 made no objection to her plan. 
 
 " After several linguistic flights and a few 
 presentations of the signs of the Zodiac, I 
 managed to explain to Manuel that my little 
 senorita desired to go to the old ruin which 
 we had discovered. The good fellow soon 
 caught on to my meaning, and quietly and 
 quickly providing some bread, bananas, and 
 oranges for our midday repast, and seizing his 
 stout staff, he declared himself ready for the 
 expedition. 
 
 " I suppose some particular day in each of 
 our lives remains vividly in every man's memory. 
 I remember every detail of that day as though 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 221 
 
 it were yesterday. I even remember such trifles 
 as our exact positions as we wended our way 
 through the cactus forest : Manuel leader, Prin- 
 cess in the middle, and I rearguard. I remember 
 the shape and colour of every flower we gathered 
 and admired, the birds we saw — some so tame 
 that they allowed us almost to touch them (it 
 takes long knowledge of the cruel ways of man 
 to make the wild creatures fear us !). Then there 
 was the startling episode of again meeting the 
 great monster which so terrified Princess at our 
 first encounter. But Manuel made short work 
 of the galapago. As he slid out his ridiculous 
 head — as tortoises do to look at the world — 
 Manuel tapped the creature sharply with his 
 staff and ordered him out of our way. The 
 galapago seemed to understand Spanish in a 
 fashion I envied, for he immediately turned off 
 the path and gave us room to pass. It was no 
 question of honour or right of way, it was simply 
 a case of necessity, for it was utterly impossible 
 for us to give way and face the fearful cactus 
 needles, whereas these awful spines made no 
 more impression on the tortoise's splendid 
 armour than the brushing of white clover would 
 make upon our hands. 
 
 *' This particular galapago had a curious 
 
222 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 history, which my friend Manuel told me long 
 afterwards, for I was his working guest for six 
 months before I had the chance of a passing 
 fishing schooner bound for Guayaquil. But that 
 was an after-adventure which I may tell you of 
 at some future time. 
 
 '' To return to * Don Alvarado ' (as Manuel 
 addressed the tortoise which had politely given 
 us the right of way), Manuel declared that the 
 creature knew a good many Spanish words. He 
 had been in Manuel's possession ever since he 
 — Manuel — was a boy; and, moreover, had be- 
 longed to the Martinez family for at least four 
 generations, which made the 'Don' considerably 
 over two hundred years old. Manuel had no idea 
 what age the * Don ' was when he became dipro- 
 tegi of the family, but he inclined to the opinion 
 that the * Don ' was fully grown even then. His 
 weight had remained about the same for many 
 years. Manuel had made a practice of weighing 
 the creature every few years on an old-fashioned 
 pair of scales which he had negotiated from a 
 whaler, and he found that ' Don Alvarado ' 
 varied very little, year in and year out, from six 
 hundred pounds. This is not an extra weight 
 for galapagos, many turning the scale at eight 
 hundred. 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 223 
 
 " I learned these interesting items — and much 
 more — long after the day when we three met 
 * Don/ and of course after I picked up enough 
 Spanish to be able to follow Manuel's talks 
 coherently. 
 
 ** Princess was in high spirits that morning, 
 and as the ' Don ' turned slowly and calmly 
 aside, at Manuel's admonition, to make room 
 for us to pass, she patted his back, laughed 
 merrily, and said: 
 
 '' ' Thank you, Don Alvarado! And I humbly 
 beg your pardon for mistaking you for an- 
 other personage altogether, when I first met 
 you! ' 
 
 " So we three went on our way, and in a 
 short while came to the ruin. And we being in 
 so much better condition than before I now 
 examined the place with more interest and care. 
 
 " Although even at its best it had only been 
 a rough sort of building, yet by its form and 
 general construction I was confirmed in my 
 first opinion that it was the ruin of a church. 
 All the woodwork had disappeared, but the 
 stone altar still stood in place, and, climbing in 
 through cracked walls and broken roof, hung 
 great festoons of gorgeous white clematis and 
 other splendid tropical vines. 
 
224 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 *' When we entered the strange, silent place, 
 Manuel reverently doffed his sombrero, and of 
 course I did the same with my tattered old cap. 
 But although Manuel was so punctilious in his 
 respect to the old building, I noticed that he 
 had no hesitation about lighting, with flint and 
 steel, one of his nice cigarrillos — the tobacco 
 home grown, home cured, and rolled up in the 
 sweet fragrant inner covering of the Indian corn 
 cob, not in dirty paper as is the custom in 
 civilized countries. Then calmly taking a seat 
 on one of the convenient stones lying about, he 
 quietly and philosophically proceeded to enjoy 
 the present moment, as all wise men advise us 
 to do. 
 
 " After awhile we ate our frugal but most 
 delicious lunch, and when we had rested a bit, 
 Princess and I went wandering and exploring 
 about the old place, leaving Manuel meantime 
 quietly to finish another cigarrillo. 
 
 *' By its position we concluded that the raised 
 part at the very end of the building must have 
 been the altar. And as we stood there, never 
 speaking a word, while Manuel sat quite still, 
 at the other end of the building, my mind went 
 away back to the priests and congregations of 
 men and women who had worshipped there in 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 225 
 
 some far past, filling the place with life, sounds 
 of spoken words, chants, and hymns! Now only 
 we three in the silent ruin, with never a sound 
 save the booming of the restless surge, with its 
 messages of sorrow to Princess and me. 
 
 " In a little while I felt a strange awe creeping 
 into my heart — not fear, only awe — for I knew 
 that others were coming! Looking at Princess 
 I saw that she knew also, for on her face there 
 was an expression of radiant happiness and 
 loveliness, such as I had never seen before, 
 although she was always a beautiful child! 
 
 " Princess clasped her hands, and in a low 
 happy voice broke the silence in kind loving 
 words, the last I ever heard her speak except 
 in my dreams! 
 
 *' ' My dear Lord, I thank Thee that they are 
 coming for me, but, dear Lord Jesus, remember 
 David, for he will be very lonely in this strange 
 land. Amen!' 
 
 *' Then while I stood and wondered, suddenly 
 they were all there! Her mother and father. 
 Chips, and every one of the crew — all were 
 there barring one\ But he was there indeed! 
 Not contented and happy as were all the others, 
 but lying cold and stark upon the ground — 
 Dead ! And again I heard repeated in my soul 
 
 Q 
 
226 THE LAST CRUISE 
 
 that terrible verse which Chips once explained 
 to Princess's satisfaction: 'And shall come forth, 
 they that have done good, unto the resurrection 
 of Life, and they that have done evil, unto the 
 resurrection oi Death! 
 
 "In a moment, with a glad cry, Princess 
 sprang to her father and mother — her face 
 radiant with the beauty and light which mortal 
 faces never possess, and looking lovingly back 
 to me, as she held her father s and mother's 
 hands. 
 
 *' If you ask me how they all appeared, I can 
 only say that they seemed possessed of perfect 
 contentment! A wonderful contentment such 
 as I have never seen on mortal face of man or 
 woman. 
 
 *' I remember thinkinof at the moment how 
 strange it was that Manuel sat calm and un- 
 moved with all this wonderful company before 
 him ! But the fact was that the good fellow saw 
 no one save Princess and me standing by the 
 altar: and he told me afterwards that he did 
 not see us change our positions until Princess 
 sank to the ground in what he supposed to be 
 a fainting fit brought on through fatigue. And 
 when it was all past, I found myself still in my 
 first position, namely, leaning against the altar. 
 
OF THE DEVONPORT 227 
 
 with Princess lying on the ground, and Manuel 
 kneeling beside her, weeping and saying prayers 
 over her silent little body. Then the under- 
 standing of it all came fully into my mind! I 
 realized that when I saw Princess pass over to 
 her mother it was her spiritual self, lovely and 
 radiant, which went, while her earthly body lay 
 quiet and still. 
 
 '' When I managed to ask Manuel what he 
 had seen, he looked scared and troubled, and 
 only shook his head. But what / saw I have 
 told you; and it was just as real and palpable 
 to me as any other event of my life. And what 
 is more, it has remained a happy and consoling 
 remembrance to me ever since. 
 
 " We reverently laid the child's body on the 
 altar. Manuel went back to his rancho, and 
 quickly returned with such things as we required. 
 His wife and their two quiet children came also, 
 and it was a most strange and touching sight 
 when the father and mother, with the two 
 children, knelt down before my little Princess, 
 and quietly offered up their simple prayers for 
 the child they had treated so mercifully even 
 with their scanty means — and without a vestige 
 of hope of reward, at least in this world! But I 
 have often thought since, that Manuel and his 
 
228 CRUISE OF THE DEVONPORT 
 
 wife will in no wise lose their reward, for they 
 gave much more than the ' cup of cold water,' 
 good, kind souls! 
 
 '* We prepared a grave immediately in front 
 of the altar; and the children brought great 
 armfuls of the splendid, white clematis, with 
 which we entirely covered the dark earth, mak- 
 ing her body's resting-place really worthy of our 
 little lady. But whenever I look back upon that 
 strange event, I do not see a grave ; I see my 
 beautiful, radiant Princess holding her mother's 
 hands, and smiling back to me, with the glory 
 of Paradise on her face ! " 
 
WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, AND 
 DIABLO 
 
WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, AND 
 DIABLO 
 
 Let not him that girdeth on his harness boast himself as he 
 that putteth it off. 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 Injins! Stranger, yes! I know 'em well; 
 As mean as skunks, and wickeder nor hell ! 
 
 I've knowed 'em since I was an eight-year-old. 
 There ain't no Injin tricks I need be told ! 
 
 In cussedness, and every devil's crime, 
 They get the bulge on Satan every time. 
 
 And all the parsons Boston ever struck 
 Can't change the natur' o' one Injin Buck. 
 
 But, Stranger, when you say they canH act square, 
 I've got the bind, my friend, upon you there ! 
 
 I ain't a scholard, so I can't tell why. 
 But this I do know. Stranger, that you lie! 
 
 Out on the Big Horn forty years ago, 
 I trapped for peltries with a Mountain Crow. 
 231 
 
232 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 Our luck was bad, the season wouldn't freeze, 
 The snow was ten feet deep, and soft as cheese. 
 
 Our grub near petered out, and not one thing 
 On foot, in water, or upon the wing 
 
 Came by our camp! And then I got to know 
 There's more'n cussedness even in a Crow! 
 
 Our grub, perhaps, would go a dozen rounds. 
 
 And then— wal— then the Happy Huntin' Grounds ! 
 
 When up got that queer Crow, an' gave a speech. 
 Stranger, your dandy colleges can't teach ! 
 
 I ain't forgot it all them forty years, 
 I won't forget it — not until I hears 
 
 My checks call'd in — and then I hope to know 
 In them ar parts old Passacon the Crow ! 
 
 Says he — an' stood there straighter nor a tree. 
 Just like a king (or what he ought to be) — 
 
 " Friend, one must die, and Passacon will show 
 His friend the heart that beats within a Crow. 
 
 " Brother, our food will serve but one, and I 
 Was taught by chiefs the way a chief should die ! " 
 
 I tell ye. Stranger, it seem'd hardly square 
 To let a man die while the grub was there. 
 
 But if an Injin says he'll die— why, then 
 He'll "die in spite o' twenty thousand men! 
 
 And die he did— but in my stupid way 
 
 I wish'd we both had been wiped out that day ! 
 
 Yes, Injin 's Injin, Stranger, but that Crow 
 Taught me some things my larnin' didn't know ! 
 
AND DIABLO 
 
 233 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 EL PASO DEL NORTE 
 
 |NCE upon a time I went on a 
 fishing, hunting, and exploring 
 expedition away up towards the 
 headquarters of the Rio Grande. I 
 happened to be located at the city of El Paso 
 del Norte when I made up this rather indefinite 
 plan, and it was somewhat difficult to arrange 
 a proper outfit for a long tour, with the materials 
 to be picked up in a frontier * Dago ' town. One 
 of my first difficulties was to find a suitable man 
 to act as guide, hunter, general factotum, and 
 cheerful companion. I consulted a tourist agent 
 on the subject, who at once recommended a 
 man who had left his name with the agent, 
 in case any one should wish his services. As 
 this man was boarding at a little Mexican 
 Fonda near hand, the agent soon had him 
 along, and left us to talk matters over, and if we 
 concluded an agreement, to pay our fees and 
 receive his blessing. 
 
 I found Aaron Slocum — that was the man's 
 
234 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 name — pretty well up in years, but yet like so 
 many of those who have passed their lives 
 almost wholly in the open air (witness Abraham, 
 Moses, etc., all going far into the second 
 hundred, well and hearty) that I thought Aaron, 
 wiry and fresh looking, was fit for an extra 
 twenty or thirty years over and above the span 
 allotted to men by the Psalmist. 
 
 As a good deal of the success and pleasure 
 of my adventure resulted from my lucky ac- 
 quaintanceship with Aaron Slocum, I had 
 better explain fully how we finally came to an 
 understanding, or perhaps I ought to say how 
 Aaron came to an understanding, for he was so 
 careful thoroughly to examine my general char- 
 acter that I had some difficulty in satisfying 
 him that I was quite a suitable companion for 
 an ancient and respectable inhabitant to go into 
 the wilderness with. 
 
 One finds all sorts and conditions of men — 
 and women, I may add — at El Paso del Norte, 
 the border town of Mexico, situated on the 
 south bank of the Rio Grande ; therefore it be- 
 hoved both Aaron and me to be careful how we 
 metaphorically picked each other up. I wrote 
 *'an ancient inhabitant " just now, but I must 
 explain that Aaron Slocum was not a denizen of 
 
AND DIABLO 235 
 
 that ill-flavoured city. On the contrary, he was 
 tenaciously proud of hailing from the classical 
 Cape Cod, the Puritan faith of which region he 
 strenuously professed, but somewhat curiously 
 intermingled with Indian beliefs and ethics. 
 
 Strange to say, that although born so near the 
 salt water, Aaron's long life — he was seventy 
 when I foregathered with him — had been passed 
 far from the world of waters, excepting the 
 world of freshwater lakes, all of which he 
 knew intimately, but which I hardly knew even 
 by name. 
 
 Aaron had drifted south with a party who 
 had engaged him at the Yellow Stone, in the 
 capacity of hunter, guide, negotiator with 
 Indians, besides general handy man in the num- 
 berless emergencies unexpectedly arising in the 
 wilderness, wherein the ordinary civilized man 
 is utterly helpless. I learned by degrees (for he 
 was not much addicted to speech) that Aaron 
 had endured much tribulation of spirit during 
 his four months' sojourn with his late party, 
 all the members of which were members of 
 scientific societies, presidents of colleges, and 
 clever men of every kind, and, as Aaron ex- 
 pressed it, " all of them with half the letters of 
 the alphabet tagged on to their names, and yet 
 
236 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 not having enough common sense with it all to 
 come in out of the rain." 
 
 Aaron had spent such a hard time with his 
 learned company — but he did not call them 
 learned, he called them simply " a bunch of silly 
 tender-feet " — that he would not agree with me 
 for a long journey until we had had a short trip 
 together somewhere. The poor old chap had 
 suffered " sich dogont agonies " from the end- 
 less scrapes which the foolhardiness of the pro- 
 fessors led him into that he vowed never again 
 to start with white men until he had proved them, 
 and found out their exasperating ways. 
 
 "Injins," Aaron would remark, **are all one 
 shape when on the trail. They never blunder 
 along like whites do, two abreast on a narrow 
 trail, neither of the fools getting the best of it! 
 A redskin picks the best of the road, and leaves 
 the best clear for the next fellow. Sich ways are 
 common sense, and why the high larnin' should 
 knock it all out of a white man I dun know! And 
 I don't intend to travel no more with white men 
 until I see if they know better than to ketch a 
 rattler by the tail because some other fool had 
 told him that the wicked critter couldn't bite if 
 he held it tight enough ! And that was in them 
 everlasting Bad-lands, where it is about as hard 
 
AND DIABLO 237 
 
 to dior a grave as it is in a bed o' New England 
 granite! " 
 
 * # * # # 
 
 When Aaron Slocum told me that little epi- 
 sode, and so delicately hinted at the sad finale, 
 I realized how necessary it was, from his former 
 experiences, to know something of his employer's 
 idiosyncrasies before embarking with him on an 
 indefinite voyage into the lonely wilderness. 
 
 We took what I may call, in sporting phrase, 
 our "preliminary canter" into Mexico, and a 
 very successful canter it was. I learned a good 
 deal of the northern part of that romantic land 
 where the brave, but, alas! cruel old conquistadors 
 fought, and suffered, and died like gallant reck- 
 less adventurers as they were. 
 
 Upon our return to Paso del Norte, Aaron 
 expressed himself in a few words — Aaron never 
 wasted anything, least of all words — as quite 
 willing *'to hitch on to the wagon from this 
 measly old Dago town right away up to the 
 Yukon." I took this v/ide geographical defini- 
 tion as signifying thorough approval of my 
 general conduct, and as I had fully proved 
 his fitness as guide, hunter, and head major- 
 domo, I engaged him for an indefinite period at 
 eighty dollars a month, and never once had 
 
238 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 occasion to regret my choice. What Aaron didn't 
 know of all manner of wilderness life was not 
 worth knowing. Then with regard to general 
 matters — cooking, mending torn things, fixing 
 saddles, and all the innumerable odd jobs con- 
 stantly cropping up when people live in what 
 may be designated a state of nature, and haven't 
 got shops to run to every minute — Aaron was 
 a past master. And best of all, when one got to 
 know him intimately, he was the best-tempered 
 man it ever was my happy fate to be associated 
 with, which, by the way, is a quality of supreme 
 importance in all modes of life, but in the 
 wilderness is the elixir of life which cures every- 
 thing, like good old Perry Davies' Pain-killer. 
 
 When we finally left Paso del Norte our cara- 
 van consisted of, besides Aaron and myself, two 
 broncos (western name for prairie-bred horses) 
 for riding purposes, and two mules for carrying 
 our camping outfit. We had selected both 
 horses and mules with the greatest care, not 
 only in regard to soundness of body and limb, 
 but also to temper, for we both knew by sad 
 experience in the past that one evil beast will 
 not only cause more trouble in a camp than all 
 the others put together, but will often by his 
 roguish disposition so demoralize his com- 
 
AND DIABLO 239 
 
 panions that the whole camp becomes a perfect 
 pandemonium. Horses and mules, and all other 
 creatures which I know intimately, can curse 
 and swear just as wickedly as men, although 
 not quite so disgustingly. 
 
 After a few days of careful trial we took over 
 the two broncos and one mule. But the second 
 mule, although a splendid animal to look at, and 
 sound as a bell, caused us so much uneasiness 
 with regard to his mind and disposition, that 
 we told his owner we could not take the beast 
 for fear of his tricks giving us trouble and 
 probably demoralizing the whole camp. But 
 the poor Dago was so very anxious to get away 
 to Mexico City by train, where his family were 
 located, that he offered the mule at half his 
 first-named price. This concession would not 
 have moved me at all, but Aaron was so taken 
 by the animal's bodily beauty and fitness that 
 he persuaded himself, and finally me, that by 
 patience and good management he could cure 
 *' Diablo's " kink of temper, which he felt sure 
 was an acquired sinfulness and not a natural 
 disposition, the mule was too beautiful to be 
 naturally wicked, etc. 
 
 One great point in Diablo's favour was the 
 fact that he could carry nearly double the load 
 
240 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 of an ordinary mule, without turning a hair. 
 His one vice, what I may call his devilish prize 
 trick, was to rear without a moment's warning 
 and throw himself flat on his back. Of course 
 this was a most dangerous proceeding if he 
 were carrying a rider, but if he only had a pack 
 on his back it did not matter so much unless 
 unfortunately his load happened to be break- 
 ables, in which case of course the catastrophe 
 was according to the value of the articles of 
 which the load consisted. 
 
 But Aaron pointed out that we could load 
 Diablo wath flour, beans, sugar, and horse food, 
 all such things as would take no harm from the 
 mule's humorous tricks, and, moreover, he 
 affirmed that by careful management he would 
 cure Diablo in course of time. Aaron never 
 adopted violent measures of punishing animals 
 as m.ost men are so prone to do. He pursued a 
 mild sort of educational training, which he said 
 appealed to a beast's understanding just as 
 such a course appeals to a man's common sense, 
 if he has any. 
 
 So we adopted Diablo, paid the poor raga- 
 muffin Dago full price — it was not much after 
 all — and began in earnest to complete our 
 arrangements for an early start. Both Aaron 
 
AND DIABLO 241 
 
 and I were tired of El Paso del Norte, and its 
 conglomeration of humans and inhumans col- 
 lected from all points of the compass. 
 
 For ten days or more we kept our broncos 
 and mules entirely by themselves in a corral 
 that we hired for the purpose, so that they 
 might become intimatelyacquainted and friendly 
 with each other. 
 
 With Aaron's judicious assistance I selected 
 such articles as were required for a first-class 
 camp outfit, and at the same time everything of 
 as small bulk and weight as was compatible 
 with utility. We did not take a very large 
 supply of food, as we depended upon replenish- 
 ing our stock as we went along. 
 
 Our route as I had planned it out in my 
 mind's eye, was a general north-westerly course, 
 which I reckoned would bring us somewhere 
 into the vicinity of Great Salt Lake in two or 
 three months if we did not "orit busted" as 
 Aaron Slocum ominously expressed it, in the 
 meantime. 
 
 Early in my acquaintanceship with Aaron I 
 discovered that he had that curious strain of 
 melancholy which I think must be an inherit- 
 ance of New Englanders from the time of that 
 dismal landing *' on the wild New England 
 
 R 
 
242 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 shore." If I only looked at his immovable 
 countenance when he was speaking, I could 
 never tell whether he were saying some really 
 funny thing, or if he was expressing some pro- 
 foundly sad opinion. So I did not know exactly 
 in which category to place the following lively 
 prognostication, that he calmly delivered one 
 night as we were making our plans. 
 
 ** If we don't git busted among the ZunieSy 
 and if we git safely through that ugly bit of 
 rattler infested sage brush country on the other 
 side of the San Juan, and if our broncos and 
 mules aren't stolen or drowned, or hocus-pocus'd 
 by them cussed rattlers, we oughter to strike 
 Salt Lake in two months. And as that will be 
 early April, we'll have God's beautiful northern 
 summer before us, and if that don't make poor 
 sinful men happy, then I think they oughter to 
 have their portion with the unbelievers." 
 
 Aaron had also a peculiar habit of mixing 
 words and even phrases from Holy Writ in his 
 ordinary conversation, so simply and naturally 
 that he seemed to do it quite unconsciously, but 
 often with startling effect upon the hearer. As 
 I kept a semi-correct journal of that voyage 
 through the wilderness, I often transcribed his 
 exact words, but I could not transcribe his de- 
 
AND DIABLO 243 
 
 lightful tone of voice and pronunciation. And 
 although you may think that I have exagger- 
 ated Aaron's expressions now and then, I have 
 by no means done so, and many of his choicest 
 quotations — I say it with all reverence — have 
 so far escaped my memory that they only come 
 flashing into my mind at untoward moments 
 when I cannot take time to fix them in durable 
 form. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 AARON SLOCUM AND DIABLO 
 
 At daydawn on the 31st of January 189- 
 Aaron and I bade farewell to El Paso del Norte, 
 and turned our faces towards the North Star. 
 Our animals were all in good form, and even 
 Diablo seemed to have greatly improved under 
 the good example of our sedate broncos and 
 Aaron's firm but kind treatment. Before start- 
 ing, Aaron packed his bronco with Diablo's 
 load and rode the latter himself. I expostulated 
 with him for running this risk, saying that it 
 would be better after the mule became travel- 
 weary to begin his education. But Aaron de- 
 
244 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 clared that it was always the better plan to 
 show both man and beast at the very begin- 
 ning of an acquaintanceship, that nonsense 
 was not to be tolerated, especially wicked non- 
 sense. 
 
 On the first day Diablo played his back 
 somersault trick exactly six times: I counted 
 them carefully, as I fully expected each murder- 
 ous attempt would involve funeral expenses and 
 necessitate the engagement of a new major- 
 domo. 
 
 The proceedings of the little beast were ex- 
 tremely curious. He would go along by the 
 hour as if he never heard of such things as 
 '' battle and murder and sudden death," calmly 
 nibbling a succulent weed now and then and 
 looking upon the whole cavalcade with a calm 
 sweet expression of good wishes. Then, with 
 the swiftness of an arrow from the bow, before 
 one could realize how it all happened, although 
 one had been carefully observing the creature 
 all the time, Diablo had performed his wonder- 
 ful acrobatic feat, and was lying flat on his back 
 playfully pawing the air with his neat round 
 hoofs, and showing the whites of his gleaming 
 eyes. 
 
 How Diablo had acquired this evil habit I 
 
AND DIABLO 245 
 
 do not know, but I do know how he was 
 cured and acquired the habit of goodness in- 
 stead thereof. 
 
 By some intuitive, instant perception, Aaron 
 could always anticipate Diablo's performance a 
 moment or two, and by the time the mule looked 
 round to enjoy the sight of a scattered load, or 
 better still, a scattered man, Aaron was gently 
 pulling upon the bridle to assist him to rise, at 
 the same time using the gentlest kind of ex- 
 pressions, as if he were soothing a beloved child 
 who had come to grief by some mishap, but by 
 no fault of its own. 
 
 For the first week or ten days of our journey, 
 Diablo went through this performance not less 
 than four times a day, and some days as often 
 as eight or ten times. Whenever he recovered 
 his equilibrium after each desperate attempt to 
 demolish his rider, and finding Aaron utterly 
 unmoved in temper, and unscathed in body, 
 and gently rubbing his (Diablo's) legs with 
 tender solicitude, it was an object lesson in 
 psychology to watch Diablo's bewildered ex- 
 pression at the utter uneffectualness of his 
 trump-card trick, a trick which had never be- 
 fore failed to rouse the whole camp to a 
 state of hopping-madness since (in an inspired 
 
246 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 moment) he had invented the clever gymnastic 
 performance. 
 
 It was a marvel to me then, and it is a marvel 
 to me still, when I reflect upon it, how Aaron 
 escaped with his life from Diablo's fiendish 
 trick. He was no longer a young, agile man, 
 and even the cleverest acrobat might have 
 been caught by Diablo's lightning somersault 
 feats. But Aaron Slocum never got a scratch, 
 and what is more wonderful still, he completely 
 cured Diablo of his demoniac performance. 
 
 The way Aaron explained the matter to me 
 was shortly in this wise : 
 
 '' The poor, mean critter must have been 
 only half broke when them Dagos put a full 
 load on his back, and if ever you have carried 
 an extra heavy swag yourself, you know how 
 easy and comforting it is — when you come to 
 a nice soft sloping bit of ground — to throw 
 yourself flat on your back! And if you take 
 notice you will see that Diablo never makes a 
 mistake in choosing a proper place for his little 
 game. 
 
 " Then them Dagos try to cure their beast- 
 critters, as well as their human-critters, by 
 savage means, and no doubt they punished 
 Diablo in such cruel fashion that what was 
 
AND DIABLO 247 
 
 only a nick-name at first became his everlasting 
 proper name. 
 
 '* But you see," continued Aaron, ** a little 
 Christian treatment and common sense have 
 almost cured the critter, and made him fit 
 company for human folk. And it is all the 
 result of that advice in the Wise Book: 'And 
 as ye would that men should do to you, do ye 
 also to them likewise.' " It was truly wonderful 
 how Aaron's judicious treatment transformed a 
 treacherous little semi-fiend into a sweet tem- 
 pered creature, as nearly sinless as it is possible 
 for a mule to be in this evil world, and the truth 
 of this assertion you will learn later on, if you 
 have patience. 
 
 Ours was rather a small company to under- 
 take such an extended travel as I contemplated. 
 But when I hinted this to Aaron, he did not at 
 all favour any addition to our number, although 
 I pointed out to him that another hand would 
 help to lighten his multifarious duties. But he 
 declared that the more you increased a party, 
 the more danger there was of ruckshuns, and 
 clinched his opinion with the old saw, slightly 
 varied, "two's company, three ain't none." So 
 with some little misgiving I gave up the idea 
 of an extra hand or two, and started into the 
 
248 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 wilderness with my one trusty servitor, trusty 
 down to the ground, as I proved him in many 
 a tight place ! 
 
 At odd times by the camp fire, or at noon- 
 day rests, Aaron recounted, much to my edifica- 
 tion, a great part of his life's history, and a 
 very interesting, not to say instructive, history 
 it was. But the point I wish to emphasize at 
 the moment is the fact that he believed implicitly 
 that a man is safer and more comfortable alone, 
 or with only one companion, in the wilderness, 
 than with a large party. Therefore when I 
 suggested an addition of one or two more to 
 our number he strenuously opposed the idea; 
 giving many instances of facts which had come 
 under his own observation, in support of his 
 objection. 
 
 Aaron asserted that any number of men over 
 two invariably fell into different opinions about 
 this, that, and the other. And so by swift de- 
 grees they came to disagreeable disputes, if not 
 worse, until the camp finally became a sort of 
 angry debating society. Whereas, with only 
 one in a camp, quarrelling was absolutely an 
 impossibility, for no man ever quarrels with 
 himself unless he goes mad, and then he kills 
 himself. But two in a camp was Aaron's ideal 
 
AND DIABLO 249 
 
 number, for in that case they had so to depend 
 on each other every moment of their lives, that 
 instead of " famiharity engendering contempt," 
 as the old proverb has it, the constant mutual 
 dependence and association engendered affec- 
 tion and trust. 
 
 In support of his assertion Aaron told me 
 the following touching little incident, which he 
 declared was absolutely true in every particular, 
 and when Aaron declared something to be 
 " bed-rock true " you might take your oath upon 
 the matter with assurance. Aaron was one of 
 the sort who would have gone to the stake — 
 when the stake was the fashionable way of 
 convincing stubborn people — rather than whittle 
 down that which he knew was a truth. Now I 
 will proceed with Aaron's reminiscence ; and if 
 you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed it that moon- 
 light night on the slopes of the Pina Mountains, 
 you will have a pleasant hour's reading and 
 reflection. I am sorry that I cannot recount 
 Aaron's reminiscence in his own delightfully 
 quaint phraseology, but I will give the meaning 
 word for word. 
 
250 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE PASSING OF AARON SLOCUm's WHITE-SOULED 
 FRIEND 
 
 Said Aaron, '' It is a bit over forty years agone 
 since I went trapping away out west with one 
 of the whitest-souled men I ever struck, and he 
 was an Injin. We had hunted and trapped for 
 two or three seasons together on the Black 
 Hills country, and had got on so well, and 
 suited each other so comfortably, that we agreed 
 to freeze on to each other for a long spell away 
 out in the far West. 
 
 " I was born on Cape Cod, and I am a New 
 Englander all over. My forefathers landed on 
 Plymouth Rock, and what with the northern 
 winters, and little grub, and the scalping Injins, 
 they had a pretty hard time of it, and most of 
 them died sooner or later — mostly sooner — but 
 some managed to leave descendants, and I am 
 one of them. You can imagine that men and 
 women who came from such a stock were a 
 tough sort both in soul and body for good or evil. 
 That is why poor Diablo could never git the 
 
AND DIABLO 251 
 
 bulge on me when he tried his back-hand-clip 
 that you thought was sure to ketch me some 
 day. 
 
 " I have been with the Injins off and on all 
 my life. And I have learned to think a good 
 deal more'n most men. And I have come to 
 the conclusion that it is a mistake to treat a 
 redskin on the same lines as a white man treats 
 another white man as a rule. A redskin always 
 kind of feels that a paleface is born with a lot 
 of things in his head that the Injin can't learn 
 nohow. And upon the whole I think that is 
 true enough, and right enough too, in a way. 
 But the trouble comes in when the redskin and 
 paleface come to close quarters in making deals 
 in large or small matters. The redskin is just 
 as eager as the whiteskin to git the sugar, but 
 the white claws it every time! And then there 
 are ruckshuns, and killing, and scalping, and 
 the cry goes round the country that there is no 
 good Injin 'cept a dead Injin. 
 
 '* There ain't no wickedness that Satan ever 
 invented that an Injin can't better every time. 
 But then on the other hand the virtue of a 
 paleface is like skim milk to firewater, when 
 an Injin takes to downright bed-rock righteous- 
 ness ! If a redskin chief pledges his word, he will 
 
252 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 keep his promise though you cut him in pieces 
 with red-hot knives. 
 
 * ¥^ ¥^ * * 
 
 "■ Passacon and I started away out west, 
 intending to trap all winter on the Big Horn, 
 and the next summer make our way out by the 
 Missouri, or any of the open rivers. 
 
 " That was the meanest kind of winter I ever 
 struck. Instead of freezing properly, it hardly 
 froze worth a cent, but it was a great snow 
 winter. It snowed and snowed until the tallest 
 trees were nearly all buried to their tops, but the 
 disjasket trouble was that week after week, and 
 month after month, the snow kept so soft that 
 the only fashion we could get about was to make 
 sort of sleighs of pine tops, and lying flat on 
 this arrangement push ourselves along by our 
 hands and feet. But it was impossible to go 
 far in this way, and indeed it was no use to go, 
 for all the country, as far as we could see or 
 judge, was just the same soft sludge, and never 
 a mortal living creature to be seen. 
 
 "It is very curious — or very instructive, as 
 the lecture fellows say — to notice the different 
 way of whiteskin and redskin, and as I had 
 little else to do that long, miserable winter, I 
 noticed it a good deal. 
 
AND DIABLO 253 
 
 " When Passacon and I got out of our blankets 
 of a morning, as late as we possibly could stand 
 it — so as to shorten the day, which was too 
 long at the shortest — we would stir up our fire 
 that we managed to keep alive with logs we 
 found by tunnelling under the snow. After 
 getting the fire agoing we would boil a pint 
 apiece of snow water, with a pinch of coffee, 
 and a few leaves of hemlock, and into this 
 precious liquor we put six beans, but as the 
 soft snow kept on we reduced our rations to 
 four beans for the pair of us. After dividing 
 this stuff into equal portions we drank it as 
 blazing hot as we could manage, for the hotter 
 it was the more life and comfort it put into us. 
 During all the making and eating, or rather 
 drinking, of our breakfast, Passacon would 
 never speak a word! At first I thought his 
 silence was owing to ill temper, or to the know- 
 ledofe that death was on our trail to find us. 
 But when I pressed him for the reason of his 
 silence he told me, in a few short words, that in 
 times of famine silence is a preserver of life, 
 and needless talk is wasteful of strength ! And 
 I have proved the truth of this in many tight 
 places since then. 
 
 ** But of course, as the slow days went on, 
 
254 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 and our bag of beans grew smaller and smaller, 
 we both knew that our scanty fare would peter 
 out long before the snow melted off, and it was 
 too late in the season to expect a freeze. 
 
 ''Although Injins ain't given to much talk- 
 ing at any time, and at a starvation time still 
 less than usual, for the reason Passacon had 
 stated, yet that redskin did talk considerable 
 in those miserable days. And I know now that 
 he did it to rouse me up when he saw that I 
 was getting real, low-down miserable. He was 
 a true friend, as I will show you presently — 
 such a one as a man is mighty lucky if he 
 strikes in a lifetime. And besides this, Pas- 
 sacon had been rather friendly to all whites 
 ever since a white man had saved his life in a 
 very brave way. He told me the story one day 
 after I had piled some fine logs on the fire, and 
 Passacon was comfortably fixed in his blankets 
 with his feet toasting nicely at the fine blaze — 
 if an Injin's feet are real hot, his whole body 
 is warm, although he may be half naked. 
 That 's why redskins always lie with their feet 
 to the fire, and so keep the whole of the body 
 warm, like wise men, while whiteskins lie 
 with their shoulders scorching, and the rest of 
 the body deadly cold, like foolish men! 
 
AND DIABLO 255 
 
 *' It was many snows agone, Passacon said, 
 when he went with other young men from their 
 lodges to work at a logging camp with the 
 white men. They had cut and hauled a big pile 
 of logs ready for the first spring float, when the 
 melting snow would carry the logs in a great 
 chute down to the mill on the lake. 
 
 "When the first of the flood comes down, the 
 loggers must see to it that the logs in front are 
 carried away clear, so as not to jam the greater 
 mass which they start later. Injins are usually 
 engaged for this work, as they are cleverer and 
 braver than whites at the dangerous job. 
 
 " Passacon was at this work when the first 
 float of the season began, and by some mishap 
 he was swept away, and supposed to be lost, as 
 no sane man would venture to help him in that 
 awful rush of roaring water, ice, and jumping 
 logs! But there was a fearless, if not a worldly, 
 sane man coming up the trail that morning on 
 his old bronco, and when he heard the cry that 
 a man was lost in the chute he slued his beast 
 round, and like a streak of greased lightning 
 raced the rushing flood for five miles down to 
 the lake, and he won ! In less than no time he 
 whipped off every stitch and leaped into the icy 
 water, that was cold enough to freeze a fur seal. 
 
256 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 But the parson — for it was just a parson, after 
 all — didn't stop to think this way and that way, 
 as men so often do, and lose their chance — if 
 he had been one of that sort I would never 
 have heard the brave story. Before Passacon 
 went down for the last time in the deathly cold 
 water, the parson had that redskin on his back 
 and towed him ashore, where the mill people, 
 first with a good rub of snow, and then with 
 hot things inside and out, soon brought the 
 paleface and redskin round to life again. And, 
 strange to say, Passacon had never cracked a 
 bone, or even gotten a scratch in all that fear- 
 some rush and tumble; he was only kind of 
 knocked silly for an hour or two. But it was a 
 close call, the closest call, barring one, he ever 
 had, and now I will tell you of that. 
 
 # # # ^ # 
 
 " Passacon and I had been snowed under for 
 sixty-five days, as our notched stick recorded 
 truer than ink and paper could have done. We 
 had been caught in the snow-drift early in 
 December, and now we were nearly half-way 
 through February. We had not reckoned on the 
 soft snow lasting more'n a month at the most, 
 and here it was going on for three months, and 
 not yet fit to bear a chipmunk with safety. 
 
AND DIABLO 257 
 
 " Fortunately we had struck a splendid camp 
 before ever the snow came on. It was a large, 
 open, dry cave, with a cliff overhanging, which 
 kept the snow from falling near our ' front 
 door,' as we called it, and provided a fine space 
 clear of snow. All about this open space, and 
 by tunnelling into the snow a bit, we found 
 plenty of firewood, for there 's plenty of pine 
 and such stuff in the upper reaches of the Big 
 Horn and Powder River. But if we had not 
 struck such a fine camping ground as we did, 
 and had we been caught in an open shelterless 
 position, we wouldn't have lived a week. 
 
 ''In our hunting and trapping in the summer 
 months we had managed to do pretty well, 
 selling our peltries to the trading posts, getting 
 supplies in return, and sometimes a few dollars. 
 In fact, I may say that we had done first rate 
 until the ill luck of the soft snow overtook us, 
 and made us prisoners. 
 
 " Then it was, when things had gotten to this 
 low-down pass, that Passacon came out a square- 
 footed Injin saint. And I always feel kind of 
 mean when I think of how that redskin saved 
 my life at the cost of his own! It came about 
 in this way. 
 
 " One night after we had taken our meal of 
 s 
 
258 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 hot water — we only had hot water at night — 
 and were wrapped up in our blankets, Passacon 
 said very quietly :| 
 
 "'Aaron! don't waken me in the morning, I 
 will take a long sleep. Only cook your own 
 breakfast, and be very careful of everything.' 
 
 " That was all he said, and then went into a 
 solid sleep for two nights and one day. 
 
 " I did exactly as he told me to do, and never 
 said a word good or bad — for it is not wise to 
 talk to an Injin when he wishes to be let alone. 
 On the second morning he woke up looking 
 chippy and bright, and I began boiling our 
 tin pots, but before I put the pinch of coffee 
 and our portion of beans into the hot water, Pas- 
 sacon laid his hand on my arm, and said quite 
 gently, and with that pleased kind of look that 
 Injins put on instead of a smile, like white folk: 
 
 " * Aaron, you must not make any food for 
 Passacon! He is going to his fathers, and leav- 
 ing his portion for you, to keep you alive in the 
 dark days yet to come. And by and by, in the 
 future years when you hear evil men telling lies 
 of the poor foolish red men, then recount this 
 story of how your friend — a Crow chief — passed 
 to the Spirit Land to enable his friend — a pale- 
 face — to go back to his own people and tell the 
 
AND DIABLO 259 
 
 story over and over until their cheeks grow red 
 with shame for the evil deeds they have done 
 to our race.' 
 
 " The chief never ate another morsel of food, 
 although I regularly laid my portion before him 
 and urged him to eat, saying that I, too, wished 
 to die, and not be left alone in that dreadful 
 loneliness. But he only laid his hand on mine, 
 and said : 
 
 '* ' Boy! ' — Passacon was twice as old as I — 
 ' Boy, it is not what we want, but what the 
 Great Manitou gives, that is good for us. This 
 life is still your portion for many moons and 
 many snows. He is taking me to the Happy 
 Hunting Grounds of our race, because I have 
 suffered enough, and because I have fulfilled 
 the purpose for which I was born.' Then, after 
 a little rest, he said: 
 
 '' ' Now go, my son, collect much firewood to 
 keep a great fire, for Passacon must leave you 
 to-night, and a chief should have plenty of light 
 on the road to the Land of Souls. When I tell 
 you, then you shall make the fire great and high, 
 and come close beside me, for there is a very 
 lonely and desolate place which the Spirit must 
 pass quite alone until it meets the waiting ones 
 on the other side, and then all is well ! ' 
 
26o WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 " At midnight my friend made a signal to 
 light his fire, and as it blazed straight up toward 
 the narrow bit of star-lit sky that could be seen 
 between the great walls of the canyon, Passacon 
 signed me to come to him. The old Injin was 
 so contented and happy-looking, that — not 
 knowing Injin nature so well then as I do now 
 — I thought the man was getting over his 
 determination to die, and, much relieved in my 
 feelings, I set about preparing some of our 
 precious food. But Passacon beckoned me to 
 him with such a quiet contented look, that I sat 
 down and took his hands in mine just in the 
 way we take a child's hands that we wish to 
 comfort. 
 
 '* Passacon must have felt my tears falling on 
 his hands, for he said : 
 
 "'Don't weep, Aaron! Tears belong to 
 squaws, men must bear pain and sorrow in 
 silence. I know it is hard for you to behave 
 like a redskin, because the Great Spirit made 
 the paleface men and their squaws just alike, 
 equal in wickedness and equal in foolishness: 
 equal in wickedness, for they took all our 
 hunting-grounds with lying pieces of paper 
 painted with words meaning two things. And 
 equal in foolishness, for when the palefaces and 
 
AND DIABLO 261 
 
 their squaws got all the red men's bountiful 
 hunting-grounds, they destroyed the countless 
 herds of buffalo with all haste, and left their 
 carcases to rot uselessly on the prairie, an 
 offence to men and an insult to the Manitou 
 who gave the buffalo for the support of men, 
 not to be destroyed in foolish wantonness.' 
 
 "After a little pause and a drink of water, 
 Passacon went on speaking. 
 
 '' ' Now I am ready to go to the Land of the 
 Hereafter. You do not see any one, but I see 
 many of those I lost long, long ago! I hear 
 their whispered words, but I do not know their 
 meaning, for it is a law of that land that men on 
 this side do not understand the language thereof 
 until they enter its portals. But we know the 
 faces of those we lost long ago. And I see 
 many who went from me in the far past! And 
 they, too, know that I am coming to them, for 
 they beckon and wave me to come quickly, but 
 this is a trail whereon no man can hasten or 
 delay. 
 
 '' * Farewell, Aaron, my friend! I cannot see 
 or hear you any more now, but I shall be the 
 first to meet you when you come. Farewell! 
 Be a brave, true man; and remember to tell 
 your race that a redskin died to save your life ! ' 
 
262 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 ** These were Passacon's last words. All that 
 night I sat beside my dead friend, and prayed 
 the good God to let me also depart. The horror 
 of utter loneliness was too heavy to bear. And 
 although you may think it strange, Passacon 
 was the only true friend I had in the world, 
 and now that he was gone, why should I be 
 left? But I was left, and here I am still after 
 forty years ! 
 
 " But in memory I have been true to my 
 friend, and told my people the truth pretty often, 
 and I may say that I never got much thanks. 
 For when men do wrong they naturally don't 
 like to hear of it. But I had to tell the truth 
 as my friend told it to me, in spite of their cuss- 
 ing and bad names. 
 
 '' I told the story to my party of professors, 
 because they asked me to, but when I had fin- 
 ished they were all hopping-mad, and asked 
 me if I thought that a lot of scalping red savages 
 were fit company for a nation of white Christians. 
 And I said that it greatly depended upon the 
 white Christians ! After that they didn't talk to 
 me any more about redskins and white Chris- 
 tians. But when we got to Paso del Norte, and 
 were settling up accounts in a pretty bad smellin' 
 Fonda, I asked them what they thought of 
 
AND DIABLO 263 
 
 white Christians now? and they only looked 
 kind of hurt in their feelin's, and never said 
 nothing at all ! " 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ON THE TRAIL AND DISCOVERY OF FULL-MOON CITY 
 
 Aaron and I soon fell into each other's ways, 
 and went along day after day in the most amic- 
 able manner. Indeed the spirit of peace so per- 
 vaded our camp than even Diablo soon began 
 to imbibe the new order of things, and under 
 the changed treatment he received became such 
 a new creature that I had serious thoughts of 
 changing his name. But Aaron was opposed to 
 this. Firstly, because themuleknewandanswered 
 to his name in the most ready and cheerful 
 manner, and, secondly, because his linguistic 
 qualifications being limited, he would take a very 
 long time to learn and answer readily to a new 
 cognomen. Then, also, Diablo, not being cog- 
 nisant of the derivation of his patronymic, we 
 could not for a moment suppose that his 
 rather suggestive name could possibly give the 
 happy, sleek little mule a moment's pain. So 
 
264 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 after due consideration we decided to continue 
 his euphonious, though a bit disagreeably re- 
 miniscent, appellation. 
 
 When we left Paso del Norte we steered 
 our course through part of New Mexico, mak- 
 ing easy stages each day, there being no neces- 
 sity to hurry, as the season was yet early. 
 
 We saw a little of the Zunie Indians — those 
 dwellers in almost inaccessible cliffs and natural 
 fortresses. But we did not hold much inter- 
 course with these interesting people, for the 
 reason that although Aaron Slocum had a 
 vast knowledge of Indian dialects he was non- 
 plussed by the Zunies' running fire of sibilants. 
 Even I with my meagre stock of Spanish could 
 understand them better than Aaron could, owing 
 to those people having adopted many Spanish 
 words during their long servitude under Spanish 
 soldiers and priests. 
 
 We did not spend much time in New 
 Mexico, as we had planned to keep pace with 
 the advancing summer northward. So we made 
 a short cut of it across the south-west corner 
 of that State, and skirting the Pina Moun- 
 tains, held a general northerly course through 
 Arizona. 
 
 Our broncos and mules were in excellent 
 
AND DIABLO 265 
 
 condition for travelling after their good keep 
 and proper adjustment of their packs and 
 saddles before starting. So we reckoned that, 
 barring accidents, we should reach Salt Lake 
 within two months, or thereabout, and then 
 we would still have the finest of the year before 
 us, with the glory of the Indian summer at the 
 end. I may remark e7i passant that we did ac- 
 complish that journey within the specified time, 
 a thing that is rarely done, even under the most 
 favourable circumstances, in this world of un- 
 toward events. 
 
 For instance, we were nearly delayed inde- 
 finitely in a collection of log huts — they called it 
 a town — in Arizona. 
 
 As a rule Aaron and I kept clear of any signs 
 of our own race ; but at the time I refer to 
 we were running short of provender both for 
 man and beast. Therefore, when Aaron sug- 
 gested that we should try if '' Full- Moon City " 
 (that was the euphonious name of the delectable 
 place) could supply our needs, I saw no reason 
 to object, although, as I have already remarked, 
 Aaron and I were of one mind in avoiding what 
 is ycleped civilization in the far west. So-called 
 ** savage life" we both understood pretty well, 
 and could generally get along therewith, but 
 
266 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 we were very chary about foregathering much 
 with our own colour. 
 
 However, having decided to test the capa- 
 bilities and civilization of Full-Moon City, we 
 marched into what we supposed to be the main 
 street, and we soon found that the supposition 
 was correct, for it was the only passage through 
 the huts to the centre of the " City," a place 
 called the Square. This consisted of a large 
 corral, subdivided into various divisions for 
 the accommodation of horses, cows, pigs, etc. 
 Around the Square stood the largest buildings 
 in the "City," bearing various attractive signs, 
 such as '' The First Call," " The Last Chance," 
 " Forty Rod Whisky Saloon," '' The Straight 
 Game of Poker," "The Ladies' Dancing Acad- 
 emy and Music Hall," etc. 
 
 There was a wonderful sense of repose 
 pervading the place, as if the inhabitants had 
 gone to their work in the fields, or mines, out- 
 side the city, or else that they slept in the day- 
 time, and did their work and business mostly in 
 the cool night season. Everything being in this 
 state of quietude, I told Aaron to go in search 
 of such things as we were in need of, and I 
 would look after the horses and mules. I took 
 a seat on some lumber that was piled by the 
 
AND DIABLO 267 
 
 side of the corral, holding the animals by their 
 lariats. They did not take much holding, poor 
 things, for they were both tired and hungry, 
 therefore quite content to have a rest; no 
 doubt, with the clever knowledge of the desert- 
 bred creature, shrewdly guessing that there was 
 a prospect of a good feed, as well as a long 
 happy rest. I particularly noticed that day, as I 
 had many times before, what a changed crea- 
 ture Diablo had become under Aaron's wise 
 management. While I sat there talking cheer- 
 fully to the horses and mules, and telling 
 them that Aaron would soon find them a feed, 
 Diablo quietly laid himself down in the soft 
 dust like a properly civilized mule, without dis- 
 turbing his pack one iota, whereas six weeks 
 before he would have flung himself savagely 
 on his back, smashing to atoms whatever was 
 breakable in his load, or, if a man were on his 
 back, doing his level best to annihilate him. It 
 was truly wonderful to study the metamor- 
 phosis that had been wrought in the little crea- 
 ture, and I have more to tell you of Diablo's 
 changed mind later on in my story. 
 
 Aaron returned, having completed the pur- 
 chase of the desired articles, and we at once 
 moved over to the store where the things were, 
 
268 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 and gave our expectant quadrupeds *' a glorious 
 blow out, fit to make the critters happy for a 
 week," as Aaron emphatically declared. 
 
 While our broncos and mules were quietly 
 and amicably discussing their breakfast from one 
 large box (Aaron had taught them by some 
 wonderful lessons of mutual forbearance not to 
 snap at each other, and so waste half their food) 
 we made a sumptuous repast from a large loaf 
 of bread, two immense tin cups of hot coffee, 
 and a couple of tins of the ubiquitous, yet ever 
 welcome, sardine. 
 
 While we and our animals were thus pleas- 
 antly employed, there was a bustle at the '' Last 
 Chance Hotel," and from the door of that gay 
 hostelry ten or a dozen men issued, not noisily 
 hilarious, as is usually the case when men emerge 
 from such abodes, but quietly and steadily, 
 like men having serious business on hand. Our 
 store-keeper (who had become quite friendly 
 with Aaron since he had made a considerable 
 number of purchases that morning, and incident- 
 ally with me since he perceived that Aaron and 
 I were mates) explained the cause of the silent 
 gathering at the " Last Chance Hotel." 
 
 It appeared that on the previous day there 
 had been a large gathering at the " Hotel " of 
 
AND DIABLO 269 
 
 men from the surrounding country, to celebrate 
 some one of America's wonderful days. Of 
 course everybody was armed, and in the midst 
 of the hilarity two men — who had not met for 
 more than a year — renewed some old-time 
 quarrel, and after high words there was a shoot- 
 ing ''scrape" — as the store-keeper designated 
 the trouble — and one of the disputants was 
 shot to death upon the spot. 
 
 '* They were both dashed high school men," 
 said our friend, "and quarrelled upon some 
 point of larnin', and men never forget them sort 
 of disruptions. But they won't shoot any more 
 after to-day, you bet ! " 
 
 Our store-keeper explained that there had 
 been a proper jury trial, of which the bar-keeper, 
 who was also landlord, was chosen foreman 
 because he was the only quite sober man 
 present. A bar-keeper in those parts must be 
 a teetotaler, or he soon gets fired (as they call 
 dismissal in that land of appropriate words). 
 
 The evidence was so clear against the shooter 
 that he hadn't a word to say for himself, even 
 if he had been sober enough to say it, which he 
 wasn't, poor chap ! 
 
 *' So he was condemned to death," said our 
 store-keeper. *' And the Boys are going to fix 
 
270 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 him now, and then put the two men in the 
 same grave as it will save labour, and," he 
 added with a touch of grim humour, ''there 
 won't be any fear of the men quarrelling any 
 more, even though they are within reach of 
 each other." 
 
 Aaron and I were just finishing our repast 
 when the store-keeper was called outside. He 
 came back in a few minutes with rather a 
 shamefaced expression on his usually stern, 
 immovable old face. He first looked closely at 
 me, then at Aaron, and said in an apologetic 
 sort of voice, quite different from his former 
 dashing, free-and-easy tone : 
 
 " Gentlemen, the Boys have sent over to 
 ask if either of you have a Bible, as they wish 
 to read a chapter, just to make everything quite 
 correct, and proper like." 
 
 I thought this a good chance to put in a 
 word for the poor drunken fool who had done 
 the shooting. So I said " Wouldn't it be better 
 to hand this man over to justice, and let the 
 law take its course ? " But the store-keeper had 
 his answer swift and pat. 
 
 ** Lor' bless you, friend! there ain't any law 
 or justice hereabouts! The nearest 'Justice,' as 
 you call him, lives at the Forks, and that 's two 
 
AND DIABLO 271 
 
 hundred miles if it 's a rod. And the last shooter 
 we sent over he let him go scot free because we 
 called him 'Dead-Drop-Dan' down here, and 
 it turned out that his real name was ' Daniel 
 Dropper ' — that's law, siree ! But we don't have 
 no use for that kind of justice in Full-Moon 
 City! Not much, you bet!" 
 
 '* But have either of you gentlemen a Bible, 
 please ? for there isn't one in this town since a 
 mean Pike ^ stole our'n from the ' Last Chance ' 
 office, where it was kept to settle religious 
 disputes, or for unfortunate cases like the 
 present." 
 
 Now it so happened that Aaron and I had 
 each a Bible in our kit. Aaron never by any 
 means read any other book, and he knew 
 his Bible intimately from cover to cover, and 
 could give text and verse much more quickly 
 than I could even with the help of the concord- 
 ance which was in mine, so I asked Aaron to 
 produce his Bible if it would bring any comfort 
 to the wretched man who was soon to be 
 launched into the unknown. 
 
 Aaron presented the Book to the assembly, 
 but none seemed ready to undertake the task 
 
 A term applied to a poor white man in the southern 
 states of America. 
 
272 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 of reading when they had got it. After a little 
 awkward pause, there was a general request 
 that Aaron himself should read. I feared that 
 this would nonplus my friend. But without a 
 moment's hesitation he opened the Bible and 
 read quite slowly and distinctly the last chap- 
 ter in the New Testament — perhaps the most 
 beautiful and touching chapter in the whole 
 Bible. 
 
 Aaron read, as he spoke, with the quaint 
 old-fashioned New England drawl; and the 
 group of roughish men seemed more or less 
 touched as they quietly listened, with bowed 
 heads and hats off, perhaps thinking of boy- 
 hood's vanished years, the old homestead, and 
 a mother's loving care and teaching. 
 
 When Aaron finished reading, the men asked 
 him to leave his Bible with them, saying they 
 would pay him whatever price he deemed pro- 
 per to ask. But this Aaron explained was im- 
 possible, as it was the gift of his mother, and 
 he had carried it carefully all his life. The men 
 looked glum and disappointed, but at this crisis 
 I came forward and said that I would be much 
 pleased if they would accept my Bible, and I 
 could replace it when I got into civilized parts. 
 At this the landlord of the " Last Chance" spoke 
 
AND DIABLO 273 
 
 up, and seemed to voice the sentiments of the 
 whole community, for they all murmured assent. 
 
 '' Stranger," said the landlord, '' Full-Moon 
 City thanks you down to the ground for your 
 real generous and muchly valued gift!" (*' Hear, 
 hear! " from several men.) " But when you men- 
 tioned about getting to civilized parts by and 
 by, we think you made a mistake — for you are 
 in civilized parts now, and don't you forgit it. 
 If we haven't got the doggoned howling swells 
 of Paris, London, and New York, with all their 
 bad ways, so much the worse for them, and we 
 can do very well without 'em. We air a plain, 
 simple people, with plain old-fashioned customs 
 and laws, and we run this city on them lines, 
 and we want ter know what 's the matter, any- 
 how!" There was another emphatic chorus of 
 approval, at which the landlord seemed much 
 pleased, for he invited all hands to drink ere 
 they proceeded with what he termed " their 
 duties as citizens of Full-Moon City." 
 
 Aaron and I were politely included in the 
 invitation, and as it is a deadly insult in the 
 West to refuse a drink, of course we promptly 
 accepted, and I found myself standing at the 
 bar alongside of the unfortunate man who was 
 the principal in the strange assembly! He was 
 
274 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 drinking a double portion, which no doubt had 
 been provided by the kindly landlord in recog- 
 nition of the man's trying position. 
 
 The only one who did not participate in the 
 *' Last Chance " hospitality was the silent form 
 rolled in his blankets, lying on a roughly made 
 hand-bier, and utterly regardless of that life 
 and excitement of which he was an interested 
 member only yesterday ! 
 
 After the refreshment the men formed up, 
 three on each side of the bier. Immediately in 
 rear of the dead man marched the criminal, 
 placed there as chief mourner, I suppose, which 
 no doubt he was. The rest of the citizens 
 marched two and two, forming a long funeral 
 cortege, which slowly wound its way out of the 
 *'city" on a trail which led to a muddy creek 
 and some straggling, half-dead trees. Arrived 
 at these the procession halted in perfect silence. 
 A man very expeditiously threw a stout lariat 
 over the lower limb of a tree, and then proceeded 
 to put the noose over the condemned man's 
 neck. At that moment an Indian squaw rushed 
 with a wild unearthly scream into the crowd of 
 men, and with a quick dexterous jerk threw the 
 rope off the man's neck, and with one arm 
 clasping his shoulder, she turned and faced us, 
 
AND DIABLO 275 
 
 waving her disengaged hand as she cried in 
 broken EngHsh: 
 
 ** Listen all yous men of Full-Moon! Yous 
 all knows me, ' Dawenda ' ! Yous knows that she 
 am a Chiefs daughter, and yous knows that her 
 father never killed one man from your town ! 
 And once when the Piutes on warpath, my 
 father's voice alone saved Full-Moon from a 
 heap of cinders and dead men! I knows always 
 that if my poor man go to your town and drink 
 firewater there would trouble come! I pray him 
 not go, but yous all knows when white man hears 
 of firewater he go to hell for it. I have hidden 
 in the sage-brush for five days. Three days no 
 eat, no drink, I watch for my man! Now if yous 
 kills my man, I swear by your God, I shall kill 
 me! " And she drew a shining bowie-knife from 
 her silk sash, and looked fiercely and steadily at 
 the group of rather nonplussed men. Then she 
 went on. 
 
 "If yous let my poor fool-man go this time, a 
 chiefs daughter promise yous now that if my 
 man go to yous town again I go too, and if he 
 drink firewater once — I kills him sure, and yous 
 not gets no trouble ! My father is chief of the 
 Piute nation. They are a few and weak people, 
 but they were once a great nation and a strong 
 
276 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 people, and when they go upon the warpath 
 they still know how to kill and how to die." 
 
 There was a dead silence after the startling 
 invasion of this amazon, with her wild gestures 
 and eloquent harangue. The condemned man 
 stood perfectly quiet and passive, apparently 
 utterly oblivious to the terrible importance of 
 the swiftly passing moments and events. 
 
 It was evidently puzzling the minds of the 
 rough men — unaccustomed to the finer senti- 
 ments of human passion — just what course to 
 pursue under the changed circumstances brought 
 about by the advent of a wild, fierce, handsome, 
 and withal a woman in deadly earnest. They 
 all knew enough of Indian character to feel cer- 
 tain that if they proceeded with the execution 
 the woman would kill herself, in which event 
 (and doubtless the squaw was shrewd enough 
 to jalouse what was passing in the men's minds) 
 the city of Full-Moon would suffer a raid from 
 the Indians. And beside that danger the evil 
 memory would cling to every one of them that 
 they had caused the death of a woman, which 
 has always been held one of the worst crimes in 
 Western ethics, even if the woman were only a 
 squaw! That is, if it happened in a time of 
 peace : if it were a time of war for land, then 
 
AND DIABLO 277 
 
 the old rule held good always, "that a dead 
 Indian was the only good Indian," either man, 
 woman, or child. 
 
 In this dilemma the crowd in their perplexity 
 turned to the landlord of the '' Last Chance," 
 who, if not legally, was virtually Mayor of Full- 
 Moon City. He, with a fine self-reliance (and 
 he really was a fine brave-looking man when 
 he stood up and tackled anything seriously) 
 stepped to the front and delivered himself of 
 the following incontrovertible piece of wisdom : 
 
 '' Men, ye air in a mean fix! And when men 
 git into a tarnation fix they better git out of it 
 in a hurry, or they git hurt. My advice is that 
 you better take that there lariat off the tree and 
 follow me to home, after ye have buried that 
 there Stiff! You don't need any more religion 
 for him, our friend here did what was proper by 
 reading the beautifullest chapter I ever heard." 
 There was a general response of " Thet s so ! " 
 
 Then turning to the man who had had such 
 a narrow escape, he said, '' Professor, go with 
 your squaw who has saved your checks this 
 call. But you better mind that if ever you set 
 foot in my bar I will drop you on sight, and 
 don't you forgit it. For I am a man of my 
 word and never disappoint nobody. Besides 
 
278 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 you hev given good men a heap of trouble this 
 time, an' we'll mind." 
 
 The released man neither by word nor sign 
 showed the slightest relief or excitement. As a 
 rule I have noticed that these Western men 
 seem to have imbibed much of the Indian im- 
 mobility of character, which is by no means 
 callousness, but simply a wonderful self-control. 
 
 The fellow turned calmly away, without a 
 word or sign, and slowly wended his way up 
 the canyon, with his squaw walking close beside 
 him, and I think quietly w^eeping, but taking 
 good care not to let us see her emotion. 
 
 The men soon completed the burial of '' that 
 Stiff," as the landlord briefly designated the 
 silent figure who was utterly wordless, unheed- 
 ing, careless to all the turmoil and excitement 
 around him, which, curious paradox! was actu- 
 ally caused by his unheeding carelessness to it all. 
 
 That night Aaron and I slept at the '' Last 
 Chance," and I rather suspect that the landlord 
 gave us his only bed. The caravansary was 
 merely equipped to afford refreshment to the 
 inner man, and when the inner man was ap- 
 peased, the wayfarer was supposed to betake 
 himself to the trail, or if too sleepy for that, then 
 to the kindly shelter of the sage-brush. But our 
 
AND DIABLO 279 
 
 landlord would not allow us to depart that 
 evening. It would have been too much like 
 coach-horse hospitality, viz., a kick and a bucket 
 of water. So he set his Chinese man-of-all-work 
 to cook a supper for us, and a very good repast 
 the celestial got up. And the best of it all was 
 that our landlord would not take a cent from us 
 for all his generous hospitality. 
 
 Next morning, as we were preparing to start, 
 the citizens collected to wish us God-speed and 
 farewell. Before mounting our steeds, and when 
 I thought all the citizens were assembled, I pre- 
 sented them with the Bible I had previously 
 promised. There was a general expression of 
 hearty thanks and the Book was at once placed 
 for safe keeping in the little office where the 
 landlord kept his accounts and money under 
 lock and key. 
 
 As Aaron and I were busy with our horses 
 and getting our packs adjusted for a start, I 
 did not take much notice of what the men were 
 doing or saying. But presently there was a 
 hush, and then I noticed that a table had been 
 placed before the door, and on it was arranged 
 a fine display of money, all in twenty-five cent 
 pieces. The landlord himself stood by the table, 
 and the motley company of citizens were grouped 
 
28o WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 around in various picturesque attitudes and 
 attire. 
 
 "Stranger," said our host, addressing me in 
 a quiet steady voice, but loud enough for all 
 hands to hear, " Stranger, we citizens of Full- 
 Moon City beg to give you our thanks for the 
 handsome Bible you have presented to us. We 
 really wish to thank you down to the ground 
 for the generous gift. We have been feeling 
 quite left-handed and uneasy since that ugly 
 Pike stole our late lamented, as the newspaper 
 chaps say. It was a strange thing for a Pike to 
 steal! You would think that a bottle of whisky 
 would have been more in his line than a Bible, 
 but I suppose he was a religious man — though 
 he was a Pike — and w^anted to have the book 
 along for safety. 
 
 " Now, Stranger, we wish to present to you a 
 Bible in return, and for this purpose we have 
 subscribed twenty-five dollars and wish you to 
 buy the best Book obtainable for that sum when 
 you reach civilization. You will notice that the 
 twenty-five dollars are all in quarters. But that 
 is not because we have no bigger money, it is 
 because all hands wanted to contribute, and 
 when I counted noses I found there were just 
 one hundred of those human appendages pre- 
 
AND DIABLO 
 
 2«I 
 
 sent, and our quarters exactly make up the 
 sum required." 
 
 I have transcribed the landlord's neat speech 
 as nearly as I could remember and record it an 
 hour after it was delivered, but I cannot give 
 properly his Western way of expressing himself, 
 which was much more effective and touching 
 than my way. 
 
 When he handed me the dollars securely tied 
 up in a strong little canvas bag, he also gave 
 me a sheet of paper which he said the citizens 
 wished me to place on the front page of the 
 Bible I purchased, I to fill in my own name in 
 the space left for that purpose. 
 
 '' We citizens of Full-Moon City present this 
 
 Bible to . And we hope that he will be 
 
 safely preserved in them civilized parts where- 
 unto he is bound. Amen." 
 
 I mounted my bronco, and from that vantage 
 made as pretty a speech as I could muster up 
 at the moment. Then I had to hold my horse 
 quite still while the whole crowd of men one by 
 one calmly shook my right hand and passed on 
 their way silently and solemnly, as if they were 
 engaged in some religious ceremony. When all 
 had passed, and the landlord, being the very 
 last of the procession, had said '' So long, 
 
282 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 strangers!" Aaron and I took our way slowly 
 and quietly up the mountain trail, in a strangely 
 subdued sort of fashion, as if the events of the 
 last two days had added another burden to the 
 sorrow and to the mystery of life. 
 
 We were unusually silent for several days 
 after the Full-Moon City episode, and hardly 
 made any comments anent the city and its 
 citizens. Once when I referred to their peculiar 
 ways, and their abrupt mode of justice, Aaron 
 remarked : 
 
 " It 's mostly the effect of them doggont dry 
 climates. Neither steel nor men's souls rust out 
 here, and therefore folk are always on edge, 
 and their feehn's carry them away, and they 
 jump before they look, an' then there 's trouble 
 all round. But we are told that ' The Lord 
 seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the 
 outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on 
 the heart.' And I guess all them Western sort 
 of folk ain't as rough in their hearts as they 
 look outside, and so it's a mighty good job 
 that God and not man is to judge us all at last." 
 
AND DIABLO 283 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 AN OASIS IN THE DESERT 
 
 When Aaron and I looked our last on Full- 
 Moon City, the warm afternoon sun was casting 
 its glowing rays on yellow cliffs, bare verdure- 
 less plains, and rugged ravines. Absolute silence 
 reigned. Not a whisper of wind, not a sound or 
 cry of man, beast, or bird disturbed the utter 
 silence of the weird spot where had lately been 
 enacted one of the mysterious, ceaseless tra- 
 gedies of sorrow and pain, life and death, that 
 have troubled and confused poor erring mortals 
 from the beginning. 
 
 We followed the trail that led past the ghastly 
 pine tree — silent witness of the uncompleted 
 tragedy of yesterday — and then over the sun- 
 scorched ridge where the Professor and his 
 squaw silently took their way from their very 
 close call at the gates of death. And so on, day 
 after day, we plodded leisurely through sage- 
 brush gullies, and utterly barren hills, only rest- 
 ing for a day or two here and there, wherever we 
 struck water. At last, much to our satisfaction, 
 
284 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 we sighted from a hill-top the south fork of the 
 San Juan River. We knew that we could not 
 reach the river that day, and as we were looking 
 for a place to camp after an unusually hard day 
 of dust and heat, we came upon a sight that was 
 extra refreshing to our desert-wearied eyes, 
 namely, a beautiful plantation of Indian corn 
 just at that splendid stage of its growth when 
 the plant is beginning to tassel — one of the 
 loveliest and most useful of all the cereal crops 
 in the world. 
 
 The plantation was perhaps forty or fifty 
 acres in extent, and lay so low (as I learned 
 later, for we had a happy rest here of several 
 days) that a skilfully constructed aqueduct had 
 been made which brought water from the river 
 on to the only bit of possibly cultivatable land 
 in the midst of miles and miles of utterly barren 
 rocks and sand. This only available bit of land 
 had been made the most of, trees had been 
 planted at intervals around the grain land, but 
 not near enough for their roots to do much 
 damage to the corn crop. 
 
 The irrigated land was carefully and skilfully 
 managed, and the resultant crops abundant. The 
 cultivatable land was neatly subdivided into 
 various sized fields according to the lay of the 
 
AND DIABLO 285 
 
 ground, as it was absolutely necessary to have 
 each field perfectly level so as to irrigate all 
 equally. Every field was bounded by a narrow, 
 but strong, stone dyke with sluices into the ad- 
 joining fields to admit or discharge water as 
 required at planting or harvesting. All these 
 facts, and many more interesting things, we 
 learned during many subsequent pleasant days 
 spent at the village. 
 
 The huts and spacious caves where the people 
 had their abodes were immediately above the 
 irrigated land, where they were sheltered by 
 the dry hills at back, and by the trees in front. 
 There were only about two hundred souls alto- 
 gether in the village, so it did not make a very 
 imposing appearance. But in this world safety 
 often lies in obscurity, and, alas! for the unfor- 
 tunate reds, this has been lamentably true when- 
 ever they have, to their sorrow, foregathered 
 with the whites. 
 
 As Aaron and I were quietly passing through 
 the village a dog gave us a noisy salute, and a 
 woman came out of a hut; and although she 
 was handsome enough in an Indian fashion, her 
 expression was by no means benignant as she 
 drew herself up and scowled upon us. I suppose 
 I must have conveyed by a glance to Aaron 
 
286 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 something of what I felt, for he said in a low- 
 tone: 
 
 " The redskins don't love white people, an' 
 it's no doggon'd wonder!" 
 
 While we hesitated which trail to take 
 through the cluster of wigwams, a white man 
 joined the woman, and they held some whis- 
 pered communication with each other — evi- 
 dently concerning us, for the woman never 
 withdrew for a moment her wild eyes from 
 Aaron and me. I dismounted and held my 
 bridle over my arm as I politely accosted the 
 pair, asking them which trail we should take to 
 reach the best ford of the San Juan. The woman 
 pointed to some bare sandy hills northward, but 
 never said a word ; however I inferred from her 
 action that she understood my question. 
 
 I was about to remount my bronco, con- 
 cluding by their manner that the silent couple 
 did not desire to hold even the briefest converse 
 with us, when the man came forward and, 
 politely proffering his hand in salute, said : 
 
 '' Sir, I suppose you are one of the few ad- 
 venturous travellers who prefer unfrequented 
 trails to the commonplace ways of the race — 
 luxurious palace cars, ten thousand-ton steam- 
 ships, coffee and polished shoes every morning, 
 
AND DIABLO 287 
 
 and so forth. I am the only paleface in this 
 small fragment of a once numerous tribe. I 
 have no position of authority or influence with 
 the redskins excepting for the fact that I am 
 the Sachem's son-in-law, and he does me the 
 honour to consult me upon all matters outside 
 the immediate management of the tribe. In 
 short I may explain my perhaps too extended 
 introductory remarks by saying that I am the 
 consulting Minister of Foreign Affairs. The 
 Sachem (astutely considering that the white 
 man does not yet exist who understands pro- 
 perly the subtile character of that ancient race 
 with whom Cain cast in his lot, and whose 
 descendants the red men are) manages the 
 intricate internal department himself. But to 
 revert to the pressing subject of the moment, 
 which I ought to have attended to at first (as 
 Abraham like a true gentleman instantly did), 
 allow me to suggest that if you wish to resus- 
 citate your animals, and rest yourselves, I can 
 provide the former with provender and the safe 
 retreat of our corral, and yourself and companion 
 with the repose and comfort of our wigwam, 
 and such entertainment as humble folk can 
 provide." 
 
 All the time that he was speaking I rather 
 
288 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 rudely stared at the man in blank amazement, 
 not only for the wording and tone of the little 
 speech delivered by one of the despised, and 
 generally worthless, squawmen, but also for the 
 dim consciousness that I had met the man be- 
 fore; but when or where utterly escaped my 
 memory. At that moment, with the true feeling 
 and simplicity of the gentleman he was in his 
 soul, Aaron, guessing the quandary I was in, 
 came to my rescue by saying quietly, but quite 
 audibly enough to be heard by the man : 
 
 " I vote that we take the Professor's kind 
 invite! We will all be the better for a good rest, 
 and. Diablo and the others are all saying ditto" ; 
 and curiously enough the wise little mule gave 
 a cheerful, low grunt, which sounded remarkably 
 like happy acquiescence. 
 
 Until Aaron said "Professor" I had been 
 puzzling without success to recall when or where 
 I had seen this strange squawman before. His 
 voice and language recalled nothing to my mind; 
 in fact his well chosen words and pleasantly 
 modulated voice only added to my mystification, 
 for these attributes are not very commonly met 
 with on the alkali plains of Arizona. But when 
 Aaron gave me the key to the solution by ad- 
 dressing the man as " Professor," I had him 
 
AND DIABLO 289 
 
 placed in an instant in my mind's eye as the 
 silent, condemned man of the Full-Moon City 
 episode, who had escaped death by the skin of 
 his teeth, or rather I should say by his squaw's 
 energetic interference on his behalf. 
 
 ***** 
 Without more ado we gratefully took the 
 turning which the Professor indicated, and pre- 
 sently found ourselves in a nice little corral 
 with a partition in the middle, and the Professor 
 intimated that the unoccupied division was at 
 our service. It was a very snug place indeed 
 for the comfort and security of animals. The 
 whole corral was covered with a framework of 
 strong timber over which were fastened palm 
 fronds and pine tops as a shelter from the 
 scorchinof summer sun and bitter winter wind. 
 At one end, in a portion securely enclosed from 
 too greedy mules and horses, there was a large 
 corn-bin, and a place to hang up saddles and 
 other horse gear, and the Professor indicated 
 that we should put all our horse furniture there. 
 I suppose I must have looked a bit doubtful for 
 the safety of the tempting things in such an 
 exposed place in the middle of an Indian village 
 — there was no sign of a lock, only a cross bar 
 on the door — and no doubt the Professor must 
 
290 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 have noticed my suspicious expression, for he 
 promptly said: 
 
 '' We don't steal in this village; we have other 
 flaws of character, but we never steal." 
 
 So we put our horse-gear in the place as 
 directed, and having made our animals comfort- 
 able, at his invitation we followed the Professor 
 into his wigwam, which was just the ordinary 
 Indian abode of the permanent sort. But it 
 was more comfortable than the general run of 
 such places, having good glass windows, instead 
 of the usual little wooden port-holes, a spacious 
 front room used for general purposes, and two 
 smaller inner chambers, one of which the Pro- 
 fessor and his wife, Dawenda, assigned to Aaron 
 and me. In the large front room the fire-place 
 was, as is customiary in Indian dwellings, exactly 
 in the middle of the clay floor, with an aperture 
 in the roof for the escape of the smoke. 
 Dawenda's wigwam was in much better order 
 than the ordinary run of Indian abodes. Instead 
 of the usual higgledy-piggledy confusion which 
 seems inherent to the red man's or red woman's 
 domestic menage, there was a pleasing arrange- 
 ment noticeable, as if there was a place for 
 everything, and everything in its place — as the 
 sailors say. This was so apparent not only to 
 
AND DIABLO 291 
 
 me, but even to Aaron — long accustomed as 
 he was to the rough-and-tumble life of the 
 wilderness — that I was surprised when he re- 
 marked in his quaint way, as he looked around 
 our limited, but strictly clean, quarters : 
 
 " I guess the Professor struck luck when he 
 found Dawenda, though she can flare up at 
 times! But that is the sort that some soft men 
 need, and I calculate if it hadn't been for his 
 wife the Professor's checks would have gone in 
 that day at Full-Moon City." 
 
 In a little while the lady herself called to us, 
 in a remarkably pleasant voice — very different 
 from the voice I remembered addressing the 
 citizens of Full-Moon. 
 
 '* Come," she called, '* come — to — eat ! " That 
 was how the woman spoke English in her calm 
 moods. Exactly like a child repeating its lesson. 
 And I have noticed this slow monotonous mode 
 of pronunciation frequently among the coloured 
 races when they acquire a partial knowledge of 
 English after they have reached maturity. 
 
 From a pan by the fire Dawenda gave each 
 of us a nice looking, and a still nicer tasting, 
 dish of parched Indian corn, and a delicious 
 spatch-cock, done to a turn. The lady — Indian 
 fashion — did the honours of the feast, but ate 
 
292 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 not a morsel herself until after her husband 
 and his guests had appeased their appetites ; and 
 it takes an astounding quantity to accomplish 
 that after a long fast in those dry, healthy 
 latitudes. 
 
 Aaron and I soon became accustomed to our 
 surroundings, and passed the time of our sojourn 
 with the Professor and Dawenda pleasantly 
 enough. Aaron had some repairs to do to our 
 personal effects and horse-gear, while the Pro- 
 fessor's reminiscences, and reflections thereon, 
 were an endless source of entertainment and 
 profitable instruction to me. 
 
 Before the Professor and I parted he told me 
 his full name, and some other matters which I 
 am not at liberty to disclose : but this does not 
 at all interfere with the sequence or sense of his 
 reminiscences. These, told in his own simple 
 inimitable manner, were of absorbing interest 
 to me, and I think that even in their mutilated 
 form they will be of interest to some other souls 
 who may be vainly seeking to solve the in- 
 solvable mysteries of our common human nature. 
 
 Our method of life at Yellow Bluffs — that 
 was the name of the village — was somewhat as 
 follows: after our light morning repast, taken 
 shortly after daybreak, Aaron would betake 
 
AND DIABLO 293 
 
 himself to his various jobs, and the Professor 
 and I would sally forth for a stroll around the 
 cornfields, resting at times under the fine trees 
 which were scattered at convenient distances 
 all over the property. These trees were never 
 planted too near the corn lest their roots should 
 injure the crops ; still near enough to allow the 
 very tips to draw life from the *'Holy water," 
 as I always felt impelled to call water in those 
 regions under the curse of ceaseless, deadly 
 drouorht ! 
 
 Always before he went out of a morning the 
 Professor did two things; and one of them he 
 did quite openly, '* and was not ashamed " : he 
 kissed his wife heartily, telling her where we 
 were going, and when we would return. On 
 these occasions it was both beautiful and touch- 
 ing to see how the simple squaw would blush like 
 a young girl, and her black eyes sparkle with a 
 wonderful splendour! The other thing that 
 he did was to slip rather surreptitiously into 
 some one of his ample pockets one of several 
 medium-sized volumes which constituted his 
 library. This library comprised among others 
 the New Testament in Greek, Homer's Iliad 
 ditto, Josephus, the Old Testament, and three 
 small volumes of Shakespeare, in English. 
 
294 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 Then we would wander along, the Professor 
 examining irrigation matters, the ingress and 
 egress of the numerous little gates which regu- 
 lated the supply of the life-giving fluid to each 
 field. I learned afterwards that it was no wonder 
 the Professor took a deep interest in the proper 
 adjustment of the water, for he it was who had 
 arranged the intricate system from its inception 
 to its successful completion. Not only did he 
 do this, but he made a dangerous and very 
 wearisome journey to the proper authorities to 
 legally pre-empt the square mile allowed by 
 law. Otherwise — as had happened to the foolish 
 redskins before — after they got a place into 
 good shape, some enterprising explorer on the 
 look-out to better himself and his interesting 
 family would quietly slip in and take possession 
 of the nicely irrigated spot! And the whole 
 world, or as much of it as heard of the clever 
 incident, would loudly applaud the enterprising 
 citizen, and congratulate themselves on the 
 satisfactory advance oi freedo^n 2Sid. civilization, 
 Alas, my fellow Christians ! as I think of it all 
 there comes into my mind the brave Madame 
 Roland's apostrophe to the goddess whom men 
 so blaspheme by their conduct : '' O liberty, 
 what crimes are committed in thy name!" 
 
AND DIABLO 295 
 
 One day the Professor gave me a most touch- 
 ing synopsis of his life. And ever since that 
 revelation of the man's nobility, and alas, 
 degradation, I have held his history secretly re- 
 corded in the log-book of my heart, among 
 many other tender memories of the past. The 
 Professor has now passed beyond the reach 
 of praise or blame. But I am still bound to 
 preserve his name in the strictest incognito: 
 therefore I shall continue to use the old, familiar, 
 honourable appellation to which I am accus- 
 tomed, and to which he was entitled, the name 
 1 always used in all our intercourse — an inter- 
 course which was altogether delightful and 
 instructive to me, in spite of its sad commence- 
 ment at Fuil-Moon City. 
 
 On a calm delicious day in the early spring, 
 when the Professor and I were reading and 
 comparing his Greek Testament with the 
 Authorized Version— or I should say he was 
 reading the Greek and giving me its exact 
 meaning in English — we gradually drifted into 
 comparing notes on the learning and methods 
 of the ancients and the moderns — and I may 
 say not much to the glorification of the latter. 
 Something cropped up in our study of the 
 never solved mysteries of life, and the dire 
 
296 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 influence of the grosser bodily power of our 
 human nature over the purer spiritual power of 
 our souls; something I said seemed to awaken 
 sleeping memories of the past, for the Professor 
 closed his book with a snap, put it in his pocket, 
 and said : 
 
 '' Now I will give you a little history on this 
 momentous subject which may assist you to 
 find the right trail amid the many pitfalls of 
 life, although it is too late for me to tak tent!' 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE professor's REMINISCENCES 
 
 *' Fifty-two years ago," said the Professor, " I 
 made my debut as a mewling atom of humanity, 
 in the old seaport town of New Haven. In 
 those days, and in those parts, men and women 
 were altogether a different kind of people from 
 what they are nowadays. They were absolutely 
 honest, absolutely truthful, and withal absolutely 
 orthodox in doctrine. Here or there might be 
 found a man or woman who deviated from the 
 accepted standard, but then one might also find 
 a person who had gone raving mad, and had to 
 
AND DIABLO 297 
 
 be taken to the lunatic asylum in Boston. But 
 a case of either sort was of extremely rare 
 occurrence. 
 
 " My undistinguished ancestors had been, or 
 I should rather say were (for people lived long 
 in those days) of the sort ' that go down to the 
 sea in ships.' And the wonderful and terrible 
 ocean has been my passion and delight since 
 babyhood. But like so many other things which 
 mortals passionately prize and love, I have had 
 less companionship with the sea than most 
 people. For excepting my voyage to Europe 
 — to absorb the combined wisdom of the world 
 at the renowned brain- work show of Heidelberg, 
 and the return voyage to mine own land, I have 
 never been on that strange element which con- 
 stitutes the greater part of our globe — that 
 weird element which has defied with scorn all 
 the mental and physical power of man to control. 
 And only One, in all the countless ages of this 
 distraught planet, has commanded its rage to 
 cease, and been instantly obeyed! 
 
 "It is sorrowful to observe the passionate 
 desire of my countrymen and countrywomen, 
 especially of the humbler sort, for that which is 
 supposed to be education of the mind, but which 
 is merely a process of stuffing the brain of youth 
 
298 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 with a useless and injurious compound, just as a 
 cook spoils a wholesome tomato with a lot of 
 indigestible, useless stuff. Both processes are 
 only a perverted usage of good things in these 
 modern days of visionary ideals. The highest 
 and the best minds begin to perceive their 
 mistake, and wish to return to the simple and 
 true lines which made strong, brave, industrious 
 men, and happy, virtuous women. But there is 
 no returning on the road of life, the strongest 
 and bravest are trodden to death if they do not 
 keep step with the mob and worship the fetish 
 they have set up. 
 
 " After my return from the filibustering raid 
 upon the Solons of Europe, I was offered, and 
 accepted, the Chair of Philosophy in my Alma 
 Mater. This was, of course, a great honour for 
 one without a '' pull " — that is the classical term 
 in modern language, I believe — and was, more- 
 over, a great triumph and happiness to my 
 father and mother. Ah! if the dear souls had 
 only known at what an expense of nerve and 
 brain stamina I had won the useless battle, it 
 would have broken their self-sacrificing hearts. 
 But, thank God, they fell into the last, long, 
 dreamless sleep in blessed ignorance of my less 
 than useless triumph. 
 
AND DIABLO 299 
 
 '' You must understand that I am only telling 
 you of my own weak self. But if it were neces- 
 sary, or would serve any useful purpose, I could 
 tell you history after history of human wreckage 
 caused by perverted methods of cultivating the 
 mind of youth, that would harrow your soul 
 with horror. Half the misery of life is the result 
 of weakened intellect and lost will-power caused 
 by the very system which foolish mortals have 
 declared the panacea which will open men's 
 eyes and make them like gods — as the wily 
 serpent persuaded poor foolish Eve — whereas 
 we are told on the highest authority that ' the 
 wisdom of this world is foolishness with God/ 
 
 '' The man I killed at Full-Moon City was 
 my bosom friend. We had studied together at 
 Heidelberg, and had been more or less com- 
 panions ever since. But through our weakened 
 nervous systems we both fell victims to the 
 demon alcohol, and at last, after many quarrels, 
 we quarrelled to the death over a silly Latinism 
 which an average school-boy would have ex- 
 plained in five minutes. 
 
 ** Of course, long before this sorrow, which 
 has darkened my life, happened, both my friend 
 and I had lost touch with what is called civiliza- 
 tion — man's great achievement, and that which 
 
300 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 cherishes with tender assiduity the demon that 
 has been our undoing. Then we naturally took 
 Greely's advice: * Go West, young man, go 
 West!' But, alas, we went without the energy 
 and hope which turn that good advice to profit. 
 Instead of that we went with the loafer's aimless 
 method of passing a worthless life. We had 
 neither means nor plans. Sometimes we would 
 get a ride from a compassionate teamster, and 
 sometimes we would manage to get a lift for 
 several miles awkwardly balanced on the girders 
 under railway carriages. But that was not only 
 an uneasy, but also a dangerous mode of travel- 
 ling, for now and then an ill-natured official 
 would let off a pistol to scare us 'fourth-class 
 passengers,' as they called free riders. And 
 sometimes they did more than scare us. There 
 is a mark," said the Professor, baring his arm, 
 *' made by a bullet in that playful fashion! 
 
 '' So my friend and I drifted into the Far 
 West. It was a ruder West then than it is at 
 the present day, and, as you are aware, it is not 
 quite a sinless Arcadia even yet. There were 
 many more aborigines in the country than there 
 are now. But the demoniac curse of the ' devil- 
 in-solution ' which the so-called civilized nations 
 force upon all barbarous people with whom they 
 
AND DIABLO 301 
 
 come in contact, was rapidly solving the Indian 
 question by sending the poor red men out of 
 this world altogether. 
 
 " You see there was a profit both ways. First 
 there was the profit on the whisky, and then 
 there was the profit of getting the red man's 
 country without the bother and expense of 
 blankets, and surveying lands as Indian reserves 
 which only had to be re-taken under some 
 plausible lie or other, when civilized people 
 wanted the lands to settle on. Then, of course, 
 the wild, maddened red men went gathering 
 scalps, poor fools! and the civilized men went 
 after them with all the beautiful modern inven- 
 tions for wholesale slaughter. And presently 
 there was great rejoicing and thanksgiving 
 prayers for deliverance of the civilized people 
 from the awful barbarism of the savages. And 
 the silent stars looked down upon dead men, 
 women, and children. And so the palefaces 
 prospered, and civilization spread apace in the 
 land. 
 
 "Tr -7V^ ■TV' -??- 
 
 ''After an exceedingly aggravating case of 
 ejecting this people, with whom I am now con- 
 nected, from their undoubted rightful land 
 lying along the San Juan River, the tribe 
 
302 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 adopted a safe mode of revenge by secretly 
 killing all whites who fell into their hands, with- 
 out leaving a single mark of violence on the 
 body. Of course, this did not restore their 
 stolen lands, but it afforded their wild hearts a 
 sort of consolation in that it gave the district a 
 bad name among the palefaces as being an 
 unhealthy locality. 
 
 *' My friend and I had parted some time 
 before I fell into the hands of the Piutes. Neither 
 of us could resist the Fiend, and it led to such 
 frequent quarrels that at last, in a thoroughly 
 sober state (for lack of that which had been our 
 undoing) we parted in profound sorrow, but 
 well knowing that it was absolutely our only 
 safe course. 
 
 " Shortly after this lamentable parting I 
 struck the San Juan River, and while I was 
 wandering along the bank seeking for some 
 means of getting over to the southern side, I 
 fell in with an encampment of this very tribe 
 with whom I have been domiciled ever since. 
 As I entered the village, a momentary glance 
 revealed only too plainly to my accustomed 
 senses the scene upon which I had fallen. 
 Several men were lying about in the blazing 
 sunshine in a helpless state of intoxication; 
 
AND DIABLO 303 
 
 others, in a maudlin condition, were quarrelling,, 
 and fighting more or less seriously with each 
 other, or amusing themselves — drunken men's 
 fashion all over the world — by thrashing their 
 women. 
 
 *' As I turned the corner of a wigwam, I came 
 across a man of splendid physique holding a 
 young, delicate-looking woman by the hair, and 
 beating the life out of her with his free fist. It 
 has always touched me with a sort of madness 
 to see a woman struck by a man. I don't mind 
 so much seeing two women at fisticuffs. It is by 
 no means unnatural, and they very rarely injure 
 themselves seriously. It is mostly their head- 
 gear and frills which suffer, especially if these 
 articles are attractive-looking. 
 
 '' On the impulse of the moment I jumped at 
 the man and, without considering consequences, 
 laid him flat with a neat buffet, the art of which 
 I had acquired at Heidelberg — one of the few 
 useful arts I did acquire at that famous institu- 
 tion of learning. 
 
 *' The man lay quiet enough, and I should 
 have passed on and taken no more heed, but,, 
 with wild yells, three or four of the least in- 
 capable of the bacchanalians rushed upon me, 
 and I should have come to an end there and 
 
304 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 then had not the girl I rescued from the big 
 savage come to my assistance. 
 
 ** I have all those bygone happenings recorded 
 in shorthand — which is another of my wasted 
 accomplishments — so I am practically giving 
 you the story item by item exactly as it took 
 place. 
 
 " The girl drew her fine presence to its full 
 height between me and the onrushing fiends, 
 and with a grandeur which our teaching com- 
 pletely obliterates from the children of Nature 
 she warned the fellows off, and they slunk back 
 like corrected children. And I remember quite 
 distinctly thinking at the moment, that it was 
 a fine triumph of mind over matter. I thought 
 then, and — with my added knowledge of red 
 men — I know now, that these men in their 
 drunken fury would have instantly killed me 
 that day, but for the opportune intervention of 
 the brave girl. 
 
 *' ' Go back to your white man's pig's drink. 
 Your chiefs daughter commands you. Begone ! ' 
 '* And the great hulking savages slunk away 
 like whipped hounds, although they were only 
 castigated by the flashing eyes and sharp tongue 
 of a girl. What a pity it is that the palefaces 
 have, by their spurious methods of training 
 
AND DIABLO 305 
 
 youth, obliterated this wholesome sense of 
 shame from their own race! 
 
 ** That was danger number one safely past. 
 But Dawenda — for it was she — had even at 
 that early stage of our acquaintanceship deter- 
 mined to save my life. And I may remark en 
 passant that the swift decision of this Indian 
 girl, and the clever manner in which she carried 
 out her plan, added another proof to my already 
 preconceived opinion that woman, if she is the 
 weaker partner physically, is the wiser and 
 cleverer mentally. And I am convinced that 
 the deplorable failures of civilization have been, 
 and are, gready owing (after, of course, the awful 
 and mysterious power of Satan) to the fact that 
 women have been rigidly debarred from any 
 share in legislation, and the whole management, 
 or rather mismanagement, of government has 
 been jealously kept in the hands of men. Men 
 in the aggregate are stupid, dense, and utterly 
 lack the innate quick perception possessed by 
 women. And, moreover, men are so inordin- 
 ately vain and self-opinionated that they rarely 
 achieve true wisdom, only a kind of superficial 
 flowery claptrap which has been their stock-in- 
 trade from the beginning. Here and there, 
 through the weary ages, a few truly wise men 
 
 X 
 
3o6 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 have appeared from time to time, but so sparsely 
 that the mob soon disposed of them. 
 
 ** Dawenda gave a hurried look to her father 
 (for it was indeed her progenitor I had laid low), 
 and, ascertaining that he was enjoying the pro- 
 found sleep of the drunken, and apparently not 
 suffering at all from my blow — she beckoned 
 me to follow her, saying the one suitable word, 
 ' Come ! ' Dawenda told me, in course of time, 
 that she had learned her little stock of English 
 from an old Franciscan father who taught a little 
 bunch of Indian children according to his lights. 
 
 *' ' Come ! ' repeated the girl rather impera- 
 tively, and I promptly obeyed, somehow feeling 
 in my heart that she was absolutely dependable 
 and true, as I have proved every hour of my 
 life since that memorable day. 
 
 '' Dawenda intimated by word and sign 
 that my life depended upon much haste, and we 
 hurried along for half an hour or so. Then we 
 came to a circular hollow, one of the hollows 
 made by volcanic action when America was 
 building. The place was thinly covered with 
 saofe-brush and scattered rocks. Here Dawenda 
 tore up a young bush by the roots, telling me to 
 do the same, and as we went cautiously along 
 she vigorously whipped on each side, calmy ex- 
 
AND DIABLO 307 
 
 plaining that, " ' too many bad Rattlers in this 
 place. If bite, man dead quick/ 
 
 '' That there were ' too many ' was quite per- 
 ceptible, for as we proceeded the wicked crea- 
 tures scuttled hither and thither with that start- 
 ling rattle which God has provided them with 
 to warn careless men of the horrible things. I 
 have often wondered since that day which made 
 me intimately acquainted with the deadly crea- 
 tures, whether it was a rattler that deceived our 
 mother Eve, and if the fiend played his most 
 melodious tune to further confuse and beguile 
 her innocent soul. Alack-a-day! ' Behold how 
 great a matter a little fire kindleth ! ' 
 
 *' When we had crossed this dangerous ground 
 we entered a low, rocky aperture which gradu- 
 ally expanded into a spacious cave with a curi- 
 ous rent in the roof through which I could dis- 
 cern a little space of blue sky that lightened the 
 cave in a dim sort of fashion when one's eyes 
 became accustomed to the semi-twilight. As 
 usual with such places, the cave was mostly 
 broken into jagged ledges, very difficult to get 
 over, excepting here and there where there 
 happened to be a level piece of ancient lava, as 
 smooth and hard as a pavement of Portland 
 cement. 
 
3o8 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 '* We scrambled along as best we could, until 
 we were nearly under the strange split which 
 admitted the dim light to the cave. And I hope 
 I was duly thankful for even the small portion 
 of that most blessed element the value of which 
 we never quite know until we lose it. Had it not 
 been for the modicum of light mercifully 
 afforded me that day, I would certainly have 
 broken my neck in the treacherous holes and fis- 
 sures, or been cut to pieces by the terrible lava. 
 Of course Dawenda could skip over such places 
 like a wild cat, but I question if even she could 
 have piloted me through the weird place had it 
 not been for the far streak of blessed blue sky. 
 '' At last Dawenda paused in a little clear 
 space in the midst of the piles of lava, and, in- 
 dicating the smooth bit of flooring by a wave 
 of her hand, said: 
 
 *' ' Here you sleep! I go for grub and water. 
 You lie still — Indian no come, he fear Great 
 Spirit. If you go out you die! ' 
 
 " The girl was gone like a flash. And what 
 with excitement, and bodily exertion, feeling 
 dead tired, I spread my poncho and lay down 
 comfortably to await the issue of my adventure. 
 I must have fallen asleep although I did not 
 intend to sleep — but we do many things which 
 
AND DIABLO 309 
 
 we do not intend — for I dreamt a terrible dream 
 about being dead and in my grave without coffin, 
 or covering of any kind, and Indians were 
 lowering a dead man into the same grave! I 
 awoke with (as I thought) a great cry, but I 
 learned afterwards that I made no sound what- 
 ever. When I recovered full consciousness I 
 found Dawenda kneeling beside me, and whis- 
 pering: 
 
 " ' No speak, no move! Indian bring dead man 
 from San Juan, to put in grave. Then go — no 
 come back ! ' 
 
 " I had sense enough to obey Dawenda's 
 whispered admonition, and lay absolutely quiet, 
 but thinking ' sl wheen o' things, ' as your coun- 
 trymen say. 
 
 '* The Indians soon completed their task, and 
 in half an hour or less the last man—or I 
 should rather say, the party, for every man of 
 them took good care not to be the las^, as that 
 is the danger zone when spirits are about — had 
 vanished. After a careful scrutiny, Dawenda 
 declared the coast clear, and I concluded that we 
 were pretty safe then, for I knew enough even 
 at that time of the Indian's dread of spirits to 
 feel certain that the bravest man or woman in 
 the tribe would not linger alone in a burial cave 
 
3IO WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 for all the gold in the West. Perhaps you may 
 say that I am forgetting that Dawenda lingered 
 in that dismal place in defiance of the ghosts 
 which she must have known were watching us 
 from every quarter. But that is another story 
 altogether, and when women, red or white, take 
 to sacrificing themselves — poor things! — there 
 is no limit to their self-immolation. 
 
 *' Dawenda had brought a demijohn of water, 
 a dish of parched corn, and a nicely grilled trout. 
 She spread these luxuries before me, sat down, 
 and said ' Eat! ' This I proceeded to do at once; 
 and although that day is many a long year in 
 the past, yet whenever I taste a trout done over 
 the fire to a turn, I see that great ghostly cave 
 with its uncertain shadows, its sprinkling of 
 light from the high roof, and a beautiful Indian 
 girl watching me with evident satisfaction as I 
 demolish the good things, and she never taking 
 a morsel herself But that is the way with the 
 feminines, and we masculines can only look at 
 them with an incredulous stare, and ejaculate 
 like Noah Claypole, * Lor', how queer!' But it 
 never interferes with our appetites. 
 
 " When I had quite finished my meal, and 
 thanked my hostess, she said ' Good ! ' and pro- 
 ceeded to put things in order. Then from a 
 
AND DIABLO 311 
 
 crevice in the rocks she produced a package 
 wrapped in leaves, and laid it before me, with 
 the following important advice: 
 
 '''This for two eats to-morrow! But if eat 
 little small, more better, then three eats ! water 
 in demijohn for two days, take much care — no 
 water this side San Juan. I go! not come back 
 for two nights, one day! I get old Manitou 
 Teacher make my father good. He much like 
 kill you! very bad thing strike great chief! but 
 Dawenda save you or she die too! ' and the girl 
 turned a pair of flashing eyes upon me, that ac- 
 tually glittered in the dim light. Then with 
 another warning, ' If go anywhere, you lost,' 
 she was gone over the rocks with the lightness 
 of a bird, and I was left to my own delectable 
 company for two nights and a day, as Dawenda 
 had foretold, and they were the longest periods 
 of time I ever spent in my life. 
 
 '' Then to my intense relief, for I verily be- 
 lieve I became half demented with the utter 
 loneliness and terrible silence of the place, the 
 girl, with a happy cry, leapt before me, and I 
 was so overjoyed at her welcome presence that 
 I clasped her in my arms with a glad wild shout 
 that made the echoes reverberate again and 
 again. Dawenda did not struggle or seem to 
 
312 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 resent my rather familiar greeting, and so I 
 kissed her with much satisfaction, although 
 with some sharp qualms of conscience. 
 
 " After a good repast of the nice things 
 Dawenda had again brought, I had the most 
 delicious smoke I ever enjoyed in my life, 
 although it only consisted of the plain tobacco 
 leaf mixed with the peculiarly cured elm bark, 
 Indian fashion. But never in the heyday of 
 youth and glory did the most delicate Latakia 
 appeal with such potency and magic to my 
 olfactory nerves as did that splendid smoke 
 which my good girl had brought, and which 
 at the end of my feast she produced in great 
 triumph, together with flint and steel complete. 
 Here I may remark that completeness is one of 
 my o-ood wife's strong characteristics. If any 
 business has to be done she never leaves the 
 least detail to chance, or luck, as so many fools 
 misname the devil of laziness and procrastina- 
 tion. But indeed these evil qualities were rarely 
 found in the Indian make up before they were 
 transformed into a worthless, lazy lot by our be- 
 lauded civilization. 
 
 "While I was quietly enjoying my pipe, 
 Dawenda unfolded her plans as follows. And 
 although they seemed a bit rash under the cir- 
 
AND DIABLO 313 
 
 cumstances, I instinctively felt that whatever 
 course she advised must be the wisest to pursue. 
 
 " ' Good, you come see the Sachem my father. 
 He much glad his men no kill you that day! He 
 speak me you come his lodge, eat, smoke, sleep, 
 make friends. Come!' 
 
 '' I did not know Indian character then as I 
 do now, and in my white, vain wisdom thought 
 it would be the height of folly to put myself in 
 the power of a drunken bloodthirsty savage! 
 For in my heart of hearts I felt certain that red- 
 skins would murder palefaces with the greatest 
 satisfaction whenever they had an opportunity. 
 I was brought up with these notions. And 
 although my parents and their neighbours had 
 never even seen an Indian (they had all been 
 killed off, or driven West, and their lands ap- 
 propriated before my parents were born), yet the 
 dread of even the name of the valiant, vanished 
 race was the most effectual method of quieting 
 an obstreperous child, when I was at that in- 
 teresting stage of existence. I have learned 
 much in the progress of my educational curricu- 
 lum, but perhaps the best part of it all has been 
 U7i\ea.rmng things which I should never have 
 learned at all, and the misrepresentation of 
 Indian character is one of those things. 
 
314 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 " So It ended in my responding to Dawenda's 
 'Come!' with ' Ready! About face! March! ' and 
 the girl and I were out of the dismal cave in a 
 jiffy, and shaping our course for her father's 
 village, both of us very silent, and I think with 
 more anxiety in our souls than we cared to 
 acknowledge even to our own individual hearts. 
 
 ** As we emerged from the canyon, and were 
 nearing the river, we came upon a little clearing 
 in the scrub, of an acre or two in extent, with a 
 nice field of maize and other crops, and here 
 and there some fine trees, under one of which 
 was a neat little ' Rancho,' as they call a hut out 
 in the West, and a white man was kneeling near 
 by, apparently weeding some vegetable beds. 
 All this I took in at a glance. And when we 
 reached the gate of the little farm we were quite 
 near the busy man, who did not see us until 
 Dawenda saluted him with a little curtsey and 
 * Good morning. Father.' 
 
 ''With a pleasant smile upon his pleasant 
 face, the ' Father,' as Dawenda addressed him, 
 came forward, saying: 
 
 " ' Ah ! bon jour, ma petite Mademoiselle 
 Dawenda, I hope my pupil is well, and may I 
 know Monsieur?' 
 
 " Dawenda smiled, evidently well pleased at 
 
AND DIABLO 315 
 
 having the task of introducing two white men 
 to each other, one of whom had proved his 
 worthiness by years of faithful service to her 
 people, and the other, as the poor child judged 
 by the teleology of the heart, was also worthy 
 of perfect trust. 
 
 '' Turning to the priest, with the mien of a 
 chiefs daughter, as she is, Dawenda gave the 
 father the position of honour by naming me 
 first. 
 
 " ' Mon pere, this is Monsieur le Professeur! ' 
 Then to me, ' Monsieur, this is the good teacher. 
 Father Conrad, who teached me speak English 
 and French.' 
 
 ''The old father laughed a good, hearty, 
 honest laugh, like the honest man that he was, 
 and said : 
 
 " ' Well done, Dawenda, never hide your 
 candle under a bushel. We have Scripture for 
 that. And I am proud to have teached my 
 friend the Sachem's daughter ' to speak English 
 and French.' " 
 
 '* After that we were all on excellent terms. 
 Dawenda quietly asked the father to go with us 
 to the village, and ' speak ' to her father. But 
 the wise old Priest said that he was very busy 
 that morning, and, besides, he had nothing par- 
 
3i6 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 ticular to * speak ' to her father about. But 
 Dawenda still pressed him to go with us, and 
 at last the old man good-humouredly consented, 
 donned his chapeau, pulled the door to, and, 
 with staff in hand, cried in a cheery voice, * en 
 avant, mes enfants, en avant! " 
 
 " And so on we went, with no outward signs 
 save those of good comradeship. But in my 
 heart there was a strange foreboding that my 
 fate was sealed, the day of my destiny over, and 
 the old life past for ever. It was all as plain 
 to me as a printed book. Perhaps it was tele- 
 pathy, but whatever it was it was certainly true. 
 
 #^ 4i. Ji. Mm 
 
 'TV" "7t- W TI^ 
 
 '' Father Conrad, Dawenda, and I reached 
 the Indian village about noon. And as is 
 Indian fashion, and as is paleface custom also, 
 the bucks were lolling around wherever they 
 could find a bit of shade, smoking, chatting, 
 and taking their ease ; while the squaws — again 
 paleface habit also — were hard at domestic 
 duties, washing, cooking, nursing papooses, and 
 all the innumerable etceteras, which the lordly 
 male designates 'woman's work.' But wait a 
 little, my lords and gentlemen! 'Votes for women' 
 are on the way, and, oh the revelations and 
 dumbfounderments that await our side — some- 
 
AND DIABLO 317 
 
 thing like a fair division of the good things of 
 life, as well as the evil. For instance, fifty ad- 
 monitions of the cat-o'-nine-tails for the first 
 thrashing a man gives his wife, then a hundred 
 for the second offence, and so on and so forth. 
 Oh there are terrible times coming, my brothers! 
 ' Men's hearts failing them for fear.' If a man 
 only happens to look a bit cross at the wife, off 
 she goes to the Lady Beaky or sends you there in 
 charge of one of the kids to take your medicine 
 like a lamb. Oh ! there are hard times a-cominof, 
 my poor brothers, and don't you forget it." 
 
 So the Professor would rattle on when he 
 fell into the humour, depicting an impossible 
 state of human affairs that made one's blood 
 run cold. But is it impossible? Ah, there's the 
 rub. We must just *' wait and see," as the Prime 
 Minister told us to do, and I must get on with 
 the Professor's story. 
 
 " We struck the village at the very spot 
 where I had nearly forfeited my life on account 
 of laying the Chief by the heels for doing that 
 which is quite proper in Indian ethics, and 
 paleface ethics also, I believe, namely, chastising 
 his own dauo^hter. 
 
 ** Now all signs of the late bacchanalian orgies 
 had disappeared and the whole camp was quiet 
 
3i8 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 and orderly. Dawenda led the way to the 
 largest wigwam, which stood a little apart from 
 the others, and which had the additional ad- 
 vantage of a wide though loosely-constructed 
 veranda, affording a delightful shade from the 
 fierce Arizona sun. 
 
 '' After inviting the father and me to enter, 
 Dawenda set a rather ricketty chair for Pere 
 Conrad and an old kerosene box for me. Then 
 merely saying '' I go find father ! " she dis- 
 appeared into the wigwam, and I think passed 
 out by another door into the field beyond. The 
 priest and I being thus left to our own resources, 
 we naturally fell into discoursing upon our sur- 
 roundings. 
 
 "The father told me that he had been domi- 
 ciled in his present abode for thirty years. ' I 
 think,' said the fast-ageing man, with a wistful 
 expression in his clear blue eyes, ' that I have 
 been forgotten by my brothers. It is so easy to 
 o-et out of touch with one's friends in this vast 
 land, that I sometimes really think I have been 
 forgotten. But that does not matter at all, for 
 
 o 
 
 we can fulfil our life's task anywhere and under 
 all conditions, if we only obey the Master's 
 commands. 
 
 " * ** Whatsoever ye would that men should 
 
AND DIABLO 3^9 
 
 do to you, do ye even so to them." And It is 
 wonderful how one can become content, nay, 
 quite happy, if one makes this his rule of life, 
 even under circumstances which outwardly may 
 appear intolerable.-^ 
 
 *' * If I had been told (when I came here in all 
 the vigour of young manhood, and with dreams 
 of a career in the great world of men of my own 
 race) just what my life was to be; muddling 
 along with these poor red men, women, and 
 children; I should have petitioned God for sur- 
 cease of life with such earnest supplications as 
 are always granted. But the madness has long 
 passed and I have learned philosophy in this 
 wise and I am content. Nay, I am not only 
 content, but I can repeat these lines after my 
 nightly orisons with profound gratitude for the 
 past, the present, and the hope of the future. 
 They were written to one I lost in the wilder- 
 ness of this world, and who can never fulfil the 
 request personally. But that does not matter, 
 for the lines have fulfilled their spiritual purpose, 
 and the prayer has been answered. 
 
 1 I remember thinking at the time that it was very curious 
 that the Professor's learned old priest should quote the exact 
 adage which Aaron Slocum, the unlearned man, also quoted 
 as being a most efficacious rule of conduct. 
 
320 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN^ 
 
 THE REQUEST 
 
 Lay me to sleep where I will not hear 
 The wailing of men in endless toil; 
 Lay me to sleep with never a tear, 
 Only a sigh and only a smile, 
 A sigh, dear heart, for thine and thee, 
 A smile, and only a smile, for me. 
 
 Lay me to sleep where the summer sun 
 Will warm my heart that is growing cold; 
 When all this weary toil is done. 
 Lay me to sleep where in days of old 
 We wander'd beside the magic sea. 
 And dreamt our dreams of the years to be. 
 
 And then ! yes, then those blessed dreams 
 
 Will find fulfilment for you and me; 
 
 And back from isles where the rainbow gleams, 
 
 Our argosies come o'er the sapphire sea, 
 
 Laden with spices and jewels and gold, 
 
 We went forth to seek in the days of old ! 
 
 Ah yes ! dear heart, when the heat is past. 
 
 And the sweet shade falls in the afternoon, 
 
 I know we shall find at last, at last ! 
 
 What we sought like children, too soon, too soon ! 
 
 For toil comes first, and then cometh rest — 
 
 And God in His mercy He knoweth best! ' 
 
 -S- -5V W -«- -vt- 
 
 *' By-and-by Dawenda came back leading her 
 father by the hand, or rather her father was 
 leadinor Dawenda. At the time I refer to, Chief 
 
AND DIABLO 321 
 
 Atchewan was a tall handsome man, of some 
 forty or forty-five years of age. He was the 
 undisputed Chief of a small section of the once 
 powerful Piutes who had suffered much at the 
 hands of the palefaces. First of all they were 
 decimated by the Spaniards, and afterwards 
 harried almost to extinction by our people. 
 
 '* And as the Sachem came quietly forward he 
 looked a very different man from the murderous 
 savage he was when I knocked him down. He 
 courteously greeted the Priest, and then he took 
 my hand, saying what I judged by the tone to 
 be some kindly words, which his daughter 
 interpreted as, 'My father say you welcome.' 
 
 '* After this gracious greeting from the Chief, 
 I felt a good deal more at my ease. For until 
 that assurance by Atchewan, I certainly had 
 some very uncomfortable forebodings as to my 
 reception. 
 
 '' The introductions over in proper form (the 
 red, brown, or black man can beat the paleface 
 hollow in the grace and proper ceremony of 
 introductions) the Chief set about the hospitable 
 duties of a host. He provided Pere Conrad 
 with a more substantial chair, then, setting my 
 box against the wall, he spread thereon a nice 
 soft poncho which made a very comfortable seat 
 
 Y 
 
322 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 indeed. After seeing his guests at their ease 
 — true hospitality, you observe — the Sachem 
 threw a sheep-skin on the floor for himself, and 
 quietly squatting down in that graceful and easy 
 position unattainable by the civilized, he lighted 
 and passed around the pipe of peace. 
 
 "In the meantime the women of thehousehold, 
 under Dawenda's supervision, were preparing a 
 feast of welcome. When the entertainment v/as 
 ready, and after the Priest had duly said grace, 
 we fell to, and although none of the women — 
 not even the Chief's wife or daughter — touched 
 a morsel, yet the old Priest, the Chief, and 
 myself played the role of trenchermen so ad- 
 mirably, that when we finally retired from the 
 festive board, and re-lit the pipe of peace, I 
 fear there was not much left for the kind patient 
 creatures who had provided the splendid feast. 
 But these mild qualms hardly trouble men's 
 souls at all, they are so accustomed to be 
 considered the lords of creation, and the cosmos 
 of thlnors as far as women are concerned. But 
 
 o 
 
 as I have previously remarked — there 's a sad 
 awakening on the way for men's souls. And their 
 lordships will have to take a back seat, and let 
 the lordesses have a turn at arranging matters, 
 and then we shall learn some strange lessons. 
 
AND DIABLO 323 
 
 "When everything was arranged, and the 
 men and women of the household had assembled 
 under the shade of the wide veranda, every 
 one dressed in his or her best, Dawenda and 
 her mother especially gay, I began to jalouse 
 that there was some serious matter on the old 
 Chief's mind; and my strange forebodings of 
 the morning again flooded my mind like weird 
 dreams of the night — wordless and meaningless, 
 save for the shadowy ghosts pointing to the 
 long path of wasted years, dead hopes, and lost 
 loves — dreams, alas! from which I think we 
 never wholly awaken until we also are only 
 dreams — and perhaps not even then. 
 
 ''When all were gathered, the Sachem with 
 a dignified gesture commanded attention; and, 
 in his own language of course, spoke quietly, 
 and quite distinctly — as is the good habit of 
 his race — for nearly an hour. And if a speaker 
 is not a bungler of thoughts and words and 
 sentences (and certainly the Chief was not one 
 of that sort), he can say a great deal in that 
 time. 
 
 '' Then it fell to the duty of Pere Conrad to 
 give me a translation of the Sachem's speech. 
 
 " ' I can't do the Chief justice,' said the 
 father. * I am neither a Piute, nor an English 
 
324 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 scholar, and I know that I shall mutilate the 
 Sachem's poetical sentences badly! But I will 
 do my best. And as one of your own poets has 
 truly said : 
 
 ' Who does the best his circumstance allows 
 Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more.' 
 
 " Atchewan spoke slowly and distinctly, mak- 
 ing a little pause now and then to allow the 
 interpreter to overtake, and give me the exact 
 meaning of every sentence, even if he missed a 
 word here or there. 
 
 ''* Wanderer from the North,' that of course 
 meant me, 'Teacher from the ereat Manitou! 
 And my family! Listen! — I wish you all well. 
 Some may think that the wish of a poor, landless 
 redskin will avail you little, but it is all I have 
 to give you! And I will tell you our history, 
 for I fear that many of you have lost the astute- 
 ness of mind which all our fathers possessed, 
 and have fallen into that careless, unwholesome- 
 ness of mind, which is the state of all people 
 who are oppressed generation after generation. 
 This I know. And even Pere Conrad (who 
 does not tell one kind of story to-day, and 
 another kind to-morrow) has told me that 
 " Hope deferred maketh the heart sick! " There- 
 
AND DIABLO 325 
 
 fore it is no wonder that we are a sick, worthless 
 people. But the great Manitou is Judge. Now 
 listen to this true history of our race. 
 
 ***** 
 *' * Long ago — thousands of moons — white 
 men came into our land from the South. They 
 came professing to teach us a better way than 
 our own. But they simply enslaved us, and 
 made us beasts of burden to enrich themselves. 
 And my people lived, and died hopelessly 
 for many generations. Then another race of 
 palefaces came from the East, and seized the 
 land from the first robbers, and we fell into a 
 worse plight than ever. In the former regime 
 we had various privileges, such as bits of land 
 allotted for our own use, which we were allowed 
 to cultivate by moonlight, or at any odd time 
 when our patroits had nothing for us to do. Of 
 course that was very seldom, still it was always 
 something. But under the new-comers we 
 had no more privileges than the coyotes. We 
 were driven from the old Haciendas where we 
 at least had a right to be, if it were only the 
 right of pigs! Still, we had food to eat, and 
 straw to sleep on. But when the new palefaces 
 came and drove our former masters South to 
 the land from whence they came, they also 
 
326 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 drove us away from our little ranchos, because 
 they wanted the land for themselves. And 
 besides that they hated redskins — which our 
 former masters did not — merely treating us as 
 they treated their horses and other cattle. 
 Sometimes petting us when we worked very 
 hard, and at other times whipping us if we did 
 not work hard enough. But the new-comers 
 hated us at all times, and chased the few of us 
 who remained into the mountains, and to these 
 arid wastes, where nothing exists naturally save 
 coyotes and rattlers. Then, when we were 
 sometimes driven mad by all the sufferings 
 and injustice we endured, and took food which 
 was grown upon lands which were ours by all 
 the just laws of God or man, we were hunted 
 like wild beasts, our men, women, and children 
 slaughtered, and their scalps borne off in triumph 
 by the very men who expressed furious indig- 
 nation at us for sometimes taking scalps in legiti- 
 mate warfare! 
 
 *' ' Now, when the redskins are reduced to such 
 a pitifully small remnant that the palefaces no 
 longer slaughter them wholesale, they do that 
 which is worse, because it prolongs our misery. 
 They give us poor fools what they term ** A 
 Perpetual Reservation," which is an extensive 
 
AND DIABLO 327 
 
 tract of unproductive land in some part of the 
 country, very far from what they call " civiliza- 
 tion," which name signifies the place where they 
 make plans to despoil the red men, and where 
 they say that a dead Indian is the only good 
 Indian. 
 
 " ' By-and-by, when the palefaces become too 
 many for their own lands — which is very soon, 
 for they increase like rabbits — and when they 
 see that we have made our lands produce crops 
 in spite of its barrenness, there is a demand to 
 open our Reserves for settlement, which being 
 done (of course, according to law, the white 
 man's easy and safe method of stealing), the 
 palefaces rush into our lands, and we have to 
 flee for our lives, and again become wanderers 
 and vagabonds on the face of that portion of the 
 earth which the great Manitou apportioned 
 to us at the beginning, as He apportioned the 
 land beyond the big- water to the palefaces, and 
 where they should have stayed, not come to us 
 with their wily hearts, and lying lips, and their 
 evil thing: called civilization' Here the Chief 
 /paused a few moments as if to gather his 
 thoughts. And Pere Conrad, looking at me 
 with a serio-comic expression on his old brown 
 face, said quietly : 
 
328 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 *' ' If the Sachem gives us much more on these 
 lines, you and I will feel hurt in our tenderest 
 feelings, like the lawyer in Scripture who com- 
 plained, " Master, thus saying thou reproachest 
 us also." The priest turned to go on with the 
 interpretation of Atchewan's speech, but the 
 Chief and his family sat perfectly calm, keenly 
 watching the father's every movement and ex- 
 pression of lip or eye, for Indians judge a 
 man's feelings more by his silent expression 
 than by his spoken words. Then the Sachem 
 went on : 
 
 '* * After many changes of our camps, I and 
 my few people have been driven far from our 
 hereditary lands, and unaided we shall never 
 find a safe permanent resting-place until we find 
 our graves, and it is not certain that our bones 
 shall find an undisturbed rest even then, for the 
 palefaces love to collect the bones of the dead 
 for the purpose of ornamenting their show 
 houses. But that does not matter, for by then 
 the merciful Manitou will have taken our happy 
 spirits to a blessed land, where — as the Pere 
 has often told us — " Liars and murderers cannot 
 come." 
 
 " ' For long I have known that I must find 
 that rare creature, an honest white man, to join 
 
AND DIABLO 329 
 
 my family and tribe. He must be not only 
 honest, but brave and clever, capable of meet- 
 ing his race dauntlessly and knowing all the 
 tricks and windings of that which they call Law, 
 — according to which land when stolen remains 
 the perpetual property of the thief. And we 
 wish him to be able to tell us when the pale- 
 faces mean evil and war in their hearts, though 
 they speak words of peace and love with their 
 lips. 
 
 " ' Besides, we wish to avail ourselves of a 
 custom which the white people have. Any man 
 who is what they call a '' citizen " can obtain a 
 large block of land by simply living upon it. 
 This we have tried many times, but whether it is 
 because we are not *' citizens " or even not men 
 at all, I do not know. But whenever the white 
 men came along with their squaws and papooses 
 and took a liking to our " Reservation" (as the 
 great Father in Washington calls the lands 
 which are given to Indians) they would make a 
 law among themselves, declaring the Reserva- 
 tion open to settlement, and then they would 
 rush in, almost or quite killing each other in 
 their eagerness to take possession of the land 
 and crops which we supposed were ours. And 
 if the foolish Indians attempt to resist these in- 
 
330 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 vaders there is a great cry raised, to wit, that 
 the murderous redskins are again on the war- 
 path. And the white soldiers are sent out to 
 kill every Indian they can find, and thereby 
 teach us a lesson. Which is a very effective 
 lesson indeed, and the only way that white men 
 know how to make red men into good men. 
 
 " ' Knowing all these facts from my childhood 
 up, and having suffered several removals (as 
 they are called) at the hands of the people who 
 preach " Thou shalt not covet," I now, as a last 
 resource, wish to find a white man who is fear- 
 less, and will act fair, and who understands the 
 chicanery of his own race. I have been looking 
 for such a man for years, and at last I think I 
 have found one. If he joins us, I and my people 
 will be his people, and will always — after due 
 consideration — take his views as of first im- 
 portance in all things concerning the manage- 
 ment of the land, and the laws of the white 
 men. 
 
 '' * We know of a tract of good land south of 
 the San Juan, into which we think water can be 
 led, and if that is proved upon careful examina- 
 tion to be possible, then our white brother shall 
 pre-empt that land according to white law. And 
 there we shall rest in peace under the care of 
 
AND DIABLO 331 
 
 our white brother, and grow abundance of food 
 under our own rules and customs. And if this 
 happy state is accomplished, one of our first 
 rules shall be that whosoever brings fire-water 
 into our village shall die/ At this drastic pro- 
 nunciamiento I was astonished to hear a low but 
 decided grunt of acquiescence from the whole 
 audience, but they knew their weakness, poor 
 things, and in their hearts hated the fiend. 
 After a stern look, as if to indicate that he 
 always kept his promises, the Sachem proceeded 
 with his talk. 
 
 " ' To make a watercourse such as I propose 
 will be a very hard, long work, and it will be 
 through other people's land. But even the most 
 •quarrelsome cannot object, for it will be taking 
 water to a white man's land, while if it were 
 leading water to Indian land it would be a 
 crime, and promptly suppressed.' Here the Chief 
 paused, and held a short, whispered confab with 
 his daughter, and some of the old men. Then 
 he waved his hand for silence, as the women- 
 folk had begun to chatter among themselves. 
 
 '' * I have given you, my people,' the Sachem 
 proceeded, * a short account of the evil times 
 upon which our race have fallen, and you know 
 it only too well! I have told you two white 
 
332 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 men of our miserable plight, and I have partly 
 explained to you, my people, the plan for a 
 betterment of our miserable condition. It only 
 remains for me to state the last and most im- 
 portant stipulation in my plan, which you, pale- 
 face from the North, must accept wholly or not 
 at all. And it is this, and you must not forget 
 that it is a great honour. You must marry my 
 daughter, if she chooses you! Accept, or go 
 your way in peace. No hand will molest you, 
 and no heart of man or woman of my tribe will 
 ever wish you ill. And now I have done.' 
 
 " On the instant Dawenda came forward, a 
 little shyly, but perfectly self-possessed, and, 
 taking my hand, stood by my side as quietly 
 and calmly as though she had been my wife for 
 a score of years. 
 
 " I felt at that moment, as I feel and know 
 now, that a true woman's heart was laid at my 
 feet, and although there was the gulf of cen- 
 turies between her thoughts and my thoughts, 
 and although I knew I was cutting the painter 
 with all my past, yet I deliberately kissed the 
 girl before them all, and said, with the good 
 priest interpreting for me, of course: 
 
 '' ' Sachem, I accept your proposal with a 
 grateful heart, and I promise to devote what 
 
AND DIABLO 333 
 
 abilities I possess to the welfare of the tribe 
 into which you have generously taken me. And 
 I swear to be faithful and true to your beautiful 
 daughter, Dawenda!' 
 
 '* The Chief came forward, and, taking our 
 hands in his, pronounced us man and wife. 
 Then he said some words to the priest, who at 
 once turned to Dawenda and me and proceeded 
 quietly with the simple marriage service as is 
 the fashion in the Far West. The ceremony 
 was over in a few minutes, and Dawenda and I 
 were proclaimed man and wife by redskin and 
 paleface law. And so ended a momentous 
 morning's business for us all, but especially 
 momentous for Dawenda and me. And I am 
 most thankful to say that I have never had 
 cause to regret that morning's strange trans- 
 formation of my position, and my outlook on 
 the life of this world, and I may add, on the life 
 of the World beyond." 
 
 Here the Professor paused a bit, with the far- 
 away shadow in his eyes which people have 
 when they turn their mind's eye on the vanished 
 years. And then he quietly remarked: 
 
 " Few people know better than I that ' The 
 thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.' 
 But I also know that my good, true wife has 
 
334 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 been just the right one for me, and has saved 
 me many times from the dreadful consequences 
 of the whisky-demon's power. Whereas if I 
 had been left in what is commonly termed 
 * civilized ' parts, the only means that could 
 have saved me from hell on earth, and here- 
 after, would have been an angel direct from 
 Heaven, or what is synonymous with a heavenly 
 visitant — the Salvation Army\ That being the 
 only organization I know of, which can say to 
 mountains of sin and misery, ' Be thou removed, 
 and be thou cast into the sea, and it shall be 
 done.' 
 
 " The reason I fell into that terrible crime at 
 Full- Moon City was the fact that Dawenda 
 thought I had gone to Salt Lake, and it was 
 not until she had ridden nearly two hundred 
 miles in one day and a night that she learned I 
 had gone the other way; then she made a more 
 wonderful dash south and, as you know, saved 
 me from the retribution of my sin and folly. 
 
 "• My story is done. It only remains for me 
 to say that I legally secured this tract of land, 
 and the tribe w^orked hard and cheerfully at 
 the water-lead, and in putting the land in 
 shape for irrigation. Fortunately, surveying 
 had been one of my few useful acquirements. 
 
AND DIABLO 335 
 
 and luckily for us (but no doubt to the dire 
 misfortune of some poor derelict who had 
 been stranded and compelled to part with 
 his fine theodolite for a mere trifle), I bought 
 the beautiful instrument from the store-keeper 
 for the sum of forty dollars, and found it a real 
 Trouton and Sims instrument which must have 
 cost the original owner somewhere about five 
 hundred. Thus I had no difficulty in finding 
 the levels quite accurately, greatly to the aston- 
 ishment and admiration of the Indians. 
 
 '' All my fraternal relationships with the tribe 
 have remained perfectly harmonious. The one 
 great conducive constituent which has been the 
 actual cause of this wonderful harmony existing 
 among us is the hard and fast law to which we 
 all swore fealty on my dear old Greek Testa- 
 ment, more than twenty years agone. 
 
 '* That law prohibits the introduction of fire- 
 water into the village, in any shape or form 
 whatever, under the penalty of death. And if a 
 member of the tribe has been abroad and returns 
 in any stage of inebriation, he is put into a very 
 effective model of our ancient stocks (which I 
 will show you by-and-by), and being deprived 
 of all clothing, he is well bespattered with mud 
 and filth and left in that deplorable condition, 
 
336 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 not only until he is sober, but until he is pro- 
 foundly penitent. There have only been two 
 cases of such punishment in all these years. 
 One man was so overwhelmed with shame that 
 when released he fled to the river and drowned 
 himself, the other took to his bed and died 
 within a week. 
 
 *' I have told you, and you have seen, my 
 curse, but you cannot fully understand the 
 Nemesis that has dogged my steps for more 
 than thirty years of my life. Some men can be 
 cured of the drink passion by long compulsory 
 abstinence and some by the direct power of 
 God. I will be cured by neither of these. I 
 have been what the Indians call 'bitten by the 
 mad wolf,' and there is no remedy for such save 
 the grave. ' Men at some time are masters of 
 their fates,' but for me that time has passed for 
 ever. 
 
 *' My dear, wise, little Indian squaw — with 
 her true heart, and lynx eyes, and with God's 
 help — has saved me time and time again. And 
 I can only trust that she will be able to do so 
 until I am safely over the river, and beyond the 
 power of this devil's invention which has de- 
 ceived and ruined men's bodies and souls ever 
 since it befooled good, wise men, like Noah and 
 
AND DIABLO 337 
 
 Lot. If I lose Dawenda you need never come 
 back to * Yellow Bluffs Ranch/ to look for me. 
 Our people are good and true, but only a loving, 
 wise woman's wit, by God's help, can circum- 
 vent the 'Mad wolf'" 
 
 ***** 
 
 Our parting with the Professor was most 
 pathetic, at least on his part and mine. Aaron 
 had not heard the Professor's sad history and 
 perhaps he would not have believed it if he had. 
 Somehow Aaron was very incredulous of the 
 ordinary squawman's yarns and he had failed to 
 see that the Professor was not an ordinary, but 
 altogether an extraordinary, squawman. 
 
 During our sojourn at ''Yellow Bluffs Ranch," 
 of course I saw much of Dawenda, and learned 
 a great deal of the strange individuality of 
 Indian character. Here was an unsophisticated 
 child of the desert, who had lived in the most 
 intimate of all human relationships, namely 
 wifehood, with a man of high learning, tender 
 sympathy, and of a most gentle disposition, and 
 yet after more than twenty years' companionship 
 and genuine love, Dawenda and the Professor 
 were no nearer to each other, in the profound 
 depths of their souls, than they were on the first 
 day they met. No nearer, I suspect, than were 
 
 z 
 
338 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 Cain and the pre-Adamite wife whom he found 
 in the desert. But although, as the Professor 
 expressed it, there was a gulf of centuries in 
 thought between Dawenda and himself, yet I 
 am certain that in his heart of hearts he knew 
 full well that the merciful God had sent him 
 the one patient human being who was pre- 
 eminently adapted to save him from the bite of 
 the mad wolf. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 *' ONE TOUCH OF NATURE MAKES THE WHOLE 
 WORLD KIN " 
 
 It was a long day's march from Yellow Bluffs 
 to the proper ford of the San Juan. The south 
 bank of the river was negotiable enough, but 
 the north bank presented such a formidable 
 barrier that it would have been impossible to 
 effect a landing when we managed to cross the 
 river. So we had to march many miles up stream 
 to find a proper ford where the banks were low 
 on both sides. It was after sun-down before we 
 reached what we deemed was the usual ford, 
 judging by the many tracks of cattle and horses 
 
AND DIABLO 339 
 
 leading directly into the river. It was so late 
 before we finally decided that we had struck 
 the right ford, that we foolishly, as it turned 
 out, concluded to camp, and cross next morning. 
 
 During the night there must have been a 
 cloud-burst in the mountains, for next mornine 
 the river was considerably higher, and showing 
 by its colour that it was sweeping over new 
 earth instead of keeping within its usual bounds. 
 And, what gave us most anxiety, it was bring- 
 ing down much ddbris and, worst of all, bushes 
 and great branches of trees, which we knew by 
 experience were awkward things to come in 
 contact with in a swift current. 
 
 As it was only for one night, we had camped 
 on a low shingle spit near the water, to be ready 
 to cross at the first streak of daylight. So soon 
 as we could discern matters clearly, and had 
 discovered the state of the river, we knew it 
 behoved us to do one of two things: either to 
 cross the river at once, ere the flood and wreck- 
 age became more dangerous; or else make a 
 swift retreat to higher ground, before the San 
 Juan spread into a raging sea sweeping over 
 all the low sandbars and muddy hollows which 
 extended for some miles south of us. 
 
 After a short consultation we both agreed 
 
340 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 that the better course was to make a dash for 
 the ford at once while the river was apparently 
 still fordable. We packed our camp outfit on 
 Aaron's bronco and the pack mule. By this 
 time Aaron much preferred riding Diablo, who 
 had now become the most exemplary of quad- 
 rupeds, and could do — as Aaron expressed it — 
 "everything a white man could do, except tell 
 lies." And the good little creature proved him- 
 self worthy of Aaron's high eulogium by a 
 striking act of gallantry that morning. 
 
 In a few minutes we were mounted and off, I 
 leading, and Aaron behind with the two pack 
 animals following. When we reached middle 
 stream the water was half up my saddle, and as 
 my bronco was at least two hands higher than 
 Diablo, I looked anxiously over my shoulder 
 to see how Aaron was faring. At that moment 
 a half submerged big branch of a tree struck 
 the mule broadside on, catching Aaron and 
 Diablo in its crooked arms and rolling rider 
 and steed over and over in the muddy, swirling 
 flood. I could render no help whatever, either 
 to Aaron or Diablo. Indeed it was all I could 
 do to struggle forward into shallow water my- 
 self. In a few minutes I was on safe, dry 
 ground, in the midst of an excited group of 
 
AND DIABLO 341 
 
 white men who were shouting and gesticulating, 
 while the only words I could make out clearly 
 were: 
 
 "Look, look! the cussed mule has orot him 
 by the neck like a rat, and the savage beast 
 is going to drown him! No, by golly! the little 
 critter is trying to save him — but the lariat is 
 tangled in the branch — and they will both be 
 lost." 
 
 At this I rushed among them, wild with 
 horror at the prospect of my faithful comrade 
 drowning before my eyes, and shouted at the 
 top of my voice : " Five hundred dollars to the 
 man who saves my friend! " But in a moment I 
 was put in my proper place, and feeling very 
 much ashamed of myself. 
 
 The man who seemed to be the leader of the 
 gang turned upon me with a blaze of anger in 
 his eyes, and a stern rebuke on his tongue. 
 ** Stranger, I guess you ain't bin in our parts 
 long, or you would know that honest men out 
 here don't make swops of their lives for dollars. 
 Don't jaw any more! " And you may be sure I 
 didn't say another word. 
 
 Then the same man called, without a moment's 
 delay, " Here, all of you who call yourselves men, 
 join hands and into the river quick. For we 
 
342 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 must save them two critters, and not stand here 
 yelhng like a parcel of coyotes." 
 
 In a few moments clothes were discarded, 
 and like a flash ten or a dozen great powerful 
 men dashed into the river grasping each other's 
 hands in the old highland fashion of fording a 
 burn when in spate — a fashion which has as- 
 tonished many a man besides the French king, 
 who was so profoundly impressed by the gal- 
 lantry of his "Scotch Brigade" which forded 
 the river and captured the island, when all his 
 troops had failed in the attempt. 
 
 I can reflect upon the event calmly enough 
 now, though at the time I was half dazed by 
 the suddenness of our catastrophe. But the 
 quick gallant action of the men in dashing to 
 the rescue of Aaron and Diablo soon restored 
 me, and although at the moment I could do 
 nothing physically towards saving them, I re- 
 lieved my feelings by a wild shout of encourage- 
 ment to the brave fellows who were gallantly 
 dashing to the rescue. As I have said, I was 
 too disjasket both in mind and body fully to 
 understand the position at the first glance. But 
 after a bit this is what I made out, and the 
 men confirmed it afterwards in their accounts 
 of the tragedy. 
 
AND DIABLO 343 
 
 The orreat branch in which Aaron and Diablo 
 were entangled had grounded on a mud bank, 
 or other impediment at the bottom of the river, 
 and had become stationary for the time being. 
 The mule was head and neck above water, 
 apparently supporting himself by hooking his 
 fore -legs over some submerged part of the 
 great conglomeration of twisted leaves and 
 small branches adhering to the main trunk, 
 which seemed to be not merely a branch — as I 
 had at first supposed — but a great tree torn up 
 by the roots holus-bolus. 
 
 At first I could not see Aaron at all until I 
 made out clearly what had evoked the men's 
 exclamations, before they took to the water. I 
 saw distinctly that Diablo was holding Aaron's 
 head above water by a firm grip of his teeth 
 upon the collar of Aaron's tough buck-skin 
 shirt. How or why the little creature knew 
 what to do I cannot explain. I am merely 
 telling you that which I saw, and what made 
 rough men's eyes fill with tears when they had 
 brought the man safely to shore, but in their 
 laudable anxiety to save him had not been able 
 to save gallant little Diablo — who was so 
 twisted and involved in the tree, and no doubt 
 so exhausted by his successful effort to save 
 
344 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 Aaron, that when attention was turned to him 
 after Aaron was brought to safety, it was found 
 that the brave creature was beyond earthly 
 help. And I may add that I feel certain that 
 all. of us white men sincerely tried that day to 
 believe the Indian theology, which assigns a 
 happy future to good animals, as well as to 
 good men! 
 
 Aaron soon recovered from the cramp which 
 had been the cause of his serious souse in the 
 muddy waters of the San Juan. And as soon 
 as he was able to stand, he actually attempted 
 to plunge into the rushing river to go to the 
 rescue of his faithful little steed. This, of course, 
 the men would not allow him to do: but a 
 couple of the generous fellows (while the others 
 held Aaron, for he was sort of raving) dashed 
 in with the ends of stout lariats in their hands, 
 and in a few minutes the motionless body of 
 him who had afforded me a vast amount of deep 
 — if at times anxious — psychical study, was 
 respectfully brought to shore, and laid, as I may 
 say, reverently on the sloping bank near to 
 Aaron, whom three men were getting into dry 
 clothes, and at the same time administering 
 small portions of bread moistened with whisky. 
 
 I had never supposed Aaron to be one of the 
 
AND DIABLO 345 
 
 sort to be affected sentimentally. But I was 
 surprised exceedingly to see this self-possessed, 
 unemotional man of many hard experiences 
 lay his hand on little Diablo's head and weep 
 quite openly. And I must add that the rest of 
 us standing around did pretty much the same 
 thing. If there had been any disinterested spec- 
 tators that day on the banks of the San Juan, 
 it might have tickled their risibility to see a lot 
 of ordinary rough men actually shedding tears 
 over the body of a little dead mule! But had 
 they been able to see a little deeper into the 
 mystery of our hearts, and the hearts of our 
 poor dumb relations, they might have learned 
 something of the meaning of those wonderful 
 words: " One touch of nature makes the whole 
 world kin." 
 
 After a couple of hours' sleep in their tent — 
 it turned out that we had fallen in with a party 
 of gold prospectors — Aaron began to recover 
 from the shock of being half drowned, and 
 wholly broken up in his tenderest feelings. 
 And when he had rested a bit longer, and had 
 partaken of a hearty mid-day dinner, to which 
 the kindly fellows invited us, he was once more 
 his natural self, much to my relief and comfort. 
 
 When he had quietly asked my permission 
 
346 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 to express his gratitude to our new-found friends 
 for their timely and brave help in our late peril- 
 ous plight, and also for their hospitality and 
 sympathy, Aaron delivered the following neat 
 little speech. 
 
 " Gentlemen, or if you will permit a rough 
 man to say, friends! I want to thank you for 
 the slick way you fetched me out o' that fix! I 
 ain't one o' the talkin sort, but I ain't a for- 
 gettin' man! Now I'm goin' to ask you for 
 another kindness. And it is to help me bury in 
 a Christian way my true, good little mule, who 
 lost his life saving mine!" 
 
 Aaron got no further — even if he intended 
 to say more — for the company rose as one man, 
 and, quietly taking their shovels and picks, 
 marched out. 
 
 ''Where shall we dig. Stranger?" said the 
 apparent leader to Aaron, as we all collected 
 around little Diablo. 
 
 There was a huge boulder lying some fifty 
 or sixty yards from the river. It was the only 
 stone thereabouts, and must have been carried 
 there by some great flood, or other convulsion 
 of nature. In front of this stone Aaron selected 
 a spot as being suitable for Diablo's resting 
 place. 
 
AND DIABLO 347 
 
 In a very short time six pairs of stalwart 
 arms made a grave deep enough and wide 
 enough to afford Diablo a most respectable 
 tomb. The work was done in absolute and 
 respectful silence; indeed that funeral was con- 
 ducted in such a quiet, orderly manner that it 
 might have been a useful lesson to some of 
 those who consider themselves perfect in such 
 sad matters. When the grave was completed, 
 we all went over to where Diablo was lying. 
 I had been puzzling my mind with the problem 
 of how the body was to be conveyed to the 
 grave otherwise than by dragging it along the 
 ground, which method I felt certain would be 
 opposed by Aaron. And I had much anxiety 
 lest the amicable intercourse of the morning 
 might be changed to foolish misunderstanding, 
 and anger. But again I was reminded — as I 
 had been many a score of times in my life — 
 *' Never cross a bridge until you come to it." 
 That which had given me anxiety was all done 
 with a celerity and decorum that excite my 
 wonder and admiration to this day! 
 
 With their sharp axes and clever hands the 
 men had a pine felled, and some nice top branches 
 lopped off before I guessed their plans. Laying 
 the thick bunches of the tops over each other 
 
348 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 until they deemed that the arrangement was 
 solid enough not only to afford a very respect- 
 able, but also quite a comfortable, conveyance, 
 they passed two or three double lariats round 
 the forward ends of the pine tops for the two- 
 fold purpose of holding them securely together, 
 and as a means of dragging the quickly impro- 
 vised sylvan sledge. When all was completed, 
 the men quietly lifted Diablo thereon — a pretty 
 heavy lift by the way — for the creature was 
 hefty though small. Then they took hold of the 
 lariats, and without a word — and much to my 
 admiration of their whole conduct — brought the 
 little mule to his permanent corral, slowly, 
 respectfully, and without the slightest bustle 
 or noise of any sort. When they reached the 
 grave-side, three lariats were slid under the 
 pine tops, and Diablo was lowered, sled and all, 
 safely and respectfully into his ample resting 
 place. The men then, without trouble or jerk- 
 ing, pulled up their lariats and stood quite still, 
 apparently awaiting Aaron's further wishes. I 
 remember that at that moment the whimsical 
 thought flashed into my mind that Diablo was 
 my property, and that it was I, not my serving 
 man, who should be consulted! But I was 
 quickly corrected in the midst of my impious 
 
AND DIABLO 349 
 
 vanity, and thrown into a state of utter be- 
 wilderment, by Aaron falling on his knees, and 
 saying in his usual quiet, undemonstrative way: 
 
 '' My dear Lord! You hev seen right to make 
 Diablo save my checks this time: and You hev 
 seen right to call his checks in: and I'm mighty 
 thankful! But I'm very low down for the loss 
 of my mule; but Vou know best. And if it is 
 true what the Injins say about the Happy Hun- 
 tin' Grounds, I hope that I shall meet Diablo 
 when Vou see fit to call me. Amen! " 
 
 While Aaron uttered his strange prayer and 
 hope, the rest of us stood with our hats off, 
 and when he concluded, and had made a slight 
 signal to the men, little Diablo was quietly and 
 comfortably covered up. Then we all returned 
 to "the story of our lives from year to year." 
 
 I have crossed the San Juan at least a dozen 
 times since that memorable crossing with my 
 friend Aaron Slocum and good little Diablo. 
 And, strange to say, I always awake with calm, 
 happy feelings, and with peace and hope in my 
 soul! 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 More than ten years have passed since these 
 adventures in the ''wild and woolly West," and 
 Time, with his restless hands, has wrought 
 
350 WHITESKIN, REDSKIN, 
 
 many changes, as is his ceaseless habit. The 
 Professor has passed to a more perfect rest 
 than even that afforded by his Greek Testa- 
 ment and the quietude of Yellow Bluffs. For 
 years I regularly had a letter from him, always 
 written on New Year's Day, and invariably re- 
 porting good health of all at the Ranch, and his 
 own perfect contentment with his mode of life. 
 I enjoyed the Professor's letters exceedingly, 
 with their quaint bits of wisdom, and anecdote, 
 and always beautiful phraseology. But one 
 year they ceased — as all things cease in this 
 world, excepting sin and sorrow — and after I 
 had written twice without any reply, I received 
 the following letter from Dawenda. The ad- 
 dress, fortunately, was quite correct, as she had 
 copied that from the Professor's note book : the 
 composition was evidently entirely her own, 
 and I thought it remarkably good. 
 
 " Deer Frind. 
 
 " Yous 2 leter kum my hand. I thank 
 you for yous good words. My deer Professor 
 hee die away won yeer gon. I am alon after 
 30 happy yeer! I bury him under tree at door 
 where hee and you sit and tank. I burn fire 
 many night for hee see trail. Sum times hee 
 
AND DIABLO 351 
 
 kum when I sleep, and kiss! then me great 
 happy for many days. 
 
 ** All gon now, father, mother, Pere Conrad. I 
 wish mucho me gon too. if you kum I give you 
 all his books and papers, that is all. 
 
 ** Dawenda. 
 
 " PS. I no writ good, mor beter you kum 
 tauk." 
 
 I shall certainly make another pilgrimage out 
 to the far West to see my friend Dawenda. 
 And I know that the Professor's papers will 
 afford some fine philosophical, instructive, and 
 deeply interesting reading. 
 
THE QUEST OF THE SEAHAWK 
 
 AA 
 
THE QUEST OF THE SEA- 
 HAIVK 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 It was in the Gulf of Dulce, in the Port of Yzabel, 
 
 Ah, Lord, how the moonhght ghstened, and the long sharp 
 
 shadows fell ! 
 How the ocean danced and shimmered, like a sea of molten 
 
 gold, 
 How the trailers swung, and blossoms hung, can ne'er be 
 
 sung or told. 
 
 'Twas the little schooner Seahawk came a-creeping round 
 
 the head, 
 With her long low hull and raking spars, and snowy wings 
 
 outspread ; 
 Came a-creeping through the moonlight (as the heavy tropic 
 
 breath 
 Half filled her sails with balmy gales) as silently as death. 
 
 We mounted one long carronade on the saucy little craft — 
 A heavy gun for such a one — with a fourteen pounder aft; 
 The carronade for chasing, and the little taffrail-gun 
 For a shot when men had done their best, but had to cut 
 and run. 
 
 355 
 
356 THE QUEST OF 
 
 Ah ! the merry days in Dulce, moored among the fairy keys, 
 Or shpping hke a sea-gull o'er the wondrous coral seas, 
 Over gardens spread beneath us, fit for fairy king and 
 
 queen. 
 Where coral glanced, and seaweed danced, and fishes slid 
 
 between ! 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ^N my wanderings, I once passed a 
 winter in Jamaica, and a very- 
 happy and interesting time I had 
 in that beautiful and fertile island. 
 I took up my abode, and a really comfortable 
 abode it was, at the house of a kindly lady — 
 you must always say lady in Jamaica if there is 
 a vestige of colour — situated on the Gordon 
 Town road. 
 
 I made some very pleasant acquaintances — 
 or should I say friendships.'* — during that most 
 genial summer-winter. One was Mr. (now Sir) 
 D. Morris, at that time curator of the govern- 
 ment gardens. Another was a most congenial 
 doctor in charge of the hospital at Spanish 
 Town, I have forgotten his name, but I have by 
 no means forgotten his kindness and urbanity. 
 I cherish some other memories which I would 
 
THE SEAHAWK 357 
 
 be loth to part with, and among these there is 
 one — a memory I shall never forget until I also 
 shall pass to the Land of Silence. 
 
 The friend I refer to— Captain James Gor- 
 don — was, as you will infer from his name, a 
 Scotchman by birth, but a citizen of the world 
 by habit and the decree of fate. He was, or 
 rather had been (for he was, when I knew him, 
 a bit past very active service), one of those 
 adventurous spirits who have carried the old 
 Flag into all corners of the world, at the cost of 
 much toil and suffering, and with dauntless 
 resolution. But those days were past for James 
 Gordon, as they slide past for us all, whether 
 we are dauntless or otherwise. I am now re- 
 ferring to a time some years ago, and Gordon 
 was then " a bit over three score and ten," as 
 he freely admitted himself 
 
 Since my friend had given up sea-life he had 
 spent his time mostly in Jamaica. He told me 
 that he had been so long absent from his native 
 land that he had practically lost touch with the 
 old life ; and all those who had been near and 
 dear to him had either wandered and lost touch 
 with the Glens and the Heather, as he himself 
 had done, or had passed to the great majority. 
 
 Under these circumstances Gordon had finally 
 
358 THE QUEST OF 
 
 made up his mind to pass his last '' dog-watch '* 
 in a cHmate which suited hismuch-calmed-down- 
 circulation, and among a people to whose start- 
 ling varieties of colour and habits of life he had 
 become accustomed through long usage. 
 
 My old friend had managed to secure a com- 
 petence which quite relieved him of financial 
 anxiety for the future, and afforded him the 
 additional satisfaction of being able to lend a 
 hand to an old shipmate here and there, who 
 had been less fortunate on the voyage of life 
 than he. 
 
 The climate and his mode of life had evidently 
 suited Gordon's constitution, for when I con- 
 sorted with him he was as active, and could stand 
 as much fatigue, as men twenty-five or even 
 thirty years younger than himself. He was a 
 delightful companion, always cheerful and with 
 an endless store of reminiscences reaching back 
 scores of years. Some strange and weird, some 
 sad and romantic, and all told with the charm 
 of simplicity and truth. 
 
 Gordon had come to the West Indies when 
 he was some twenty years of age or thereabout, 
 so had seen many changes in the Islands. He 
 had seen slavery fiourishing, had known the 
 best and the worst of that curious system which 
 
THE SB A HAWK 359 
 
 has come down the ages from the beginning, 
 but which seems at last to be aboHshed for 
 ever. But qitien sabef the world is not perfect 
 by any means yet, nor is it yet at the end. 
 
 The lad made his debut in Kingston on the 
 Glasgow barque Clyde, sent out with a general 
 cargo for the island, and to load sugar home. 
 Those were not the days of hurry — mahana, and 
 no importancia were the fashion with regard to 
 time. And, as my friend often remarked, 
 everybody looked happier, more placid and 
 contented in those slow old-fashioned times 
 than in these days of mad haste and worry. 
 Men had learned that " He that hasteth with 
 his feet sinneth." Gordon declared that even 
 the slaves took life more leisurely than free men 
 take it nowadays. And if they did skip now 
 and then at the crack of the whip, it was more 
 in fun than earnest. 
 
 Of course the tropics cast their glamour over 
 the lad, and either for his good or ill — as you 
 may look at the matter — he made up his foolish 
 young mind to give the barque "leg-bail." And 
 so began a life of much adventure; the old 
 habits and fashions slipping away, like water 
 off a duck's back — as Gordon said himself — and 
 new things and thoughts taking their places. 
 
36o THE QUEST OF 
 
 Before bidding the barque adios, the boy was 
 wise enough to arrange for his escape properly. 
 He was clever enough to know that he must get 
 clear of the land altogether, at least for a time. 
 He knew that if he tried to hide anywhere on 
 the island a few dollars to the negroes would 
 serve to bring the runaway back to justice in 
 double-quick time. Even without the dollar 
 bribe, the negroes generally captured a run- 
 away sailor, simply for the exquisite delight of 
 seeing a white fellow getting a rope's ending. 
 
 But my friend, even in his unfledged days, 
 was too shrewd to risk an attempt by land, and 
 cast about for some safer method of escape. 
 
 Gordon, as well as other members of the 
 barque's crew, had been much impressed by the 
 beautiful lines and general appearance of a 
 schooner which lay ready for sea near the 
 entrance of the harbour. She was a long, low, 
 raking craft, about ninety or a hundred tons 
 burden, a fore-and-after, and only carrying a 
 square-sail in light winds, or if in some extra 
 hurry. 
 
 It seemed to Gordon's romantic young mind 
 that it would be a splendid change to serve on 
 such a beautiful craft and be clear of the old, 
 clumsy, sugary-smelling barque, which had often 
 
THE SEA-HAWK 361 
 
 given him woeful qualms while working in her 
 hot, close, evil-scented hold. 
 
 ***** 
 
 With these few disjointed words by way of 
 introduction, I shall now record one of the many 
 reminiscences with which my friend often be- 
 guiled a long tropical night into the space of a 
 few hours. 
 
 Captain Gordon, like most old seamen, was 
 gifted with a tenacious memory; a gift, 1 think, 
 much more frequently found among seamen 
 than landsmen. I suppose this invaluable quality 
 is fostered by their lonely and contemplative 
 life, while shore-folk have their memories and 
 other good gifts (with which they may have 
 begun the journey) knocked all to pieces by the 
 constant rush and turmoil of passing events. 
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 ''It is quite fifty years," said Gordon, ** since 
 one calm night I bribed with a silver dollar a 
 ragged, black rascal to slide me alongside the 
 schooner Seahawk, in his leaky old fish-smelling 
 dinghy. I had arranged with the fellow before- 
 
362 THE QUEST OF 
 
 hand to do the job on the foregoing terms, and 
 furthermore I had promised him an additional 
 dollar when I returned to Kingston if he kept 
 absolutely silent regarding my disappearance 
 and mode of escape. This precaution was quite 
 necessary in Kingston (and many another port) 
 as poor foolish seamen find to their cost. When- 
 ever the ' wharf-rats ' get all they possibly can 
 out of a sailor for helping him to desert, they 
 at once proceed to sell their information to 
 whomsoever will pay most for the fool's capture. 
 
 '' Of course I had foregathered with the 
 schooner's crew on various occasions both on 
 the barque and on their own pretty craft. I had 
 even got the length of touching my cap to 
 Captain Hugh Murray, their commander, and, 
 most important of all, I had made fast friend- 
 ship wnth a lad of my own age, Bob Douglas 
 by name. 
 
 " The schooner s crew were an exceptionally 
 fine lot of men, such as are rarely found on a 
 small craft trading among the islands and on 
 the Central American coast. Another thing 
 which struck me, even inexperienced as I then 
 was, and with a very limited knowledge of such 
 things, was the large number of men which the 
 Seahawk carried. A fore-and-after does not 
 
THE SEA HAWK 363 
 
 require half as large a crew as a square-rigged 
 vessel, and I was surprised to find twenty men 
 before the mast, with the captain, first, second, 
 and third mates aft, besides the boatswain, cook, 
 and steward in their quarters. 
 
 ** Whenever I visited the Seahawk — which 
 the good old skipper of the barque allowed me 
 to do occasionally of a Sunday afternoon — I 
 was astonished and pleased to see the clean, 
 orderly, spick-and-span state of everything alow 
 and aloft. And another thing which puzzled me 
 was the fact that althoup-h the schooner was 
 ready for sea, as the men told me, there was 
 nothing to be seen in the shape of cargo, on 
 deck or below. 
 
 ** The schooner was modelled on the lines of 
 the old Baltimore clippers, and was the fastest 
 craft I ever set foot on or ever came across on 
 the high seas. She was half as long again as 
 the general run of crafts of her size. She had 
 great beam, did not draw much water, and with 
 her clean run and hollow floor she could reel 
 off fifteen knots an hour either on a bowline or 
 running free with a stiff breeze. The beautiful 
 little craft did not waste time — as so many 
 small crafts do — jumping and plunging about, 
 her great length enabling her to take two or 
 
364 THE QUEST OF 
 
 three jabbly seas at a time without the least 
 inconvenience, and with her great beam she 
 could stand up to half a gale with all sail set. 
 
 '' When I got alongside the Seahawk, on the 
 night I so unceremoniously changed ships, I 
 gave the nigger his dollar, and slipped quietly 
 over the rail with my canvas bag which held all 
 my slim worldly possessions, and, according to 
 pre-arranged agreement, met my friend Bob 
 Douglas waiting for me. With bare feet we 
 made our noiseless way to the fo'c'sle and then 
 Bob told me to get into his bunk, and make 
 myself as small as possible, while he stowed my 
 kit in his locker. 
 
 " That was the beginning of my career on the 
 little craft which was destined to be my home 
 for many a long year until a fierce Norther 
 laid her to her final rest alongside of many a 
 companion, high-and-dry on the wreck-strewn 
 beach of Vera Cruz, at the head of the Mexican 
 Gulf. 
 
 " But I am getting far ahead of my story, and 
 as dear old Captain Cuttle advised, ' I must 
 overhaul my catechism,' and so proceed with 
 the main points of my history; and although 
 you may think it romantic history, it is by no 
 means romantic fiction. 
 
THE SEA HAWK 365 
 
 '' When the moon rose on the night when 
 I shipped so quietly in my new service, the 
 anchor was tripped, and even with small sail set, 
 the schooner made such good use of the light 
 trade-wind that by daylight the highest peaks 
 of Jamaica were almost invisible. Our position 
 I learned as I popped my head up the fo'c'sle 
 companion-way and cautiously peered about. 
 
 " While I stood there, half up the fo'c'sle 
 ladder, enjoying the deliciously cool breeze on 
 my bare head, face, and neck, I was almost 
 knocked into a fit by being roughly seized by 
 the scruff of the neck, dragged on deck, and 
 laid on my back with my whilom friend Bob 
 Douglas holding me down. I was a pretty act- 
 ive athletic lad in those days, and in a moment 
 I had Bob under me, and was proceeding to 
 administer further correction when he grabbed 
 my hair, pulled my ear down to his mouth, and 
 hissed in a vehement whisper: 
 
 "'I am only pretending, you fool! If the 
 captain knows the truth he will flog us both. 
 Keep on pretending that we are fighting, but 
 don't hurt me.' 
 
 '' In a moment the sailors were around us in 
 a bunch, and although they were enjoying our 
 rumpus down to the ground — this I learnea 
 
366 THE QUEST OF 
 
 after it was all over — they only looked amazed 
 and dumbfounded at seeing a strange boy try- 
 ing to strangle their well-beloved shipmate 
 Bob Douglas. 
 
 " Many strong hands promptly dragged me 
 off poor Bob who, springing to his feet, shook 
 his fist in my face, saying in a loud voice so that 
 the officer of the watch could hear: 
 
 " * By and by I will square accounts with you, 
 my smart little covey. In the meantime come 
 along aft and report yourself for a lesson by the 
 cat! And then explain how in thunder you got 
 on board our ship.' 
 
 " By this time the second mate had appeared 
 on the scene, and everybody dropped into an 
 embarrassed sort of silence as the officer de- 
 manded what all the row was about. At first 
 he did not notice me, as I was bunched up 
 among the crowd of sailors. But as Bob and 
 some others moved out, his eye caught sight of 
 my scared face, and stepping close to me he 
 demanded " Who the blazes are you ? and where 
 have you come from ? " 
 
 ''Then my friend Bob Douglas thinking, I 
 suppose, that things had better be explained a 
 bit, took off his cap as though he were at a court 
 martial — which in a manner he was, as he and 
 
THE SEA HAWK 367 
 
 I had been at war — and proceeded to give his 
 version of the affair. 
 
 " ' Please sir/ began Bob, ' it was so jolly hot 
 that I slept on deck last night during my watch 
 below, and I didn't go into the fo'c'sle until a 
 little while ago, and when I went to my locker for 
 a towel, lo, and behold! I found this fine cove in 
 my bunk, quite at his ease, and snoring away as 
 if the whole fo'c'sle belonged to himself and he 
 was the Prince of Wales taking a sea voyage 
 for the good of his health. Of course I got a 
 bit riled and took hold of the cove's leg to haul 
 him out of my premises, when the beggar gave 
 me an awful kick in the bread-basket, and I fell 
 into such pain and fear that I rushed on deck 
 calling to the men that the devil had gotten into 
 the fo'c'sle! Then Billy Morrison and some of 
 the others came along, and when they got to 
 the companion-way, here was my gentleman 
 standing at the top step, cooling off and enjoy- 
 ing the scenery, and just having a look to see 
 that the ship and all hands were in good order 
 and according to his highness's wishes. This 
 was too much even for humble me, and I got 
 hold of his woolly nob, just to let him know 
 that there were other people on board besides 
 his royal self. But in a moment he jumped on 
 
368 THE QUEST OF 
 
 me, and I am sure he would have killed me if 
 Bill and the others had not hauled the savage 
 young beast off! ' 
 
 '' Here Bob began to whimper and rub the 
 part of his body which he said I had kicked, 
 and he acted the whole thing so well that I had 
 great difficulty in suppressing a burst of laughter. 
 But the second mate relieved the situation by 
 sternly commanding Bob to 'belay his slack 
 jaw,' and ordering us both aft. 
 
 *' Then I knew that the crucial moment of my 
 escapade had arrived, fraught with consequences 
 which I could in no wise guess at, but which I 
 feared might be something dreadful. However, 
 I made up my mind, in the short space of time 
 before I was brought face to face with Captain 
 Murray, that I would tell the absolute truth of 
 the whole case, as far as possible, without in- 
 volving my friend Bob Douglas. I was bound 
 in common decency to shield Bob, for he had 
 risked much — besides his veracity — for me. 
 
 *' The Seahawk had a raised quarter-deck, 
 not what could be called a poop, as it was only 
 only about three feet above the main deck, but 
 the additional height afforded fine light and air 
 to the cabin. As our procession marched aft, 
 the captain was leaning on the lee rail with 
 
THE SEAHAWK 369 
 
 folded arms, looking at the sparkling sea, and 
 quietly smoking a cigar. When we reached the 
 break of the quarter-deck, the officer signed for 
 us to stand there, and he alone went aft to 
 Captain Murray. What he said I don't know, 
 but he was not long about it, for in a minute or 
 two he signalled to us to come aft. I don't 
 know how the others felt or lopked, but as for 
 myself I know that I both looked and felt 
 pretty sheepish and miserable at that moment. 
 " Captain Murray in those days was a hand- 
 some, fine-looking man, still with the glamour 
 and signs of youth about him even although he 
 was a good bit past that reckless period of life. 
 When one looked at him one had the feeling 
 that he was good, brave, and true. The sort of 
 man that women and children would trust, and 
 men, too, if they were honest, but from whom 
 they would slink away if they were crooked in 
 their morals. So, as I looked in the captain's 
 face, I felt a perceptible rise in my foolish young 
 heart's barometer, which had dropped to zero 
 at my unexpectedly boisterous reception that 
 
 mornmg. 
 
 " When the officer had stated the facts of the 
 case, as far as he knew them, he stood aside, 
 and left Bob Douglas and me exposed to full 
 
 B B 
 
370 THE QUEST OF 
 
 view, and I know we made a very sorry view 
 indeed. 
 
 " The captain looked us all over with those 
 wonderful eyes of his, which were evidently 
 suited to see through a bulk-head, let alone a 
 couple of silly lads with deception written all 
 over them. After a long, and to us painful, 
 pause, he threw his cigar over the rail, and said 
 to me in a quiet, slow, and strangely soft voice for 
 a sailor man, even one of the quarter-deck sort: 
 
 '"Young man, where did you come from? 
 and how did you get on board my ship? and 
 who helped you? and, lastly, for what reason 
 did you come? ' 
 
 " I knew at that moment, as I knew after we 
 had been shipmates for over twenty years, that 
 any attempt at prevarication would be utterly 
 useless with Captain Murray, for I felt perfectly 
 certain that he would read the truth through 
 the cleverest devised fiction which I could 
 manufacture. But I am glad to say that I had 
 honour enough left in my soul to determine in 
 that supreme moment not to involve Bob 
 Douglas as an abettor in my crime. 
 
 " Thereupon I made a clean breast of it all. 
 How I had grown sick of the old sugar barque 
 Cfyde, and fallen in love with the beautiful 
 
THE SEAHAWK 371 
 
 schooner Seakawk, had engaged a black boy to 
 put me alongside quietly at midnight, and had 
 crawled into the first bunk I had found in the 
 fo'c'sle, etc. 
 
 '* ' And how did my men use you? ' inquired 
 the captain, in a tone as if he were anxious to 
 hear that his men had treated me kindly. 
 
 *''Oh, they did not treat me at all, sir! 
 Perhaps they waited to know what you would 
 order to be done with me. Only I am afraid I 
 hurt this young man,' pointing at Bob, *as I 
 was hastily getting out of bunk a little while 
 ago, and if I did I am very sorry, and beg his 
 pardon.' 
 
 '' Like a wise commander. Captain Murray 
 did not wish to go deeper than necessary into 
 a matter which might involve the discipline of 
 other members of the crew. At least, that was 
 what came into my shrewd young mind at the 
 time, for he made no further inquiry regarding 
 my advent on the schooner. 
 
 " ' What is your name } ' was the next sharp, 
 clear question. 
 
 " * James Gordon, sir.' 
 
 *' ' Very well. Then I must tell you, James 
 Gordon, that it is always a disgraceful, not to 
 say dishonest, action for a man to desert from a 
 
372 THE QUEST OF 
 
 ship on which he has shipped and promised to 
 serve faithfully for a certain time. Through 
 your desertion the Clyde is now one man short- 
 handed, and maybe more, if others have followed 
 your ill example. I have no means at present of 
 remedying your fault, but if by any chance I 
 find it possible to put you back to your rightful 
 ship, you may rest assured I will do so. In the 
 meantime I will place you in my own watch, 
 and I hope your future conduct on my ship will 
 be an improvement on the beginning.' 
 
 " I felt very thankful, and very small, at that 
 moment. Firstly, because I had fully expected 
 some punishment more or less severe from 
 this clear-sighted and clear-headed man, and 
 secondly, because I felt with a stinging con- 
 sciousness that I cut a very sorry figure morally 
 and physically. Of course, the second mate and 
 Bob Douglas heard every word the captain said, 
 and, I had no doubt, enjoyed the whole scene. 
 This knowledge added considerably to my boy- 
 ish chagrin, while my anxiety of mind regarding 
 my present position and future prospects, and 
 my sincere shame for breaking my pledged 
 agreement with the captain of the Clyde, put my 
 callow young soul into a most unenviable state 
 of perturbation. 
 
THE SBANAWK 373 
 
 " After a little pause, as if he were consider- 
 ing something, the captain turned to the mate, 
 saying: 
 
 " ' Mr. Waters, you will please put this young 
 man — James Gordon — in my watch. I am a 
 man short since Adams went home on leave. 
 You will allow Gordon such things from the 
 slop-chest as you may think absolutely neces- 
 sary. Now, pipe all hands to quarters.' 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 '' That was the beginning of my adventures in 
 the South, and my sailing on Captain Murray's 
 wonderful craft — Government despatch-boat, 
 whilom privateer, and what-not, but always 
 splendidly beautiful schooner Seahawk, 
 
 " I was soon very comfortably ensconced (in 
 spite of my preliminary fears) in my new quar- 
 ters, with a nice bunk and locker all to myself, 
 and with a man whom I judged to be one of the 
 steady old hands in the bunk under mine. 
 William Morrison — as the unmistakable letter- 
 ing on his huge sea-chest informed me — was 
 one of the quiet, sober sort of old seamen, never 
 wasting a word unnecessarily, although other- 
 
374 THE QUEST OF 
 
 wise a most cheerful and obliging companion, 
 as I will have occasion to mention later on. 
 Besides this, he was also in the captain's watch, 
 so we were often brought together, not only in 
 our watch below, but in our duties on deck, and 
 I know that his companionship and mature ad- 
 vice was much to my advantage morally and 
 physically. 
 
 '' As I say, matters soon dropped into the 
 usual round of sea life, and in the course of a 
 few days I felt quite at home on board the 
 Seahawk. I did not trouble my brain with much 
 thinking In those days, but I have often thought 
 in the course of my life since then of the ready 
 adaptability of the ordinary human being to his 
 environment, and what a curious and merciful 
 characteristic It is. Even in such a hard case 
 as poor Robinson Crusoe, Defoe tells the story 
 absolutely naturally and truly when he depicts 
 the lonely, desperate, hopeless man, pulling 
 himself together, adapting himself to his miser- 
 able circumstances, and in a short time leading 
 a comparatively contented life under conditions 
 which he at first contemplated with horror and 
 despair. 
 
 '* As bearing upon this subject I will relate in 
 a few words a case which came under my own 
 
THE SEAHAWK 375 
 
 personal observation, and which touched me 
 very deeply at the time, and which I have never 
 forgotten. 
 
 ** I once picked up a man who had been 
 marooned on one of the loneliest Eastern islets 
 of the Gambier group. The spot was merely a 
 hump of sand with a patch of vegetation on top, 
 and the breakers threatening to wash away the 
 whole concern every storm that blew. In some 
 bygone time a ship must have been wrecked on 
 the sand-dune, for her remains were still there, 
 and the hull had, I suppose, been the founda- 
 tion of the hump of sand and bits of vegetation. 
 Here the poor man had cleverly excavated a 
 space some ten feet square, and sheltered by 
 the wreck had managed to keep himself warm 
 at night lying on the dry sand. In this fashion 
 he had lived for three years, and that not in 
 utter misery, as his good physical condition 
 proved when I rescued him. 
 
 '* When his crew mutinied and put him ashore 
 they were merciful enough, rogues though they 
 were, to leave him some useful odds and ends 
 — some fishing tackle, a flint and steel, an 
 axe and spade, some extra clothing, a cask of 
 water, and an old sail to rig up to catch rain-water 
 to replenish his cask. They were also kind 
 
376 THE QUEST OF 
 
 enough to leave some kegs of provisions, but 
 so scant a supply that even with the greatest 
 care all were exhausted in a few months, and 
 thereafter he had to depend wholly upon his 
 own resources. 
 
 " But even under these desolate conditions, I 
 found this man not only alive but in good health, 
 and making the best of his untoward circum- 
 stances, and actually leaving his sand-burrow 
 and awful solitude wuth symptoms of regret, 
 not to say affection. 
 
 ''The poor fellow (John Benn, by name) 
 excited my sympathy and curiosity very deeply. 
 And as he was with me for two or three months 
 before I found an easy billet for him on an 
 English ship bound for London, whither he 
 wished to go to hunt up his father and mother, 
 who, no doubt, had long given up their son 
 as dead, I had many talks with him regard- 
 inof his mode of life and his mental condition 
 during his utterly companionless life on the 
 lonely sand-dune. When he fully realized that 
 he was deserted on one of the loneliest spots in 
 a lonely sea, he fell into a state of madness, 
 raved and cursed, and almost determined to end 
 his miserable existence by his own hand. Then 
 at the close of that first awful day of hopeless 
 
THE SEAHAWK 377 
 
 solitude, and when the stars and planets — which 
 he had long known by name in his navigation 
 work — began to appear, there came into his 
 heart a feeling that somehow he was not quite 
 deserted, for he could look at those changreless 
 directors who had never deceived him by a 
 hair's breadth, east, west, north, or south! And 
 the knowledge of their absolute trueness com- 
 forted his soul like the voices of loving friends. 
 " Strange to say, never after that first terrible 
 day did the poor lonely man fall into utter de- 
 spair. Not that he comforted himself with hopes 
 of escape, for he seemed to abandon all thought 
 of rescue, and diligently devoted himself to cer- 
 tain daily tasks which he planned and carried 
 out methodically and strictly. First, of a morn- 
 ing, he made his bedroom, as he called his 
 sand-burrow, comfortable for night. Then he 
 would see that part of his old sail was in good 
 position for catching any showers which might 
 drift along, and leading the precious drops into 
 the water cask. After his frugal breakfast there 
 was the ceaseless task of angling both for fish 
 and sea-birds, and he told me of many curious 
 expedients which he invented for catching and 
 curing them. He also discovered that the tubers 
 on the roots of the vine which clambered over 
 
378 THE QUEST OF 
 
 his sandy domain were edible, and quite palat- 
 able when cooked. This merciful discovery no 
 doubt saved the man's life, as he could hardly 
 have existed upon the bird and fish diet alone. 
 
 *' But I have not time to tell you all, or I 
 should rather say half, of the poor fellow's many 
 expedients, or I would get too far away from 
 my main subject, ' The Quest of the Seahawk' 
 However, I must mention, as briefly as I can, 
 what interested me most of all, namely, how he 
 crot on with his own inner self, his soul, his mind, 
 during those terrible years of bookless, speech- 
 less, humanless solitude. 
 
 '' For many weeks after his first terrible de- 
 spair, he told me, he did not hold any communion 
 with his Maker, or even with his own soul! His 
 mind seemed to fall into a state of blank chaos, 
 and he somehow lost knowledge of himself, and 
 would sit by the hour trying to recall his past 
 life, even hisvery name slipped beyond his reach. 
 He ate his portion of food, drank his portion of 
 water, and slept his usual portions of sleep, and 
 went mechanically about the business of catching 
 fish or birds, or doing anything else, quite cor- 
 rectly but always in silence, and with the curious 
 feeling that he was some one else, and not him- 
 self at all! 
 
THE SEAHAWK 379 
 
 *' One night as he lay in his burrow, speech 
 suddenly burst from his lips without intention 
 or premeditation, and strangely enough in words 
 which he had committed to memory at the in- 
 stance of his Sunday school teacher — some 
 twenty-five or more years before — but which 
 he did not remember having repeated since that 
 long past date, and these were the words that 
 came quite freely from his lips : 
 
 '' * I call to remembrance my song in the night: 
 I commune with mine own heart; and my spirit 
 made diligent search.' 
 
 '* Poor Benn told me that a great rush of ten- 
 derness and gratitude filled his heart as he re- 
 peated the text over; not only for the cheering 
 words, but also, and even more, that he had 
 found speech, and so communion with his own 
 soul, and with God. He said he never before 
 fully realized what must have been the joy and 
 thankfulness of the dumb youth whom our Lord 
 healed. 
 
 ** From that day onward he never again suf- 
 fered such utterly depressed loneliness as before. 
 He had found a companion in his own soul, and 
 thereafter they two held consultations, and 
 made their plans in plain verbal talks, like good, 
 loving, trusted shipmates. And he assured me 
 
38o THE QUEST OF 
 
 that he never forgot in his daily prayers to 
 thank God for restoring this auricular commune, 
 and after that night always presented his peti- 
 tions in \h.^ phcral number. 
 
 " Now, you may at once conclude that the 
 man had lost his reason, and perhaps he had, 
 but if so he had certainly found a very suitable 
 and comforting sort of reason for his desperate 
 case. He declared most solemnly that from the 
 day — or I should say night — ' when he com- 
 muned with his own heart' and had speech with 
 his own soul he felt at peace with God and man, 
 and never ao^ain fell into the horror of desolate 
 loneliness which had driven him to the verge of 
 suicide several times. 
 
 '' I sometimes wish that those learned gentle- 
 men ' that live at home at ease,' and talk 
 so glibly of psychologic mysteries, could go 
 through some such experience as John Benn 
 went through on his lonely domain. If they did 
 I have no doubt they would be able to give us 
 some profound enlightenment anent those sub- 
 jects we all crave so futilely to know more about. 
 Or maybe they would become like the little 
 child whom Christ 'set in the midst'; and 
 that would be much the best way of all ! 
 
THE SEAHAWK 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 " But to return to my own adventure on the 
 Seahawk^' said my friend Gordon. " I soon fell 
 into the habits of my new life — as poor Jack 
 Benn fell into his — and I took up with zest the 
 routine of my new duties. 
 
 '' Instead of leaving the watch altogether or 
 nearly so, to the second mate, as many masters 
 do, I found that Captain Murray stood most of 
 the watches himself. In this way I was brought 
 much more into personal contact with him at the 
 very beginning of the voyage, than I would have 
 been had he left the watch altogether to the 
 second mate. The captain was not a man given 
 to many words, but whatever he said was to the 
 point, and always spoken in that clear pleasant 
 tone which makes it a pleasure rather than a 
 task for a sailor to give instant obedience to an 
 officer's command. 
 
 '* Many a night as the schooner slipped along 
 before the light trade-wind, the captain would 
 ask me questions about my reasons for going to 
 sea, and quietly advise me to return to a steady 
 shore life, to the friends I loved and who loved 
 
382 THE QUEST OF 
 
 me. And I have not the least doubt, that if I 
 could possibly have had the opportunity of 
 walking into the beautiful old home immedi- 
 ately after one of those good, wise talks, my life 
 would have been passed among mine own kin- 
 dred, upon the good solid earth, in the old land, 
 instead of upon the unstable, though bewitch- 
 ing, world of waters. 
 
 '' The crew did not seem to know, nor yet to 
 care, whither we were bound. But I learned 
 from some concise bits of information dropped 
 at odd times by my chum, old Bill Morrison, 
 that we were bound for a port in Guatemala, 
 charged with some secret mission from the 
 British Government to that turbulent little 
 state. 
 
 "The discipline and work on the Seahawk 
 were very different from what I had been 
 accustomed to on the old barque Clyde. Not 
 only was everything in general good order, but 
 every bit of the ship was spotlessly clean and 
 neat. Every morning there was drill of one 
 kind or another, with or without arms, taking 
 in and setting sail, putting out the boat and 
 picking up something which represented a man 
 overboard, etc. 
 
 ** Besides a heavy stand of arms arranged in 
 
THE SEA-HAWK ^^2> 
 
 the cabin, the schooner mounted two guns, one 
 a rather heavy piece for a small craft, and the 
 other a beautiful little brass cannon of only 
 short range, but very handy and effective at 
 close quarters. At the time when I so uncere- 
 moniously joined the Seahawk, these pieces 
 were unmounted and stowed away in the hold, 
 but one day as we approached the coast they 
 were hoisted on deck, and put into position 
 ready for friendly salute or serious business. 
 
 '' So in due time we approached the Central- 
 American coast, and a very beautiful coast 
 most of it is, all along from Panama, almost up 
 to Vera Cruz in the Gulf of Mexico. In some 
 parts the sea is so transparent that the ocean 
 bed is as clearly visible at five or six fathoms 
 deep as a place at that distance would be in the 
 open air. And when the schooner happened 
 to be lying becalmed, or slowly and steadily 
 slipping along through the water so quietly that 
 the glassy surface of the sea was undisturbed 
 by splash or ripple, it was an entrancing occu- 
 pation for a green-horn like myself, during any 
 spare time, to get ensconced in some favourable 
 position, and gaze with wonder and delight 
 upon the various forms and splendid colours of 
 rocks, corals, waving marine vegetation, and 
 
384 THE QUEST OF 
 
 strange, beautiful living creatures flashing their 
 dazzling hues hither and thither. 
 
 *' When I first saw these glories of the tropic 
 seas, I marvelled how the men could coolly go 
 about their usual tasks, hardly ever looking 
 over the ship's side, or taking the least notice 
 of the gorgeous splendours that overwhelmed 
 me with amazement and delight. I was too 
 young and inexperienced in those happy days 
 to know the meaning of that old proverb, 
 'familiarity breeds contempt." But I have 
 learned many deplorable and sad things since 
 those old days, and the above miserable pro- 
 verb is one of them. 
 
 " We crept up the coast cautiously, slowly 
 feeling our way, for there were few charts of 
 any reliability of the Central American coasts 
 in those days. Every navigator had to depend 
 upon keeping a bright look-out. However, I 
 soon learned that Captain Murray had been on 
 that wonderful coast many times, and knew his 
 way about perfectly. 
 
 "At length w^e crossed the bar of Golfete, 
 with barely enough water to carry the schooner 
 over, and came to an anchor in as snug a little 
 cove as one could wish. 
 
 *'We were soon boarded by the Customs 
 
THE SEAHAWK 385 
 
 official in an old ramshackle boat, manned by a 
 tatterdemalion crew, all as merry as sandboys, 
 and chattering like magpies. With a few form- 
 alities, the principal of which was drinking 
 several glasses of our captain's wine, and pass- 
 ing a bottle down to his boatmen, much to their 
 delight and hilarity. El Capitan del Puerto 
 admitted us to pratique, and all the freedom of 
 the port, although I doubt if he had the slightest 
 notion what was the business which brought us 
 to his free-and-easy country. Like all Dagos ^ 
 he considered business a disagreeable necessity 
 which had to be attended to sometimes, but was 
 to be avoided whenever possible as no iTn- 
 portanciaX 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 '*When the affable Capitan del Puerto had 
 taken his departure, Captain Murray ordered 
 out the gig with a full crew — four oarsmen and 
 a helmsman. Bob Douglas and I with two 
 others were the rowers, and steady old William 
 Morrison was coxswain. It barely took five 
 
 ^ A common name with sailors for all Spanish South 
 Americans. 
 
 CC 
 
386 THE QUEST OF 
 
 minutes to have the boat out, and the captain 
 was ready in an instant and called ' Shove off,' 
 and away we went upon what seemed to me a 
 splendid pleasure jaunt, but it turned out to be 
 sad tragedy before the end. 
 
 "It was somewhat over six miles to the 
 landing, but with a splendid light boat, and 
 four stout rowers, we covered the distance in 
 less than an hour. We landed on an open 
 sandy beach a mile or two below Yzabel, 
 which was in those days a long straggling 
 town of adobe cottages with nicer looking 
 houses in favourable positions, surrounded by 
 beautiful gardens. The cathedral — a spacious 
 name for what was simply a humble little church 
 — stood on the slope of the foot-hills which 
 rose into great mountain peaks that were lost 
 in clouds and the raisty vapours drifting from 
 Guatemala's numerous volcanoes. 
 
 "When we landed the captain told Morrison 
 and me to go with him up to the village, and 
 the other three men to keep the boat, and he 
 added the warning, ' See that none of you 
 leave the boat for an instant; this is rather a 
 dangerous place.' 
 
 " We proved the truth of that assertion before 
 long; but at the moment I gave little heed to 
 
THE SEA HAWK 387 
 
 the captain's warning, and went carelessly and 
 happily into the queer old higgledy-piggledy 
 Dago town, trudging alongside of Bill Morrison 
 and staring hither and thither at anything that 
 attracted my attention, as though battle and 
 murder and sudden death were not the daily 
 excitements of a Dago's life. 
 
 " It was a bright sunny day, and the narrow 
 streets were crowded with men, women, children, 
 donkeys, fowls, pigs, dogs, cats, parrots, etc., 
 every one of them giving vent to their re- 
 spective feelings, in their own natural lingo. 
 It was a bit confusing, but what impressed 
 me most was the infinite good nature of all 
 hands. Not a burro kicked, not a woman 
 screamed at another, excepting in mirth, not a 
 man or woman growled or swore — if they did 
 it was the mildest swearing I ever heard — in 
 fact it seemed as if it were a day of some great 
 rejoicing, instead of (as I learned many a time 
 afterwards) the Dago's usual mode of taking 
 life. 
 
 "Captain Murray walked steadily on ahead, 
 while Morrison and I kept close in his rear. 
 As we went along, steering carefully through 
 the crowds, we did not seem to excite much 
 attention. If some happened to catch our eye 
 
388 THE QUEST OF 
 
 they merely whispered ' Forasteros ! ' stared at 
 us a moment, and turned again to their business, 
 or gossip, or whatever was on their minds, or 
 hands. 
 
 '' Near the top of the village street — or rather 
 road, for it was innocent of macadam — the crowd 
 became thinner, and the houses improved in 
 size and general appearance. After looking 
 about a bit, as if to make sure of his position, 
 the captain turned sharply into a spacious 
 courtyard, 'patio,' as the Spaniards call such 
 a place. It was a charming shady spot, with a 
 little fountain playing in the centre, which 
 watered some banana trees and several gorge- 
 ously blossoming hibiscus shrubs. The house 
 was arranged four-square around this court- 
 yard, and a very beautiful and comfortable 
 abode it seemed to be. 
 
 " The cool fountain, the beautiful crimson 
 flowers of the hibiscus, with the calm and silence 
 of the place, formed such a delightful contrast 
 to the glare and noise of the street, that I could 
 not resist giving expression to my feelings of 
 satisfaction and pleasure in some boyish ex- 
 clamation of admiration, a little too expressive 
 for exactly good manners, I am afraid. How- 
 ever that may have been, my ebullition did not 
 
THE SEA HAWK 389 
 
 seem to disturb any one excepting a little dog, 
 which instantly set about giving expression to 
 his feelings in a series of sharp protests at being 
 disturbed. This in turn aroused two ladies who 
 had evidently been taking their noonday siesta 
 in hammocks slung in the ample shade of the 
 broad veranda. 
 
 ** One lady sat up in her hammock and stared 
 at us with a careless, inquiring sort of look, as 
 if she were not too well pleased at being dis- 
 turbed. The other sprang out of her unsteady 
 couch (a hammock is an awkward thing for the 
 uninitiated to enter or leave safely, as every 
 sailor boy has found to his cost) in the smartest 
 and most graceful manner I ever saw the per- 
 formance accomplished! As she stood before us 
 in her long, loose, flowing garment, with her 
 splendid black hair falling around her perfectly 
 beautiful face, I thought her, and I think of her 
 yet as, the most lovely creature I ever beheld. 
 
 '' The lady stood stock-still, looking Captain 
 Murray straight in the eyes and, as she did so, 
 a faint flush came into her face and a wonder- 
 ful light gleamed in her great black eyes, and 
 then to my utter consternation she said the one 
 word, ' Hugh!' Surely there was not much to 
 startle me in that word! And I had almost 
 
390 THE QUEST OF 
 
 forgotten that it was our captain's Christian 
 name; but whatever was the cause I know that 
 the lady's voice thrilled my foolish young soul 
 as never before did human voice, or music, or 
 mortal sound. 
 
 '' In a moment Captain Murray caught her 
 in his arms and kissed her, then, still holding 
 each other's hands like a pair of children, and 
 utterly regardless of the rest of us, they sat 
 down on one of the settles that are always found 
 in Spanish patios, and began giving their full 
 hearts some sort of ease in words. As I said, 
 they paid no heed whatever to our presence, 
 and I do not remember feeling at all awkward, 
 or in the way, only Billy and I began admiring 
 the plants and flowers, and regaled ourselves 
 with a draught of the sparkling cool water. 
 
 " The other lady never moved from the 
 hammock, but occupied herself first in putting 
 up her hair, and then in talking to, and playing 
 with, the little dog which first announced our 
 arrival. Excepting the two ladies and the little 
 dog there did not seem to be any living creatures 
 about; if there were, they must have been taking 
 a profound siesta, which is, I think, more im- 
 portant to the Spanish constitution than meat 
 or drink. 
 
THE SEAHAWK 391 
 
 *' Things remained in stahi quo, or appeared 
 to remain, for perhaps nearly an hour, then I 
 saw that my shipmate was becoming restless 
 and uneasy. When we got behind the bananas 
 and were quite concealed from the captain and 
 the lady, Morrison whispered to me : 
 
 " ' Keep your hands and your legs ready, lad! 
 for I fear there is going to be trouble. A man 
 aye forgets danger when he foregathers with 
 the lass he lo'es. I hear folk moving in the 
 hoose ! ' 
 
 ''And at that moment I also heard foot- 
 steps quite distinctly. Then Morrison no longer 
 hesitated, but went quietly up to Captain 
 Murray and warned him. In a moment the 
 captain was on his feet, and kissing the lady's 
 hands, said in English, ' at midnight to-morrow, 
 Margarita! at the old ceiba tree!' Then we 
 three men passed quickly into the street and 
 started for the boat, walking at a good pace, 
 but at the same time avoiding all appearance 
 of haste. 
 
 " Captain Murray evidently knew every foot 
 of the way by heart, for although we made 
 several short cuts, we always came back into 
 the main road by which we had come from the 
 boat. 
 
392 THE QUEST OF 
 
 *' As we went along at our swinging pace, 
 and cutting off corners here and there, we came 
 in sight of the boat in about half the time it 
 took us to go from the boat to the top of the 
 village. And Morrison whispered to me that 
 he was very glad we had come to a peaceful 
 end ' o' this foolish lassie adventure o' the cap- 
 tains.' But just then an unexpected danger 
 appeared, and made me think that the ' adven- 
 ture ' was not quite at an end yet. 
 
 " The boat was lying about fifty fathoms or 
 so off shore, with our three shipmates laying 
 quietly on their oars waiting for us, as they had 
 been told to do. The neat boat on the calm 
 blue water made quite a pretty picture, but a 
 very ugly addition to the scene was a crowd of 
 ten or a dozen fierce looking men on the shore 
 gesticulating, yelling, and occasionally throwing 
 sand and clods of earth in the water, which 
 splashed uncomfortably near the boat. 
 
 '' As soon as our men saw us they began to 
 pull quietly in-shore, trying to land clear of the 
 yelling crowd of men, but that was impossible, 
 as the Spaniards moved along so as to get at 
 our men as soon as the boat touched the beach. 
 *'We learned afterwards what had set the 
 Dagos hopping mad, and it was a very foolish 
 
THE SEAHAWK 393 
 
 action on the part of our men, and shows * how 
 great a matter a little fire kindleth.' And this 
 was how that fire was kindled which nearly cost 
 us our lives. 
 
 *' While our boat was lying on the beach and 
 our men were sitting at their ease — the captain 
 had instructed them not to leave the boat on 
 any account — the gang of men who were now 
 thirsting for their blood came along laughing 
 and singing and shouting hilariously to our 
 fellows. When they reached the boat they 
 began some mild horse-play with our men, but 
 all in high good humour. Then they sat down 
 in a row on the beach in front of the boat as 
 she lay with her keel on the sand, and our men 
 sitting at their oars, ready to back off at a 
 moment s notice. 
 
 ''Thus matters continued for awhile, the 
 Dagos laughing and singing and sometimes 
 throwing a handful of sand at the bow of the 
 boat, but all in the utmost good humour and 
 fun. At last our fellows played the trick which 
 kindled the little fire which I referred to just 
 now. I have often played the game myself and 
 had it played on me, and it is all right if one 
 only keeps one's temper, and if one has nothing 
 on which will spoil with salt water. 
 
394 THE QUEST OF 
 
 " When our men thought that the Spaniards 
 had had enough of sport showering sand at the 
 bow of the boat, they decided to back out into 
 deep water and a safe distance from the shore. 
 As they began to backwater, Bob Douglas's 
 oar either accidentally or intentionally gave the 
 water a skiff and sent a beautiful spray shower- 
 ing over the laughing and shrieking Dagos. 
 Seeing the good effect of Bob's skiff the other 
 two men joined in the fun, and in a minute the 
 crowd of men were what Morrison graphically 
 described as ' drookit,' and instead of the merry, 
 laughing chaps they were a few minutes before, 
 they were a lot of howling maniacs thirsting for 
 blood. 
 
 ** Fortunately it was a fine sandy beach with- 
 out a stone to be seen anywhere, otherwise it 
 would have fared badly with Bob and his com- 
 rades. For the Dagos were now in deadly 
 earnest, and several of them, we learned, had 
 set off at a run towards a steep hillside about 
 half a mile inland where there was a quarry 
 with plenty of nice, handy bits of jagged stone, 
 admirably adapted to make a hole either in a 
 boat or in a man's head. 
 
 '' This was the precarious state of affairs 
 when the captain, Morrison, and I came upon 
 
THE SEAHAWK 395 
 
 the scene. Our commander was always quick 
 and resourceful, and these qualities were emin- 
 ently requisite for our fix that day. With a 
 quick signal with his handkerchief and a clear 
 whistle on two fingers, sailor fashion, he let 
 our men know that he wished them to pull in, 
 and then he, Morrison, and I turned and faced 
 the savage crowd. 
 
 ''Not having been in the scrimmage from the 
 beginning we were comparatively cool, although 
 I know that I for one realized only too well that 
 we were in a very desperate fix, and if we did 
 not manage to get away quickly, some of us, if 
 not all, might lose the number of our mess. 
 Quite calmly, and with a pleasant smile, the cap- 
 tain said a few words in Spanish to the angry 
 men. I know that his Spanish vocabulary was 
 rather limited, but he evidently made the most 
 of it that day to soothe the Dagos' wounded 
 feelings. Of course at that moment we could 
 not imagine what had excited the crowd to such 
 a pitch of wrath, but we judged by the * drookit ' 
 state of the Dagos that our men were somehow 
 to blame. 
 
 ''Unfortunately the 'soft answer which turn- 
 eth away wrath' did not achieve its legitimate re- 
 sult that day, for the crowd no sooner discovered 
 
396 THE QUEST OF 
 
 that they had a man who understood their lingo, 
 than they poured forth their protests and curses, 
 for some indignity which they had suffered. 
 Then they went through a most ingenious 
 demonstration of what would satisfy their amour 
 propre. Three of them lay down on the sand, 
 fiat on their faces, and after pointing at the boat 
 the others pretended to belabour them with nice 
 handy sticks. This of course meant that if our 
 men in the boat submitted to this ordeal, they 
 would all cry quits, and shake hands! This 
 would indeed have been quid pro quo with a 
 vengeance; but Captain Murray frowned upon 
 the exhibition — although I think he felt more 
 inclined to laugh — and shook his head vigor- 
 ously. 
 
 '* As our boat touched the beach the Dagos 
 made a rush evidently with hostile intentions, 
 and as we saw the fellows returning who we 
 judged had been sent for stones to pelt the 
 boat, we all knew that prompt action alone 
 would save us from a severe drubbing, if not a 
 worse fate. 
 
 *' The captain ordered Morrison and me to 
 jump into the boat, and he slued bravely round 
 upon the yelling m£)b, to cover our retreat. 
 For a single moment the Spaniards staggered 
 
THE SEA HAWK 397 
 
 back, cowed, as the common sort always are by 
 the dauntless bearing of those they feel to be 
 their far-and-away superiors in mind, and there- 
 fore in body. But at this critical juncture the 
 encouraging shout of what turned out to be the 
 stone contingent came clear and distinct, and 
 the crowd with renewed courage made another 
 rush. 
 
 ''At that moment, when I really thought it 
 was all up with us, one of our men — Jack Forbes 
 was the hero's name — seized the boat's tiller, and 
 in less time than I take to recount it, played 
 the prettiest game of single-stick I ever saw! 
 The tiller was a nice bit of old elm, about three 
 feet long, solid, tough, and heavy. As the crowd 
 bore the Captain down by sheer weight of 
 numbers, after he had sent two of the rascals 
 spinning to the rear, howling and bewailing 
 their noses. Jack Forbes and the tiller came 
 into the game. I never saw anything like 
 it! One moment there were eight or ten men 
 over Captain Murray, the next (it really only 
 seemed a moment) these eight or ten men were 
 either sprawling, or lying quite quiet on the 
 sand, and troubling nobody. All this brought 
 about by a few neat taps performed by an 
 active young man with a boat's tiller! 
 
398 THE QUEST OF 
 
 ''It was wonderful, and most admirable, but 
 we had no time just then to admire it properly, 
 for the stone-carriers were upon us, with deadly- 
 weapons in their hands, whereas their now 
 silent comrades had been quite weaponless. 
 Just as they came over the last sand-hill, yelling 
 and shouting, we seized our oars, and although 
 several stones dashed the water in our faces, 
 not one hit the boat. 
 
 " So ended that day's adventure, with no 
 more harm than a hustling to the captain — he 
 was not even scratched — but it was a close 
 shave. Perhaps you will say that ' all 's well 
 that ends well.' But it was not ended, and that 
 was the pity of it, for there was another, and 
 a sadder, adventure afterwards. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 "We reached the schooner without further 
 mishap, but all that afternoon we kept a sharp 
 look-out lest the Dagos should get additions to 
 their number, and boldly decide to seek revenge 
 by making an attack upon the schooner. There 
 had been several instances of small craft being 
 cut out on the coast either for real or imagined 
 
THE SEAHAWK 399 
 
 wrongs. Of course with us there was very little 
 danger, for with our cannon and plenty of small 
 arms we were more than a match for any force 
 the Spaniards could bring against us. 
 
 "At the time I am telling you of, all the Cen- 
 tral American States were more or less in chaos 
 and the various governments existed more in 
 name than in reality. Spain had lost, or was 
 fast losing, her hold of all her once vast over- 
 seas possessions : and those States, when left to 
 themselves with their mixie-maxy populations, 
 seemed then — as some of them seem to this 
 day — quite unable to govern themselves de- 
 cently. So when crafts went a-cruising on those 
 seas it behoved their crews to be stout and 
 alert, and ready for anything that might turn 
 up. 
 
 " The morning after our serio-comic brush 
 with the Dagos, the bo'sun piped all hands aft 
 to hear something which the captain had to 
 say to them, and which it was important they 
 should know. 
 
 "When we were all mustered, Captain Murray 
 came up the companion ladder, and took his 
 stand at the break of the quarter-deck, which 
 was a good position to address his audience. 
 Standing, as he did, a couple or three feet higher 
 
400 THE QUEST OF 
 
 than the rest of us, every one could hear and see 
 him without looking under, or over, his neigh- 
 bour s head. 
 
 ** He was always a pleasant man to look at, 
 was our captain, and his habitual expression 
 was rather that of good comradeship than the 
 stern expression which most commanders either 
 possess naturally, or acquire by regarding their 
 crews as flocks more properly driven, after the 
 fashion of western flock-masters, than enticed 
 along, as is the poetic and gentle custom of 
 eastern shepherds. 
 
 " That day, however, we all noticed that 
 Captain Murray was somehow a changed man. 
 His usually good natured, easy manner had 
 given place to such a stern determined ex- 
 pression of look and bearing, that it set the 
 men nudging each other, as though they were 
 saying: * Now we shall know the quest of the 
 Seahawk, and have some exciting times.' 
 
 '* The captain did not keep us long in sus- 
 pense. Grasping the rail which ran athwart- 
 ships at the break of the quarter-deck, he looked 
 steadily at us all, and said: 
 
 " * I have called you together, men, to explain 
 to you why we are here, and to tell you what I 
 hope to accomplish, with your help. I won't 
 
THE SEAHAWK 401 
 
 keep you long, and when I have done, all who 
 intend to follow me Implicitly will stand over 
 to starboard. And all those who hesitate in the 
 least degree will slue to port. We have all 
 been in tight places together, and I have never 
 found one of you fail me! But this time the 
 circumstances are different, and you may think 
 too dangerous, with too little prospect of profit 
 to make it worth your while to engage in the 
 adventure. And I had better say at once that 
 I shall not coerce a single one of you to follow 
 me on what will be a dangerous, in fact a de- 
 sperate, undertaking. But whether you decide 
 to go with me to the end or not, I shall certainly 
 try to carry out my plan, even if I stand alone. 
 " ' You have all been with me several years, 
 that is, all except James Gordon, who only 
 shipped at the beginning of this voyage ' (here 
 the captain's serious face relaxed into a smile, 
 and most of the men went into broad grins, 
 while I felt my face flushing confusedly) " and I 
 know you all well enough to feel certain that 
 every one of you will be doing what you think 
 right and proper, whichever side of the deck 
 you take. Moreover, I think that every one 
 of you know me well enough to feel convinced 
 that what I am going to attempt is right and 
 
 D D 
 
402 THE QUEST OF 
 
 proper, or I would not attempt it, much less 
 ask your assistance. 
 
 '' ' Four years ago I laid the schooner up in 
 Kingston, leaving you all on full wages, while 
 I went home to see my people after being parted 
 from them for several years. I was absent on 
 that trip nearly a year, and although I think 
 you must have had a pretty easy time of it, yet 
 I also think that you were all jolly glad to see 
 me back again, and to get once more into active 
 service! ' 
 
 " Here every man raised his cap, and said 
 in a genuine tone, which showed that the words 
 came from the heart, 'Yes, sir!' The captain 
 was evidently pleased, for he smiled and pro- 
 ceeded in a more cheerful voice. 
 
 '' * On that visit home my sister introduced me 
 to a friend of hers, a Spanish young lady who 
 had been sent to Edinburgh by her father in 
 Guatemala for her education. It so happened 
 that my sister was in the same school and same 
 class as this young lady — Margarita Alvaro — 
 daughter of an officer in a high position in this 
 very port of Yzabel which I visited yesterday, 
 and where some of you foolishly got into trouble 
 with the people, which was a great pity, and 
 may, I fear, lead to further trouble. 
 
THE SEAHAWK 403 
 
 ** * My sister and the young lady I refer to 
 had been class-mates for some years and were 
 very much attached to each other. Margarita 
 was frequently at my mother's house. In fact, 
 she almost lived there, being my sister's con- 
 stant companion, and, having few other friends, 
 my mother's house was really her home. 
 
 " * As I have told you, I went home for the 
 express purpose of seeing my family, and having 
 no business whatever to occupy my attention, I 
 spent all my time with them. In this way I was 
 almost daily in Margarita's society, and the 
 natural consequence was that we loved each 
 other and became engaged. She was, and is, 
 the most beautiful lady I ever met, and her 
 mind and disposition are as true, good, and 
 noble, as her person is beautiful ! 
 
 " ' I lingered in Edinburgh to take the same 
 ship for Jamaica in which her father had taken 
 passage for the senorita. Her father had 
 arranged to meet her in Kingston, and as soon 
 as we arrived he came on board. That was just 
 three years ago, as you all, no doubt, remember, 
 and from that day I never saw her again until 
 yesterday ! At long intervals we have got letters 
 through to each other, and I have learned that 
 her father has used all means, short of violence, 
 
404 THE QUEST OF 
 
 to force her to marry the Governor of the State, 
 a man in high authority at present, and who 
 will be President when Guatemala attains the 
 independence which is shortly expected. Yes- 
 terday I planned with Margarita to rescue her 
 from her miserable life. At midnight she and 
 her maid will be at the great ceiba tree which 
 you can see yonder, near to where we landed 
 yesterday. About once a year or so, that old 
 tree has been our faithful post office, where we 
 have exchanged letters by leaving them in a 
 spot where a branch has been broken off" and 
 left a nice, dry cavity. William Morrison knows 
 of all this, and he also knows that twice before 
 yesterday he and I have gone, at much risk of 
 our lives, to Don Alvaro's house; but in both 
 cases I failed to see Margarita. And, unfor- 
 tunately, on both occasions I had stormy inter- 
 views with her father, which has not improved 
 matters. But yesterday I learned from Mar- 
 garita that her father is absent on a visit to 
 some friends on the West Coast. And she has 
 decided to fly with me to Jamaica, and we shall 
 be married ere Don Alvaro hears a word about 
 his daughter's flight. 
 
 " ' A couple of hours after midnight (that is 
 when Dagos sleep soundest) I want twelve men 
 
THE SEAHAWK 405 
 
 in the longboat, with muffled oars, of course. 
 We shall land in a thicket of pampas grass and 
 manzanita which I saw yesterday. That spot is 
 within ten minutes hard run of the ceiba tree. 
 As quietness and secrecy are absolutely neces- 
 sary, I shall only take two of you with me when 
 we land, but we shall take some rockets with us, 
 and if we unfortunately are attacked we shall 
 signal for the rest of you to rush to the rescue. 
 We must make as little noise as possible, and 
 for that reason you who go ashore with me 
 must only be armed with knife and cutlass. I 
 know that the sort of Spaniards we are likely 
 to meet will have no fire-arms, and, as I have 
 said, it is important that we keep as quiet as 
 possible. Of course, you who remain on the 
 ship will have an anxious time, but you must 
 keep on the alert, and see to it that your arms 
 are in good order, and the two cannon loaded 
 and primed. I shall give the chief officer all 
 directions how to act in case I do not return. 
 
 ** ' Now, men, I think that is all I have to 
 say at present. The only thing that remains is 
 for all who will support me in this desperate 
 undertaking (for I know quite well it is de- 
 sperate after the way we sent those fellows 
 raving-mad yesterday) to stand over to star- 
 
4o6 THE QUEST OF 
 
 board, and all those who think it a foolish, 
 wrong, and too dangerous adventure to be un- 
 dertaken by quiet God-fearing seamen, stand 
 over to port/ 
 
 " The crew, as if they had been on drill, 
 stepped like one man to starboard, and so sud- 
 denly did they go that our beautiful little craft 
 felt the impulse, and heeled over a few inches, 
 which gave solemn old Bill Morrison the chance 
 to get off the joke of his life. 
 
 *' ' Three cheers for the captain, mates ! The 
 Seahawk is bowing her approval, as well as the 
 rest of us!' 
 
 *' This sally so tickled the crew that they gave 
 Captain Murray three rousing cheers. But even 
 that did not seem enough to their simple, kindly, 
 British hearts, after the generous manly way in 
 which the captain had taken them into his con- 
 fidence. Old Morrison soon jaloused their feel- 
 ings, and did the proper, kindly action, at the 
 right moment, which is so rarely done in this 
 world, more 's the pity! The good old seaman 
 doffed his cap, and, stepping briskly across the 
 deck, seized Captain Murray's hand, and shook 
 it warmly like a true comrade and loyal ship- 
 mate. This gave the rest their cue, and every 
 man followed suit, and if ever the captain felt 
 
THE SEAHAWK 407 
 
 doubtful of his men before that morning I don t 
 think he ever had any doubt of their loyalty 
 after that splendid demonstration. 
 
 CHAPTER VH 
 
 " Two hours after midnight twelve of us left in 
 the schooner's longboat. The captain took the 
 helm himself, as he knew exactly where the 
 landing was which would afford a o-ood hidino-- 
 place for the boat. Of course, our oars were 
 muffled, and, as we had received strict orders 
 not to shuffle our feet, or even to whisper to 
 each other, excepting to pass an order along 
 from man to man, we glided over the calm 
 water as absolutely noiseless as though we had 
 been a com.pany of ghosts in a phantom boat. 
 
 '' After what I judged to be about an hour of 
 this silent voyaging, we drew near the shore, 
 and the order was whispered along, ' cease row- 
 ing,' and then 'unship oars.' And the boat 
 slid into a thicket of great, tall reeds, and over- 
 hanging bushes which enclosed us on all sides, 
 leaving us only exposed to the glorious tropical 
 sky. When we had unshipped our oars, we 
 
4o8 THE QUEST OF 
 
 slowly and silently pulled the boat along by the 
 reeds, or whatever we could lay hold of, and pre- 
 sently we felt the keel grate on the shingle, and 
 then we knew that we had touched solid land. 
 
 '* Each one of us had been given our orders 
 before we left the schooner, so there was not 
 the least confusion or misunderstanding. Cap- 
 tain Murray landed first, then Bill Morrison, 
 and I followed close behind. The rest of the 
 men had been instructed to remain in the boat 
 absolutely motionless and silent, until we re- 
 turned, or until they saw a rocket sent up, when 
 they would know that we had been discovered, 
 and attacked, in which case six men were to 
 rush to our help, and the others to keep the 
 boat with their lives! 
 
 " When we landed no word was spoken by 
 any one. The captain, Morrison, and I kept 
 close together, pushing our way through the 
 tangled pampas grass and scrubby bush. After 
 we got clear of the thicket we had to cross a 
 perfectly open stretch of ground, a mile, perhaps, 
 wide. This was, of course, a dangerous piece of 
 navigation, for we were quite exposed to prying 
 eyes from any direction. However, no one saw 
 us, or if they did they never molested us, maybe 
 wishing us to fall into the trap which I have no 
 
THE SEA HAWK 409 
 
 doubt they had set, having, I suppose, discovered 
 by some means the secret assignation which 
 Captain Murray and the lady had made. 
 
 '' I have often wondered since that adventure 
 (as we are all prone to wonder after the event) 
 whether it would not have been wiser to take 
 our whole available force that night, prepared 
 to cut our way through any opposition quickly 
 and effectively. And again, whether it were not 
 sheer madness for three unarmed — at least, not 
 visibly armed — men to walk through the town 
 In broad daylight, as we had done. The Guate- 
 mala Dagos did not love us British at that time, 
 but they had the sense as a rule to behave peace- 
 ably. So I suppose our captain depended upon 
 that, and determined to see the lady at all hazards, 
 and boldly face the consequences. He had been 
 at Don Alvaro's mansion before, and knew how 
 to find his way there again ; and, as it turned out, 
 he and Margarita were very fortunate in their 
 meeting, as I have told you. And in spite of 
 the obliterating effects of time, and a sailor's 
 rough-and-tumble life, I have always been 
 thankful to God that they had that quiet, happy 
 meeting In this world of sorrow and mischance. 
 
 *' When we came near to the edge of the 
 forest country, there was a clear long-drawn 
 
4IO THE QUEST OF 
 
 whistle from some invisible source, and imme- 
 diately thereafter two dark-clad figures rushed 
 out from the wood, and the next moment Mar- 
 garita and her maid were in our midst, the lady 
 saying in a breathless whisper, as she clasped 
 the captain's hand, 'Fly, Hugh! Fly! We are 
 betrayed — fly at once! Leave me! They dare 
 not injure me\ ' 
 
 ** With a hurried salute to the lady. Captain 
 Murray told Morrison to send up a rocket, 
 which he did as quickly as he could light the 
 fuse, and the beautiful, gleaming signal went 
 straight up like a living thing that knew the 
 importance of its message. In less than half a 
 minute we saw two others go up in reply to ours, 
 one from the boat, and one from the schooner, 
 and we knew that faithful hearts and strong 
 hands were on the way to our assistance. But 
 we were fully aware that it would take them 
 some considerable time, even if no mishap be- 
 fell them, to reach us. 
 
 '' To our right, and quite clear of the dense 
 forest, there stood a great tree (which I learned 
 was the ceiba where the captain and the lady 
 had arranged to meet) and as we heard voices 
 coming nearer and nearer, we decided to seek 
 refuge under its splendid shelter. It would have 
 
THE SEAHAWK 411 
 
 been madness to face overwhelming numbers 
 in the open: but with the great trunk of the 
 tree to save us from a rear attack, there was 
 considerable hope that we could withstand an 
 assault until the rescue party reached us. 
 
 *' Of course the lovers' plans had all mis- 
 carried. They had reckoned that Margarita 
 could reach the ceiba tree without an alarm 
 being raised, and Captain Murray had arranged 
 things for a quiet, safe escape off to the schooner. 
 
 '' But either there had been a spy in Don 
 Alvaro's house, who had betrayed the whole 
 matter, and reported the true destination of the 
 two ladies (when they sauntered out apparently 
 for an evening stroll), and set armed men to 
 intercept the elopement, and possibly take 
 Murray and some of his men prisoners, and 
 thus raise a grand political crisis — a thing dear 
 to the Dago's heart! — or else the gang of vil- 
 lagers, whose savage ire Bob Douglas and the 
 others had thoroughly roused by the wetting 
 they gave them, had determined to have re- 
 venge by hook or by crook, and had just prowled 
 about watching for any chance that might turn 
 up. And as ' Satan finds some mischief still 
 for idle hands to do,' these idle vagabonds were 
 the sole cause of the mischief, or perhaps 
 
412 THE QUEST OF 
 
 Satan, doubting their efficiency, if alone, to deal 
 with us, had induced some one in Don Alvaro's 
 household to send out a contingent to spy upon 
 the sefiorita, and make trouble if any thing 
 turned up, and then by joining the two parties 
 he was sure to win, as he too often does win in 
 this world! How it all came about I can only 
 surmise, for I don't know for certain; but I 
 know that when the real fight developed, we 
 were hopelessly overmatched, and if the rescue 
 had not arrived in time you would never have 
 heard the sequel of that adventure, at any rate 
 not from me. 
 
 " We had hardly gotten into position — Cap- 
 tain Murray in the middle, Morrison on his 
 right, I on his left, with the two ladies crouch- 
 ing down in a hollow of the trunk of the great 
 tree behind us — when more than twenty men 
 came rushing forward, evidently knowing exactly 
 where to find us, doubly convincing me, when- 
 ever I reflect upon it, that they were the Alvaro 
 family contingent, who had been carefully in- 
 structed where to go, and how to act if they 
 were resisted. 
 
THE SEAHAWK 41 
 
 CHAPTER VHI 
 
 *' In those days, especially in out-of-the-way 
 parts of the world, the percussion cap firearm 
 had not yet come much into fashion, and the 
 heavy old flint-lock musket was still in general 
 use. But in a hastily arranged expedition like 
 the one now attacking us, the Spaniards — as a 
 rule — were only armed with swords and handy 
 knives, but these were generally of the splendid 
 Toledo quality; and most effective weapons 
 they were at close quarters. 
 
 '' On our side, Captain Murray was the only 
 one of us who carried a pair of the newly in- 
 vented percussion pistols. Why he did not arm 
 us all in the same manner I don't know — unless 
 it was for fear that in case of meeting opposition 
 we might, in our excitement, use these danger- 
 ous things prematurely, and so do more harm 
 than good to our cause. The captain had 
 strongly impressed upon us all before we left 
 the schooner that our enterprise was absolutely 
 one of peace; and not a man on our side was to 
 raise a hand until he, Murray, gave the signal 
 to fight! 
 
414 THE QUEST OF 
 
 " The first gleam of the tropical dawn was 
 breaking as the Dagos charged, and we could 
 make a pretty good estimate of their numbers, 
 and plainly see their arrangements, as they came 
 straight at us, without apparently expecting us 
 to show fight at all. But in that they were 
 making a foolish mistake, as the Spaniards 
 have so often done, when taking the cool ap- 
 pearance of British men under some desperate 
 circumstance for pusillanimity. 
 
 ** When the squad was within a few yards of 
 us. Captain Murray called in a quick, sharp 
 tone, as if he were giving the order to his own 
 men — only of course he spoke in Spanish — 
 'Stand!' The Dagos pulled up, and stood stock- 
 still; indeed they obeyed a great deal more 
 quickly than they would have done at the slip- 
 slop sort of command of their own officers. 
 Our captain went a yard or two nearer to the 
 gang, and said — again in Spanish : 
 
 " * If you come a step nearer to us you will be 
 killed! If you do not molest us, we will not 
 molest you ! ' 
 
 '' The officer who seemed to be the leader of 
 the party was a tall, fine looking man, and by 
 some whispered angry words between the young 
 ladies it flashed through my mind — youth is 
 
THE SEAHAWK 415 
 
 quick at these discoveries — that he was the man 
 whom her father wished Margarita to marry. 
 Whether this was actually the case, of course 
 I do not know; but certainly when Captain 
 Murray ceased speaking and stepped back to us, 
 the officer turned fiercely to his men, and said 
 some words which evidently roused their cour- 
 age, or hate, or other passions, for with a wild 
 yell they drew their swords and charged point- 
 blank at us. 
 
 *' Morrison and I quickly had our cutlasses 
 in position, but the captain prepared to give 
 the chargers a taste of shot first, and afterwards 
 cold steel. As the tall officer came carefully 
 over the rough broken ground, a fathom or two 
 in advance of his men. Captain Murray again 
 called 'Stand!' and he levelled his heavy double- 
 barrelled pistol: then, after a moment's pause, 
 there was a flash and a ringing report, and the 
 leader fell forward on his face, and lay quite still. 
 At this the Spaniards hesitated, drew back a bit, 
 and stared at their silent comrade as if debating 
 in their minds whether to fly or make another 
 dash at us. Perhaps a touch of shame — they 
 being in such overwhelming numbers in com- 
 parison with us — decided them ; but whatever 
 it was, with a shout of rage the whole gang 
 
4i6 THE QUEST OF 
 
 made at us again. Before they reached our 
 swords' points, Captain Murray accounted for 
 three more of them, and then they were upon us! 
 
 " Four of the twenty odd men of whom the 
 party originally consisted were quiet enough by 
 this time; but there were still enough stout 
 fellows left to make four or five to one against 
 us: altogether too long odds, when it came to 
 close quarters, to leave us much chance. 
 
 " The Spaniards are, as a rule, very handy 
 with bits of steel, either swords or knives. And 
 in those days they had plenty of practice both 
 among themselves and with foreigners, and, as 
 I say, they were exceedingly clever with their 
 weapons in finding the exact spot in a man's 
 body to let out his life with the least possible 
 amount of trouble. 
 
 ''We had much practice at cutlass drill on 
 the Seahawk, our drill-master being William 
 Morrison, who was an expert at the game. He 
 taught us many clever things with that handy 
 weapon. One smart trick was how to whip off 
 our jackets, and wrap up our left arms to use as 
 shields, all to be done in the twinkling of an 
 eye, in case we were caught unawares. And it 
 was well for me that clever old William had 
 taught me the game properly, or I would never 
 
THE SEAHAWK 417 
 
 have come out of that scrimmage to tell the 
 tale. 
 
 " Several of the Dagos engaged us in front, 
 while the others made a dash round behind, 
 evidently intending to take us in flank, getting 
 what shelter was possible by sticking close to 
 the tree. 
 
 '' Captain Murray called to Morrison and me 
 to guard the approach from each side, while he 
 took care of the fellows in front, which he did 
 with wonderful dexterity, for in five minutes or 
 less he put six or seven more of his assailants 
 hors de combat as safely as those he had brought 
 down with his pistols. But he still continued 
 to be hody engaged with the rest of the gang, 
 who did not seem to be at all daunted by the 
 fate of their comrades. 
 
 '' Morrison and I had brought down a man 
 apiece, without suffering a scratch ourselves. 
 But we were all becoming more or less blown 
 by our terrible exertions, and were eagerly 
 hoping for the arrival of our rescue. 
 
 " Margarita and her companion had remained 
 absolutely quiet (excepting for the passionate 
 words I heard at the beginning of the fight), 
 huddled down in a hollow of the great roots of 
 the ceiba tree. Now we were startled and con- 
 
 E E 
 
4i8 THE QUEST OF 
 
 fused by cries of ' El fuego! El fuego! " in wild 
 screams from the terror-stricken girls. The 
 cause was not far to seek. The Spaniards, 
 finding, I suppose, that they could not dislodge 
 us by fair means, had taken to foul. Just be- 
 yond reach of our swords, and hidden from our 
 view by the tree, they were putting fire to the 
 dry grass and masses of withered leaves, know- 
 ing that once the fire was set agoing it would 
 sweep around the tree; and then it would be 
 death for us by fire or sword! 
 
 ** At this critical moment there came — and it 
 was the sweetest strain of music I had ever 
 heard up to that hour of my life — the sharp, 
 clear, well-known signal of our Bosun's whistle! 
 and we knew that our comrades were close at 
 hand. But the Dagos also knew it, and made a 
 final and desperate charge. 
 
 '' When their blood is up Spaniards can make 
 as gallant an end as most men. It is in cool 
 courage — 'the waiting time,' as Napoleon 
 called it — when their fiery southern blood be- 
 comes pale and cold, that they fail. So according 
 to their nature, when they heard the whistle, 
 and realized that our rescue was at hand, they 
 never showed a scrap of the white feather — 
 they were too madly excited for that — they only 
 
THE SEAHAWK 419 
 
 redoubled their efforts to cut us three men down 
 ere our rescue reached us. 
 
 " Not waiting for the fire to dislodge us, they 
 made a combined, fierce assault from each side, 
 and direct in front; and then our tragic calamity- 
 befell us. A clever, active little fellow, stripped 
 to the waist — one of our front assailants — sprang 
 ahead of his comrades, with his sword aimed 
 straight at our captain's heart. His spring was 
 so sudden, and so utterly regardless of the 
 fellow's own life, that it actually put me in mind 
 — at that awful moment — of a gallant and fearful 
 charge of a Spanish knight upon a Moorish horse- 
 man, which was described both in print and by 
 picture in an old book in my father's library. 
 
 ** I suppose it was impossible to parry the 
 reckless attack of the Spaniard, as the whole 
 weight of the man, and his impetuous rush, 
 carried him close up to Murray, in spite of the 
 latter's sword going clean through the fellow's 
 body! At that fatal instant, with a cry of endear- 
 ment, Margarita threw herself on her lover's 
 breast, intending, no doubt, to shield him; and 
 so she did to some extent, but it was at the 
 cost of her own life, for although the captain 
 tried to swing her clear, it was too late to avoid 
 the fierce thrust of the Spaniard's sword, which 
 
420 THE QUEST OF 
 
 not only went through her body, but also went 
 far enough into Murray's breast to make me 
 feel certain that he too was beyond all earthly 
 weal or woe. 
 
 " All three fell without a word or groan, and 
 at that moment our rescue party of brave fellows 
 rushed up, with cries of encouragement for us, 
 and some sharp cuts and thrusts for the Dagos. 
 Then there was silence. The Spaniards, or 
 rather those of them who survived, vanished in- 
 stantly, and we turned ourattention to the captain 
 and the lady. When the fatal sword was with- 
 drawn, and they were tenderly laid side by side, 
 it was evident to the least experienced of us 
 that Margarita was quite dead; and indeed so 
 seemed the captain, but as his wound still bled 
 rather freely, we hoped this was a sign that life 
 was not quite extinct. We brought water from 
 a little spring near by, and while Margarita s 
 maid attended to her mistress, and while the 
 more experienced of our men attended to the 
 captain, the rest of us turned all our energy to the 
 task of extinguishing the fire, which fortunately, 
 owing to the stillness of the morning, had not 
 yet taken a strong hold ; and with water brought 
 from the spring in caps, boots, duck jackets, etc., 
 we soon put an end to that terrible danger. 
 
THE SEAHAWK 421 
 
 ** It was marvellous how we escaped scatheless 
 — all excepting our captain — in that wild melee 
 with the Spaniards. But if the rescue had not 
 arrived in the nick of time, we would have been 
 driven out of our strong position by the fire, 
 and then Morrison and I would have been at 
 the Dagos' mercy, and would have had a very 
 short shrift. 
 
 *' After freeing ourselves, and especially the 
 dead girl and her companion, from the danger of 
 the fire, our next duty was to decide what to 
 do with the body of captain Murray, for by this 
 time we had concluded him to be a dead man. 
 As for poor, beautiful Margarita, all we could 
 get from her companion was an urgent admoni- 
 tion to depart at once, as a strong detachment 
 would certainly be sent out as soon as the state 
 of affairs was reported by the men who had run 
 away. I never saw such splendid calmness as 
 the cool way this young woman urged us to 
 escape, while she knelt beside her dead friend, 
 lovingly arranging the masses of splendid black 
 hair like a Glory around the beautiful white face. 
 
 " As this calm, sensible young lady knew the 
 whole circumstances of the sad case, and that 
 Margarita had met her death at the hands of one 
 of her own people, and as it was quite impossible 
 
422 THE QUEST OF 
 
 for us to help the dead Margarita, or the living 
 girl — who kept vehemently urging us to escape 
 — we concluded that we had better do as she 
 advised, although it went sorely against the 
 grain to leave the poor young thing alone with 
 her dead! 
 
 *' Matters being in this position, — and it being 
 almost a certainty that we would be annihilated 
 if we did not make our escape quickly — we 
 hastily constructed a litter, and laying the 
 captain thereon, silently doffed our caps to the 
 two ladies, and departed from that strange, sad 
 scene, which had cost all concerned so dearly! 
 
 ** Fortunately we encountered neither man 
 nor woman on our way to the boat, which we 
 reached without further incident or mishap. 
 We marched very slowly and carefully, fearing 
 that a stumble or sudden movement might 
 extinguish the last spark of life that still possibly 
 flickered in our captain's heart. Very quietly, 
 but with all speed, we pushed the boat out of 
 the clump of bushes and water-flags, and pulled 
 away down the harbour to the Seakawk, present- 
 ing a very dismal and depressing spectacle to 
 our anxiously waiting shipmates, as we ran 
 alongside. 
 
 ** After laying Captain Murray on his bed, 
 
THE SEAHAWK 423 
 
 and deputing old Bill Morrison as nurse, who 
 was still the freshest of us all in spite of his 
 three score years, and who would not leave the 
 captain, although he himself sorely needed rest 
 — as indeed we all did — the mate ordered the 
 men to run up the anchor, and set all plain sail. 
 
 " The light morning breeze was fortunately 
 from the west, and so gave us a fair wind for 
 running down the gulf and crossing the bar. 
 The Seahawk only drew eight feet aft, and we 
 managed to slide over the shallow stretch with 
 no further excitement than scraping up the 
 mud a bit and perhaps alarming the flukes and 
 other inhabitants of the soft, cool, peaceful 
 mud-flats. 
 
 " The westerly breeze did not die down as it 
 usually does towards noon on the coast, but 
 sent us along at eight or nine knots all that day 
 and night. Next day it drew a couple of points 
 to the north, but still we were able to lay a 
 course for Jamaica, our object being to reach 
 Kingston as quickly as possible on account of 
 Captain Murray, for by this time we all began 
 to hope that the lamp of life still burned. But if 
 it did, it burned so dimly that we feared unless 
 we found more skilful medicos than even good 
 old Bill Morrison and our smart second mate — 
 
424 THE QUEST OF 
 
 who had acquired his medical acumen by answer- 
 ing the door bell in a surgeon s office for a year 
 just before he ran away to sea at the mature age 
 of thirteen years — that the feeble iiame would 
 go out altogether. 
 
 '' But the good God's breeze held on finely, 
 and we reached Kingston after a remarkably 
 short run from the coast. We soon had a couple 
 of surgeons from the fleet, and after doing all 
 that was possible for the wounded man, and 
 holding out some feeble hopes of his possible 
 recovery, they left one of their own trained 
 nurse-men to watch and to signal when there 
 was any sign of a change. The doctors advised 
 that the captain should remain on the schooner, 
 as moving him in his present condition would 
 be certain to extinguish any flickering flame of 
 life that might still be remaining. 
 
 *' Awnings were rigged fore and aft, and the 
 ship was kept as cool as possible and absolutely 
 quiet. Besides the surgeon's nurse-man, the 
 mate appointed Bill Morrison and me to attend 
 upon the captain, taking watch turn and turn 
 about. I know that old Bill Morrison was a 
 most suitable man for the position, but why 
 the mate chose an inexperienced youngster 
 like me for such an important duty I do not 
 
THE SEAHAWK 425 
 
 know, unless he had an inkling of my deep 
 affection for Captain Murray, and thought that 
 feeling amply qualified me for the onerous posi- 
 tion in spite of my youth and inexperience. 
 
 "■ On the second night after our arrival in 
 Kingston it was my watch in the captain's 
 cabin from twelve midnight to two a.m. Every- 
 thing was absolutely silent, no bells being struck, 
 and the men on deck slipping about with bare 
 feet, and any order by an officer, or response by a 
 man, being passed in whispers. Morrison and the 
 man-o'-war nurse were both sound asleep in the 
 main cabin, as I could hear by a mild, occasional 
 snore, when to my intense joy, but at the same 
 time to my amazement and awe, as though I 
 had seen the wraith of one I loved (which in a 
 manner was the case, for all we who had been in 
 it from the beginning still supposed him to be 
 actually dead, although we kept on trying to 
 hope he was yet alive), the captain raised his 
 right hand, and turned his head a little, and 
 looked at me with clear intelligent eyes, proving 
 that he was perfectly conscious. 
 
 " There was only one bunk in the cabin, a 
 comfortable, wide bed, raised about three feet 
 from the deck. The lamp was turned low so 
 as only to afford a very subdued light, but yet 
 
426 THE QUEST OF 
 
 quite sufficient to enable me to note the startling 
 change in the captain's face ; the change from 
 the solemn, calm aloofness of the dead, to the 
 mobile, sympathetic expression of the living. 
 I have said that I felt amazement and awe, but 
 my young heart was overpowered by the still 
 stronger passion, love, and I slid to my knees 
 beside the bed and kissed my captain s pale 
 lips, and as I did so he laid his hand on my — 
 then — curly, bushy head and whispered: 
 
 '"Good lad! good, brave lad!' And that is 
 the most prized commendation I ever received 
 in a lonof career not devoid of commendations 
 and highly-valued medals, etc. 
 
 *' Captain Murray quite recovered, much to 
 the astonishment of the doctors and everybody 
 else. I sailed with him twenty-five years, the 
 last twenty as his chief mate. And I think it is 
 given to few men to have the perfect friendship 
 and confidence which existed between Captain 
 Hugh Murray and myself. 
 
 "In all our sailing we never again touched 
 the coast of Guatemala, although our crew were 
 eager to avenge what they considered the un- 
 provoked assault upon us and the cruel death 
 of the captain's beautiful betrothed. But when 
 the men actually came with a petition to be led 
 
THE SEAHAWK 427 
 
 back to repay the Spaniards, Captain Murray 
 only shook his head, saying quietly: 
 
 " ' I thank you very deeply, my lads, but it 
 cannot be. There has been enough of sorrow 
 and death. And remember, ** vengeance is 
 mine; I will repay, saith the Lord." 
 
 **We never heard a word from Guatemala 
 either officially or privately, regarding the tragic 
 ending of ' The Quest of the Seahawk.' I 
 suppose the Spaniards thought it the wiser plan 
 to let the matter rest, as practically they were 
 the aggressors, and had (as they supposed) 
 killed our captain, whom they knew to be an 
 Englishman of note. 
 
 "It was a very curious fact, at least it seemed 
 so to me, that Captain Murray remembered all 
 the sad circumstances regarding Margaritas 
 death, and his own fall, as well as her being laid 
 at his side, and her companion kneeling by her 
 and weeping quietly, while smoothing back the 
 hair from the dead girl's face. But everything 
 after that terrible catastrophe was a total blank 
 until he opened his eyes and saw me sitting by 
 his bedside. 
 
 " At quiet times in after years my friend 
 Captain Murray and I used to speculate as to 
 where his soul could have been during all those 
 
428 QUEST OF THE SEAHAWK 
 
 days of utter oblivion. But we never got nearer 
 a solution of the mystery than a South Sea 
 Islander, or a great European savant, would 
 have gotten, the reason of our failures no 
 doubt being the fact that 'the secret things 
 belong unto the Lord our God.' 
 
 '' I could tell you a great deal more about our 
 voyaging and adventures with the beautiful 
 little craft Seakawk, but I think I will forbear. 
 A great sage has told us among other wise 
 things that ' a tale should never be too long.'" 
 
ENVOI 
 
ENVOI 
 
 "THE EARTH WITH HER BARS" 
 
 The Heart's Question 
 Why are true words aye of sorrow? 
 
 Earth's burden from ever of old — 
 Men dreaming dreams of to-morrow, 
 
 But to-morrow the hps are cold ! 
 
 Earth's Bars, and darkness, and weeping, 
 
 Joys only a fleeting breath; 
 An Angel the secret keeping, 
 
 And the Angel's name is Death? 
 
 The Soul's Answer 
 Because we cannot pierce with mortal eyes 
 
 The mystery! Shadows are o'er the land! 
 But when the morn shall dawn in Paradise, 
 
 The Light will break, and we shall understand 
 
 Why our tears fell, and why our hearts were sore, 
 Groping in darkness, and in fear, and pain. 
 
 Wailing our lost, as lost for evermore ! 
 
 Moaning — " Are Love and Hope but shadows vain ! " 
 
 Yes, we shall know — as Christ now understands — 
 That what we deem'd as loss was Love and gain ! 
 
 His firm, safe pressure on our feeble hands 
 
 Guiding us when we thought 'twas needless pain. 
 
 431 
 
432 ENVOI 
 
 We are but straylings wand'ring in the sun, 
 The sun must set, or we would ne'er find rest : 
 
 But when the dawn shall break, and night is done. 
 Then we shall know our Father's plans are best ! 
 
 Shall know that loss and grief and pain are good— 
 These furnace fires must purify the gold — 
 
 Shall know the truth, now dimly understood, 
 
 That through earth's thorn-clad paths we find the Fold ! 
 
 Shall find the eyes we closed in hopeless gloom — 
 The hands we folded after Death's dark strife— 
 
 The feet we laid to rest within the tomb, 
 Waiting to meet us 'neath the tree of Life ! 
 
 Courage ! My brother of the broken heart. 
 
 Hearken ! Thou too shalt hear the Heavenly Spheres 
 Whose songs are lost amid earth's bars and mart — 
 
 But pause and listen !— God shall dry thy tears ! 
 
CHISWICK PRESS : CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. 
 TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON. 
 
Works by Francis Sinclair 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM PRESS OPINIONS 
 
 LONDON 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON AND COMPANY, LTD. 
 
 100, SOUTHWARK STREET, S.E. 
 
Extracts from P7'ess Opinions 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Mr. Sinclair's latest collection of short stories continues 
 the style and manner which brought him success with 
 "Under North Star and Southern Cross." His is the simple 
 narrative style, which eschews ornamentation and mere 
 verbal cleverness. He spins his yarns, gathered "from the 
 four winds" in what seems to have been a long life of roving, 
 in a plain homely way, leaving the story "to speak for 
 itself." The manner, as Mr. Sinclair uses it, is undoubtedly 
 effective. His stories, based as they seem to be upon actual 
 experience, have a simple human interest that would have 
 been spoiled by more elaborate treatment. He describes 
 life in the Southern Seas with sympathy and understanding, 
 shows what a noble fellow savage man often is, and rouses 
 pity with his description of "black-birding" — the slavery 
 trade — in the South Sea islands. He then sketches the 
 gradual degradation of a white man in a pathetic narrative 
 of a gallant soldier who, after squandering his patrimony, 
 sinks below the surface in the squalor of London slumland. 
 The mystical story of a magic ring introduces the reader 
 to a different atmosphere, but in a simple tale of lost love 
 in the Western Highlands Mr. Sinclair is back again to 
 the common things of life. Never long out of touch with 
 ordinary human nature, " From the Four Winds " is a whole- 
 some and stimulating book which cannot but appeal to 
 readers of fiction with quiet tastes. — The Scotsman. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Mr. Sinclair has made for himself a peculiar niche in the 
 world of literature. He has been a great traveller for many 
 years in unknown lands, and he has told the story of those 
 wanderings, not in the ordinary way of travel books, but 
 by means of a coterie of old friends who meet together once 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 3 
 
 a year, each one undertaking to tell some tale of adventure 
 which has actually befallen him. It may fairly be assumed 
 that this coterie is quite fictitious, and the stories all emanate 
 from the "picture gallery of the author's own memory," 
 assisted, doubtless, by a very vivid imagination. Whether 
 these stories are based on facts or fiction does not very much 
 matter, they are exceedingly readable, and undoubtedly 
 the picturesque scenes in which they occur and the descrip- 
 tion of voyages among the little known islands of the Pacific 
 could only be derived from personal experience. It may be 
 said that the author is not only a born story-teller, he is no 
 mean poet, and the author's personal contributions to this 
 work are a series of poems as a preface to each story. The 
 prelude to " Blackbirding " is a poem of twelve stanzas, 
 from which we quote two verses : — 
 
 But the hold of a craft in the tropics isn't half as 
 
 free and nice 
 As the green grass under the palm trees, and the 
 
 cool breeze touched with spice ; 
 And our "passengers" felt the difference, and 
 
 drooped like wilted flowers. 
 And their spirits went back at a ruinous rate to 
 
 their own vine-covered bowers. 
 
 They made no fuss about dying, just slipped away 
 
 to their rest, 
 As peaceful and quiet as children asleep on a 
 
 mother's breast ; 
 They never seemed to be troubled with visions 
 
 of hell and woe. 
 And back-loads of sin et cetera^ which make us 
 
 so loth to go ! 
 
 The volume is handsomely got up, and should find many 
 readers. — Publishers' Circular. 
 
4 Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Readers of Mr. Francis Sinclair's earlier volumes will 
 accord a hearty welcome to this further series of stories, in 
 which are noticeable the excellent quahties which marked 
 their predecessors. We describe them as " stories," but 
 some of them have a significance not readily associated 
 with the term. In " How John Trueman Learned His 
 Lesson," for example, we have something more than the 
 entertaining yarn of a parson who has become a South Sea 
 Islander, we have a wonderful glimpse of the heroic Father 
 Damien in his slow martyrdom as comforter of lepers. In- 
 deed, there is much in such a volume as this that lifts it 
 out of the rank of fiction as commonly understood by the 
 gentlemen of England who write or read at home at ease. 
 Mr. Sinclair seems to have seen life at close grips in many 
 parts of the world, and he is gifted with very considerable 
 literary ability in putting before us that which he has seen 
 or heard. With things of his own to say, and a style of his 
 own in which to say them, he deserves to be classed with 
 the small company of writers, of whom Mr. Joseph Conrad 
 is perhaps the chief, who have travelled much and far, 
 mixed with all sorts and conditions of men, and brought 
 home — literature. Five stories — to keep to the conventional 
 term — are here presented, and they are supposed to have 
 been told by three men on the deck of the pearl-fishery 
 boat Lapwing, in the little harbour of Heao, in the Mar- 
 quesas Islands. The three narrators are Kinross, the skip- 
 per, the Rev. John Trueman, itinerant missionary in the 
 Pacific, and Samuel Kent, trader and Government agent, 
 "one of the lost-gentleman caste." The all-important fourth 
 is the author who would have us believe that his chief 
 contribution to the whole consists of the appropriate verse 
 prefaces to the stories. It is the parson who tells how he 
 learned his lesson from a visit to Father Damien. After a 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 5 
 
 hard time in an East-end parish he had sought to read 
 the riddle of life from another standpoint altogether by 
 becoming an " utterly poor and vagrant tramp," and then 
 from another standpoint by missionary work in the Pacific. 
 As missionary he meets Bishop Patteson and Father 
 Damien, and " learns his lesson." The second story, told 
 by the skipper, deals with the terrible crime — parent of 
 many other crimes — of " Black-birding in the Pacific," 
 telling of the experiences of those on board a small 
 schooner, who cruised about seeing what could be done to 
 fight the evil. The cruise of the Lapwing was presumably 
 in the early seventies, so that Mr. Sinclair has slipped in- 
 to an anachronism, making Lieutenant Westgarth say, 
 " After this cruise, I think I will take saccharine." Sam 
 Kent's story describes how the son of a Hebrew solicitor 
 in London came to be a wanderer and a trader in the 
 Pacific. He, too, reads an Oriental story of " The Legend 
 of the Magic Rings," and the skipper gives a reminiscence 
 of his childhood in " Bridget Macleod, of Whinnie Braes." 
 It will be seen that Mr. Sinclair's narrators range far in 
 the scenes they present — incidentally, there are some re- 
 markable impressions of London, and sketches of " lost " 
 Londoners — but through all there is a unity of spirit im- 
 parting to the whole book an indescribable quality. Mr. 
 Sinclair has given us a volume which it is a pleasure to 
 read, with descriptions of men and their doings that once 
 read are little likely to be forgotten. Such a work is far 
 removed from the current ruck of fiction with which it is 
 likely to be confused only by those who do not look beyond 
 the title page. — The Daily Telegraph. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Mr. Sinclair has been led to publish " From the Four 
 Winds " by the kindly reception given to his last work, 
 
6 Exh^acts from Press Opinions 
 
 " Under North Star and Southern Cross." Thus en- 
 couraged he has explored the picture gallery of his 
 memory, and here sets down, at once naturally and 
 vividly, the recollections of vanished scenes and com- 
 rades of old days under Pacific skies. His characters 
 are few: an itinerant Cornish missionary; Sam Kent, 
 trader and Government agent ; and Kinross, the skipper 
 of the schooner Lapwing. Upon the deck of the schooner 
 in the little harbour of Heao, Mr. Sinclair gets his small 
 company together, and starts the story-telling, each of the 
 stories being more or less a record of personal experience 
 or reminiscence. Some of the stories are thrilling ; scarcely 
 any is without a healthy lesson, though not too obtrusively 
 conveyed. One gets to like and to seem to know all the 
 characters ; we seem, indeed, to be listening to the stories 
 from their lips, and when each ends we are anticipative 
 and eager for the next. Nor is Mr. Sinclair a skilled 
 story-teller only; in the preludes to his tales he shows a 
 power in expressive versification which is far above the 
 ordinary, and commands admiration. We hope he may 
 successfully search his memory for materials for another 
 volume, which will be welcome if it be of so good a 
 quality as "From the Four Wmd^s:'— The Bristol Daily 
 Merairy. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Mr. Francis Sinclair has already made a name for him- 
 self as a story-teller by two books, " Where the Sun Sets " 
 and "Under North Star and Southern Cross." He has 
 once more, as he expresses it, explored the picture gal- 
 lery of his memory, and given us the present volume of 
 five stories, each of them having the characteristics of his 
 previous work— entrancing interest and charming verisi- 
 militude. Mr. Sinclair's name proclaims him to be a 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 Scotsman, but his writings stamp him a citizen of the 
 world, and his yarns are spun on the deck of a little 
 trading schooner in the pleasant waters of Heao, in the 
 Marquesas Islands. He has seen and observed the brown 
 men of the Pacific in all sorts of conditions, and he con- 
 trasts them — not always unfavourably — with the so-called 
 civilised men of Europe and the West. He has lived in 
 London and studied the lives of the outcasts of society 
 and the down-trodden portion of humanity. He has 
 wandered on the moors of Kintyre, herded on the shores 
 of Clyde, and looked through the mists of Ailsa Craig 
 and the distant coast-line of Ayrshire. All these and 
 many more impressions are worked up in his admirable 
 pictures of life at home and abroad, giving as a result a 
 collection of tales full of incident, adventure, and mystery, 
 couched in a plain unvarnished style, which attracts as 
 much by its simplicity as by its outspoken truthfulness.— 
 The Aberdeen Daily Journal. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Mr. Sinclair is already favourably known for various 
 collections of tales, and here he gives us a further batch of 
 the same type. These sketches are much above the 
 average of this kind, and it would appear that the people 
 portrayed really existed, and that the events took place 
 almost exactly in the old-fashioned, conservative manner 
 in which they are set forth. The stories are full of mystery 
 and romance, and they gain in effect from the unforced 
 manner of narration. Mr. Sinclair has explored the 
 picture gallery of his memory and recalled many a 
 vanished scene and good comrade of his restless pilgrim- 
 age, and he has imparted an additional charm to his 
 latest work by the interpolation of several poetical 
 snatches, which show him to be a poet of more than 
 
8 Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 minor magnitude. One of the daintiest, simplest, and 
 most appealing of these poetical interludes is the one in 
 " How John Trueman Learned his Lesson," and is written 
 under the text " For in much wisdom is much grief; and 
 he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." The 
 stanza begins — 
 
 I ask no more — I trust no more my brain, 
 
 For wisdom deems 
 The goals men seek are all in vain ; 
 
 Dreams — idle dreams. 
 
 A little while and I shall know 
 
 What every sage, 
 With weary toil hath failed to show 
 
 Age after age. 
 
 It is the expression of the author's creed, and contains the 
 philosophy of a strong man in the language of a child. — 
 The Yorkshire Observer. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Mr. Francis Sinclair's books are well known and appre- 
 ciated. They combine in a pleasant form the experiences 
 and observation of one who has a close knowledge with 
 all parts of the world. There is fact and fancy in the 
 writings of this author. A prose poet, in this volume, like 
 Silas Wegg, he sometimes drops into verse now and 
 again. Mr. Sinclair adopts the form of the story-telling 
 company of friends here, and though all are different, it 
 is to be said that every one of the tales is marked by 
 power and a certain charm that is characteristic of the 
 work of this gifted author. The wild life of the South 
 Seas is dealt with pretty fully in the tales of this volume, 
 and Mr. Sinclair adds a Scottish story to close a book, 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 9 
 
 that is of wide human appeal. It can be taken up with 
 the assurance of providing agreeable reading, being a 
 fitting successor to the same writer's " Under North Star 
 and Southern Cross." — Nezvcastle Daily Joii7'7iaL 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 " From the Four Winds " is the title of a fresh volume 
 of South Sea yarns by Mr. Francis Sinclair. Although 
 complete in themselves they are a continuation of his pre- 
 vious volume " Under North Star and Southern Cross," for 
 the same group reappears to play the part of narrators, and 
 we can quite believe the author's assurance that they are 
 gathered from his memory, for they are told in that artless 
 way which belongs to transcripts from actual experience. 
 Each of the five episodes is prefaced by a poetical intro- 
 duction written by the author, who has a very happy gift 
 of verse-making. The soft, easy-going atmosphere of the 
 Southern Seas is pictured to the life, and the writer dis- 
 plays the keenest sympathy with the natives, and the 
 evils which intercourse with white men brings upon them. 
 One story illustrates very strikingly their almost am- 
 phibious habits, and shows how on one occasion when 
 shipwrecked they declined to abandon their white com- 
 panion in a sea infested with sharks, though as a result 
 only nine out of the original twenty succeeded in swim- 
 ming ashore. " Blackbirding " is a very powerful indict- 
 ment of the old system of recruiting labour by force, 
 which in the author's opinion cost the life of the martyred 
 Bishop Patteson. In another story we have a vivid 
 picture of the sufferings of the followers of the Emperor 
 Maximihan, after his arrest and execution in Mexico, 
 and appended to this is a very striking Eastern romance 
 of " Two Magic Rings." — Nottmgham Gtiardian, 
 
lo Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Former books from the same pen have met with so 
 much approval that to express an opinion of the merits 
 of " From the Four Winds " it is only necessary to say 
 that it should prove no less popular than its predecessors. 
 Mr. Sinclair knew the enchanted islands of the South 
 Pacific in the days before commonplace had banished 
 romance, and these stories and poems — the author has a 
 pretty facility in versification — are for the most part 
 directly concerned with places and people and with in- 
 cidents real and imaginary that serve to show life as it 
 was lived then. In one of the stories that make up the 
 volume Mr. Sinclair has laid the scene in Scotland, and 
 it is by no means the least notable item in the collection. 
 — Newcastle Chronicle. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 One of the best volumes of short stories published for 
 a considerable time is "From the Four Winds," by 
 Francis Sinclair, author of "Ballads and Poems from 
 the Pacific" and "Under North Star and Southern 
 Cross." He narrates his events with a directness which 
 interests all readers. In " Black-Birding in the Pacific" 
 he deals to some extent with the slave trade, while in 
 " Bridget Macleod of Whinnie Braes " he gives his 
 readers a capital story of the Scottish Highlands. Others 
 are " How John Trueman Learned his Lesson," " Sam 
 Kent's Story," and "The Legend of the Magic Rings."— 
 The Belfast News-Letter. 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 1 1 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 As in " Under North Star and Southern Cross," Mr. Sin- 
 clair here recalls memories of scenes and comrades seen 
 and met in foreign climes, and the five stories are, in our 
 opinion, fully equal to what he gave us in the previous 
 book. We like best " Sam Kent's Story," which presents 
 a powerful study of character in Leopold Durand, an 
 extraordinary mixture of the gallant, adventurous soldier 
 and the hopeless London loafer, and " Bridget Macleod 
 of Whinnie Braes,' the story of a man's perversity and 
 a woman's resolution, but "The Legend of the Magic 
 Rings " (from the Hebrew MS. of Jacob El Nathan) is 
 also remarkably good reading. The book should certainly 
 enhance the reputation of the author. — The Bookseller. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 This volume is a collection of five very entertaining 
 stories, supposed to be told on the quarterdeck of the 
 schooner " Lapwing " in the Port of Heao in the Mar- 
 quesas Islands, whilst waiting to lay in a miscellaneous 
 cargo of South Sea products. In consequence all the 
 stories converge on, if they do not actually touch, the 
 Pacific. In the first story, " How John Trueman learned 
 his lesson," we are given a vivid picture of tramp life in 
 rural England and in the slums of London, as experienced 
 by Parson John Trueman, before he started on a mission- 
 ary career in the South Sea Islands. Incidentally, a fine 
 tribute is paid to Father Damien, the Apostle of the 
 Lepers, whom John Trueman is supposed to have visited 
 at Molokai. " Black-Birding in the Pacific," the skipper's 
 story, as its name implies, deals with the methods of 
 kidnapping the South Sea Islanders for the purposes of 
 
1 2 Extracts fi^om Press Opinions 
 
 the slave trade, or enforced labour as it is called. " Sam 
 Kent's Story " is the tale of a broken life and two talis- 
 manic rings, beginning in London, then recounting some 
 escapades in Mexico after the fall of the ill-fated Maxi- 
 milian, and finishing up with an adventurous voyage on 
 the Pacific, whilst "The Legend of the Magic Rings" 
 takes us back to Israel and Egypt in the days of King 
 Solomon. The concluding story, "Bridget Macleod of 
 Whinnie Braes," is a reminiscence of the skipper's child- 
 hood, in which the scene is laid in the neighbourhood of 
 Glasgow. x\ll the stories are skilfully told, and are full of 
 incident and action, whilst in the two relating to the rings 
 the elements of mystery are not lacking. Some pleasing 
 verses act as preludes to the various tales. — Cork Ex- 
 a7ni7ier. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 We gladly welcome another batch of yarns from 
 Mr. Sinclair, yarns recalling many a vanished scene and 
 good comrade of the old days. It is but a little company, 
 four in all, who squat on the quarter-deck of the " Lap- 
 wing " on those enchanting nights on the still waters of 
 Heao to entertain each other with reminiscences of the 
 past. The tales are so cleverly told that the reader is in 
 doubt as to whether he is reading fact or fiction. There 
 is such a glamour of reality over the whole volume that 
 we are bound to feel that the men and women introduced 
 are not altogether fleeting shadows of the imagination. 
 The first story, "How John Trueman Learned His 
 Lesson," sets in lurid and pathetic hght the burden of the 
 submerged tenth, the homeless in London and the hard 
 case of the confirmed tramp. The last of the fine tales — 
 " Bridget Macleod of Whinnie Braes " — will be particu- 
 larly welcome to Scottish readers. It is a pretty and 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 13 
 
 touching picture of life in a west country shieling. In 
 "Sam Kent's Story" (the longest of the five), and "Black 
 Birding in the Pacific," Mr. Sinclair takes us once more 
 to the Southern Pacific, with the scenery and customs of 
 which he is most familiar, and the beauty of which he 
 describes with enchanting charm. It is a real pleasure 
 to read this well written volume with such a marked 
 vein of poetry running through it. We might address 
 Mr. Sinclair as the skipper did Friend Trueman when he 
 had finished his story and say he has put us all under a 
 deep debt of gratitude. The cheers which Sam Kent and 
 his friends felt disposed to bestow upon the Parson we 
 would warmly accord to Mr. Sinclair for the interesting 
 and touching bits of life history he has given us. The 
 stories are full of incident and action, with fine touches 
 of humour and pathos. — Perthshire Courier. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Readers who are acquainted with Mr. Francis Sinclair's 
 work will need no commendation of ours to induce them 
 to read " From the Four Winds." Those who do not yet 
 know this author's admirable stories have a great pleasure 
 before them. There is a straightforwardness and simpli- 
 city, there is an old-fashioned piety in these yarns which 
 are as rare nowadays as they are delightful. Mr. Sinclair 
 has been a wanderer in many lands. He is familiar with 
 English roads, with London slums, with the marvel- 
 lous islands of the South Pacific, with Mexico, with the 
 Sahara Desert ; above all, with the sea, and the men who 
 go down to it in ships. His stories give us the impression 
 of being founded on actual personal experience, touched 
 up, no doubt, their colours heightened, but substantially 
 true. There are five stories in the book, all of them so 
 good that it is hard to make a choice among them. 
 
14 Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 Individual taste will count in deciding which is the best, 
 and we give our vote for *' Blackbirding in the Pacific " 
 for the sake of the wonderful account of the schooner^s 
 sailing, the best and most vivid narrative of the kind we 
 have read since we followed the voyage of Stevenson's 
 schooner in "The Wreckers." Sam Kent's story has 
 another wonderful voyage in it — a crossing of the Pacific 
 by a crew of four who felt their way from Mexico to 
 Tahiti with the help of a compass and a log line. But the 
 first story in the book, " How John Trueman Learned His 
 Lesson " is very good too, and among the tributes to the 
 noble life of Father Damien there is none more con- 
 vincing than that which this story contains. Mr. Sinclair 
 is well known, and deserves to be much better known. 
 We heartily commend his new book. — The Irish Times. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Another volume of stories of adventure has been com- 
 piled by Mr. Francis Sinclair on similar lines to his 
 previous work, " Under North Star and Southern Cross." 
 " From the Four Winds " purports to be a further draft 
 upon the memory of the writer of personal experiences in 
 many parts of the world, and of stories told him by friends. 
 There are five tales, the two best of which tell of the 
 search for two magic rings, and how their mysterious 
 occult power was put into use. The others are interesting, 
 and the book is one with which a very pleasant leisure hour 
 may be spent. Much of the charm of the stories is due 
 to the author's power of description and his knowledge 
 and acquaintance with the different places mentioned. — 
 Dundee Advertiser. 
 
Extracts f7'oin Press Opinions 15 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Mr. Francis Sinclair's new volume is the work of a man 
 who has the " wanderlust " very strongly developed in his 
 constitution. He is a wanderer on the face of the earth — 
 and on the face of the waters that cover the earth ; and 
 his friends must be men who have been wanderers like 
 himself The stories in this book, about which there is 
 obviously little of the fictitious element, range from the 
 islands of the Pacific to the streets of London, and the 
 grim tragedy of the men who have "gone under"; from 
 Mexico in Maximilian's time to tramp-hfe " on the road " 
 in England. And in every instance one finds the same 
 keen eye for romantic adventure, the same atmosphere 
 of absolute reality, and a curious, restrained power of 
 narrative which impresses the reader strangely. Such a 
 book challenges comparison with the work of writers like 
 Mr. W. H. Hudson or Mr. Cunninghame Grahame. There 
 is the same impatient distaste for the methodical life of 
 "civihzed" nations; and, as in the case of both these 
 authors, a keen sympathy with the outcast, the wayfaring 
 man, and the man who has failed. 
 
 The following passage from "Sam Kent's Story" ex- 
 presses this spirit completely : 
 
 "... the Pacific, the sea of witchery and enchanted 
 islands, where all who listen to the sirens' songs, and 
 drink of the silent river of Lethe, fall into the sleep of 
 dreams — the sleep from which men never awaken in this 
 world. That is, they never awaken to the old energetic 
 life of Europe. If ever they do come into what is called 
 'civilized life,' they are like sleep-walkers. . . . Their 
 real selves are far away, where the warm tropic seas 
 are laving the coral reefs, and the soft trade winds are 
 whispering their witching songs in the tinkling fronds of 
 the palm groves." 
 
1 6 Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 But Mr. Sinclair can be no mere dreamer. Men of 
 action live and move, fight and fail, in these pages. One 
 might go far before finding a more tellingly simple piece 
 of prose than the missionary, John Trueman's, description 
 of his visit to Father Damien, hero and saint, at the; Leper 
 Settlement of Kalawao ; or the horrible story of " Black- 
 Birding in the Pacific," and its evil consequences for 
 white men and brown. The author is a poet, too, and the 
 verse-preludes which preface each story are as vivid, as 
 vigorously written, and as fascinating as the rest of this 
 remarkable book. — Sheffield Daily Telegraph. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 We have had the pleasure of noticing two of Mr. 
 Sinclair's former books, and we hasten to assure the 
 many admirers of "Where the Sun Sets," which is the 
 last of his we were privileged to handle, that they will 
 find all the qualities which have endeared him to them 
 in his latest volume. He has travelled much and observed 
 keenly; best of all, he is able to make us see what he has 
 seen for himself. There is a direct simplicity in his style 
 which carries home his meaning to the heart of his reader. 
 Many readers will find a peculiar pleasure in the verses 
 with which each story is preluded. Picturesque as the 
 stories are, we are not sure that the verses are not better 
 than the prose. There are five stories altogether, and we 
 decline to choose between them. They are all marked by 
 the same wide experience, by the same knowledge of 
 human nature, yet in each is some special distinctive 
 charm. But may we quote a few stanzas from a little 
 poem embedded in " How John Trueman Learned his 
 Lesson"? 
 
Extracts froin Press Opinions ly 
 
 I cannot tell why hearts must break 
 
 And eyes must weep ; 
 I cannot tell why Death should take 
 
 What I would keep. 
 
 I am but as a little child 
 
 Out in the night, 
 I only hear the storm-wrack wild, 
 
 I see no light. 
 
 No light, but in the dark I feel 
 
 A Blessed Hand 
 With wounds ! but, oh ! a Hand to heal 
 
 And understand 
 
 My doubt, my terror, and my pain, 
 
 And hold me safe ; 
 And make a happy child again 
 
 Of wandering waif. 
 
 The last line lacks a little, but if this is not good work, 
 we are no judge. — The Advertiser. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 The title of Mr. Francis Sinclair's latest contribution to 
 literature in itself gives an indication of the nature of 
 the volume. It is a collection of stories of adventure and 
 mystery gathered from "a' the airts." Mr. Sinclair has 
 spent much of his life abroad, and travelled in many lands 
 and sailed on many seas. He also belongs to a coterie of 
 wanderers who make it a point, if at all possible, to gather 
 together once a year in London and relate stories of their 
 adventures. All the members of this little circle are far- 
 
1 8 Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 travelled — according to the rules, each must have spent at 
 least a fifth of his life abroad — and from them and their 
 reminiscences the author has accumulated much material 
 for his writings. In his own travels Mr. Sinclair has gained 
 much out-of-the-way knowledge, and his stories show an 
 acquaintance with men, countries, and customs which can 
 only be the result of practical experience. No matter where 
 the scene of his tale may be laid, he knows it thoroughly. 
 He is equally at home in the crowded cities of Great 
 Britain, in the deserts of the East, or in the midst of the 
 tropical splendour of the magic islands of the Southern 
 Pacific. Wherever he has gone his observant eye and re- 
 ceptive mind have found something worth recording, and 
 he introduces into his tales many details that are both 
 interesting and instructive, and that add to the keenness 
 of the relish which the reader experiences, as well as pro- 
 claiming him a master of his art. The local colour is, in- 
 deed, remarkable. — Peoples Journal. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Few, indeed, are the story-tellers of to-day who work 
 in the vein of Mr. Sinclair. This was easily seen in 
 " Under the North Star and Southern Cross" ; here it is 
 proved beyond all doubt. While others prefer to hunt up 
 new scents in human interest, stirring up foul smells here 
 and there, or to paint their sky of fiction a flaming red 
 with passions and other sorts, he is content to pursue a 
 quiet course, that appeals strongly if only on account of 
 its true humanness. His method is simple ; his style is 
 direct, without being snappy ; his atmosphere is always 
 true to its locale ; and if his women are shadowy, his men 
 are certainly not, although he is no maker of " characters." 
 
 In the present volume he gives us five stories, some 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 19 
 
 verse, and a few poems such as one rarely finds in the 
 work of the so-called "minor" poet. Would that we had 
 space wherein to quote the beautiful thing, "I ask no 
 more," which he has put into "How John Trueman 
 Learned his Lesson." This tale, which has a lesson that 
 any man may learn, to his benefit, concerns an itinerant 
 missionary in the Marquesas Islands, who had worked 
 with Father Damien, the leper martyr. It is pathetic, 
 with a touch of noble philosophy running through its 
 texture. Another story is of " blackbirding" in the Pacific ; 
 not the slave-carrying of older times, but something pretty 
 near it. 
 
 What we like best, however, is "Sam Kent's Story" 
 and its sequel, " The Legend of the Magic Rings." Here, 
 without any " sensation," there is more colour, more move- 
 ment, more variety than there are in the other stories. 
 They are supposed to be told by different men ; and the 
 one fault that strikes us is that they speak too much alike, 
 and that at times the language is hardly the medium of 
 direct verbal narrative.— Z:^^ Daily Chronicle. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Even though, according to the statistics of the Free 
 Libraries, the demand for any books, except those which 
 come under the head of pure fiction, is very limited, there 
 are still a few women, in the nursing profession as else- 
 where, who delight in books of travel. These will like to 
 read the latest volume from the pen of Francis Sinclair. 
 The author of "From the Four Winds" is a travelled 
 Scotsman who from time to time has issued collections of 
 stories, weird, romantic, or pathetic, as the case may be. 
 His latest book contains tales of adventure which read as 
 if the incidents are taken from first-hand experience on 
 
20 Extracts front Press Opinions 
 
 the part of the narrators — chums, who tell their own tales 
 in turn. Interspersed are verses of no mean merit. The 
 prelude to the tales has so true a ring, both in rhythm and 
 sentiment, that we must quote it : 
 
 Only the flickering firelight in my room, 
 
 Only bells tolling for the dying year. 
 Only the silence and the midnight gloom, 
 
 And then my ghosts appear ! 
 
 And on my hands kind loving hands are laid, 
 And o'er my face the tears of parting fall, 
 
 And through my room's uncertain light and shade, 
 I hear old voices call ! 
 
 " From the Four Winds " is essentially a book for readers 
 who prefer to read short stories and those of a virile 
 type. — The Nursing Mirror. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 Again we take pleasure in announcing a new book from 
 the pen of Francis Sinclair, well and favourably known 
 as a writer of clever, clean literature. The book is en- 
 titled " From the Four Winds," and depicts strange 
 phases of life in little-known parts of the world. The 
 stories are told on board the " Lapwing," the schooner 
 belonging to our old friend Capt. Kinross. Moored in the 
 little harbour of Heao, one of the Marquesas Isles, on a 
 beautiful moonlight night fate elects that the first story 
 should be told by the Rev. John Trueman, a Cornishman 
 and a Missionary. " How John Trueman learned his 
 lesson" is a narrative beautiful and inspiring, but in- 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 21 
 
 describably sad. Pitiful efforts after prayer, wild search- 
 ing for light, for mental resolve, and strength till " out in 
 the night on the wide, wild sea " he found the wounded 
 hand and would not let it go till it blessed him. 
 
 '' Black-birding in the Pacific" the skipper himself 
 graphically relates. That iniquitous trading by enticing 
 poor, foolish Kanakas on board " slavers "—for they were 
 nothing else— on the one hand, and on the other devoted 
 Christian men and women carrying the Gospel of Mercy 
 to these same islanders, who, not having the proper power 
 of discrimination between types of white men too often 
 made Christian whites the scape-goats of the greedy 
 power of capital. "Sam Rentes Story" and " The Magic 
 Rings " are complement of each other. Weirdly mystic, 
 with a great depth of passion and imagination there is a 
 blending of the old and new, the soul aids the body and 
 at moments raises it. In the long terrible march from the 
 Nile to the " Oasis of Pride and Vain Delight " and from 
 thence to the " Oasis of Truth " splendid descriptive work 
 is done. 
 
 The last story is that of " Bridget Macleod of Whinnie 
 Braes " and is a personal reminiscence of Capt. Kinross. 
 It IS the simple, but impressive story of a Scotch lassie 
 whose heart broke while waiting for a braw laddie to 
 make his fortune abroad. "Thirty years on this lonely 
 hill-side ! watching my sweet bonnie youth slipping from 
 me year by year; my raven hair whitening, my smooth 
 cheek wrinkling, and the step that never tired wearying 
 for ^est.J " The accursed stuff that robbed me of life and 
 love." " Take care it dinna rob you of your soul at last." 
 Kinross closes with : " I sat and grat some heavy tears 
 on his grass-grown grave in the old village kirkyard on 
 the Mull o' Kintyre, where Donald and Bridget are now 
 lymg within cry of each other at last, although they 
 missed their road so hopelessly through all the summer 
 of their lives." 
 
2 2 Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 Mr. Sinclair's characters are taken from life, and the 
 main incidents in his tales are true. The charm lies in 
 his original treatment of the common-place, in his sym- 
 pathy with struggling humanity, and in his power to 
 point a moral. While entertaining to the mind, his 
 stories are helpful to the soul. 
 
 The book is published by Sampson Low, Marston and 
 Co., Ltd., London, England. — The British Calif ornian. 
 
 FROM THE FOUR WINDS. 
 
 They [the stories] go deeply into life, principally into 
 life on the Pacific Islands, and give vivid and arresting 
 pictures of people and places that are little known. Their 
 sincerity is very marked, and Mr. Sinclair proves himself 
 one of the very few writers who are able to deal unaffectedly 
 in fiction with such a problem as that of the coloured races. 
 His book should be read both for its thoughtfulness and 
 its real literary merit. — Daily Mail. 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 23 
 
 BALLADS AND POEMS FROM THE PACIFIC. 
 
 Amidst the many books of verse— generally only efforts 
 in rhyme, and often very bad efforts— it is pleasant to meet 
 with a volume that has the true poetic ring and poetic 
 feeling. " Ballads and Poems from the Pacific," by Philip 
 Garth,^ have much of the rhythmical swell, of the vigour 
 combined with sweetness, that are among the charms of 
 lyric poetry. — Illustrated Londo7i News. 
 
 Philip Garth's " Ballads and Poems from the Pacific " 
 are flavoured with much of the freshness of the salt-sea 
 foam, and the keen stimulating air of Western lands. As 
 a writer of ballads Mr. Garth is at his best. Many of 
 these are, indeed, very spirited and \n^\v\dM2\.— Saturday 
 Review, 
 
 I have rarely come across so delightfully fresh yet re- 
 poseful a volume of exquisite verse as " Ballads and Poems 
 from the Pacific." — Pe?iny Illustrated Paper. 
 
 Mr. Garth is a poet. There are some right good things 
 among these ballads and poems— beautiful language, fine 
 ideas, stirring songs of the sea, and very tender poems in 
 another vein. — Topical Times. 
 
 "Ballads and Poems from the Pacific," by Philip Garth. 
 Mr. Garth adds one more to the ballad-writers whose muse 
 is inspired by the sea, and, in particular, by the Pacific, 
 where, to quote his own words — 
 
 The Cross of stars is gleaming over wondrous isles of palm, 
 Where rose-hued reefs of coral flash through seas of per- 
 fect calm. 
 
 ' The 7iom de plume under which Mr. Sinclair wrote at that 
 time. 
 
24 Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 His "Sketch in the Pacific," "With Franky Drake," and 
 " The Dying Bushranger," are such as Charles Kingsley 
 would not have been ashamed to own, and that he is a 
 good master of pathos is evident from the effective lines : 
 " The House we Build at Last," " Vanity of Vanities," and 
 others. — Bookseller. 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 25 
 
 WHERE THE SUN SETS. 
 
 Be the origin of these tales what it may— whether they 
 possess substantial basis of fact, as is more than hinted 
 in a preface, or are the outcome of the fertile imagination 
 of a man who has travelled much in the Pacific— they are 
 of a character that will appeal strongly to many readers. 
 It may be that several of them are too sad and pathetic 
 for some people. But in any case, they are distinguished 
 by feelings of the kindliest nature and a warm-hearted 
 sympathy that renders even the weirdest of the stories not 
 unpleasing. Adventures on sea and land stand out promi- 
 nently in some of the tales. All will be read and some of 
 them will be remembered. — Scotsman. 
 
 Some of the tales are exciting, some pathetic, some 
 weird and terrifying, some plaintive and passionate. All 
 are interesting and well-written, and will be read, alike by 
 travellers and stay-at-homes, with the greatest avidity.— 
 Glasgow Hei-ald. 
 
 The tales given consist of accounts of episodes and ad- 
 ventures in America, the South Seas, and other parts of 
 the world, and are all written fluently, graphically, and 
 attractively.— ^^^^j^//^r. 
 
 "Where the Sun Sets" is a congeries of good things. 
 There is a pleasant variety of themes presented in these 
 four hundred and forty-nine pages of " Memories from 
 other Years and Lands"— Mr. Sinclair's sub-title to his 
 latest book. It is a wide, wandering and thoughtful muse 
 that presided over the selections of a traveller who knows 
 the isles of the western seas "from Tahiti to Fiji and from 
 Tonga to Hawaii." Great merit, a very true balance between 
 dark and bright in spiritual moods, and a sure and quiet 
 mastery of expression are present in the nine stories com- 
 prising this book.— 77^^ British Calif ornian. 
 
26 Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 The author of this remarkable book says in his preface 
 that he belongs to a " Coterie of wanderers," who make it 
 a point to foregather in London during the month of May 
 —that is, as many of them as happen to be in England at 
 that festive season. One of the rules of the Coterie is that 
 a candidate, before he can join it, must have spent at least 
 a fifth of his life abroad. At their reunions they are expected 
 to recount any striking adventures in which they have 
 taken part, the only condition being that a contribution be 
 edifying as well as entertaining, and that in its main points 
 it must be true. The present volume is the result of notes 
 taken at the meetings by the author. 
 
 The stories are all interesting, and they have this 
 element of novelty and freshness that they for the most 
 part describe life in the islands of the Southern Pacific. — 
 Publishers' Circular. 
 
Extracts from Press Opinions 27 
 
 UNDER NORTH STAR AND SOUTHERN CROSS. 
 
 All these stories are skilfully told; they are full of incident 
 and action, and the element of mystery is not lacking. 
 They will be enjoyed, and more will be looked for from the 
 same pen. — Scotsman. 
 
 The book is a fine one, both in the idea and the render- 
 ing of it, written with a manly touch and an air of truth 
 and experience which we cannot but regard with admira- 
 tion and respect. — The Yorkshire Herald. 
 
 Entertaining, profitable, recreative, his stories of his 
 recreations certainly are. — Sheffield Daily Telegraph. 
 
 The author possesses the essential faculty of a story- 
 teller, that of bringing before his readers actual living 
 pictures of the scenes and people he describes. — Publisher^ 
 Circular. 
 
 The author of a remarkable book, "Where the Sun Sets," 
 being " memories from other years and lands," must have 
 been born with " the wandering foot." He has published 
 another volume of strange incidents and adventures in 
 many countries and varied climes, under the title of 
 "Under North Star and Southern Cross." It is a delightful 
 book, uncommon in its choice of background, and with the 
 freshness of unfamiliar scenes and types. — Staffordshire 
 Sentinel. 
 
 Not one of the seven stories lacks in that wonderful 
 human interest with which Mr. Sinclair had vested those 
 earlier stories of his in " Where the Sun Sets." They all 
 have a peculiar pathos of their own, and thrill the reader 
 with their evident truth. — Erith Tiines. 
 
 In his latest, Mr. Sinclair places most of the scenes in 
 the Southern Pacific and reveals the charm and glamour 
 
28 Extracts from Press Opinions 
 
 of that marvellous region. The story of " The Haunted 
 Ship" is enough to give one "brain storm" to read it, and, 
 strange to say, when the narrative is at its maddest, the 
 sense of reality is still perfect. — Winnipeg Telegrafn. 
 
 *' Under North Star and Southern Cross " is a book at 
 once true and fascinating, yet dressed in the mantle of in- 
 telligent construction. We have perused its seven stories. 
 Each story stands out fair and distinct, perfect as a picture 
 of nature when the sunlight falls upon its various colours 
 and blends them into loveliness. Some are pastoral, some 
 are gloomily tragic. Whether the light falls on the frozen 
 mysteries of the long polar day where the " Haunted Ship " 
 lies silent, grim and ghost-like in an eternal embrace of 
 immaculate purity; on the mystical beauty of tropic isles 
 where dreams of Celestial glory are almost realized ; on 
 the shores and waters of beautiful Gairloch ; or on the 
 " Lost Oasis of El Darag," each is a mosaic finished and 
 complete. — The British Califor7iian. 
 
 LONDON : SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & CO., LTD. 
 
 ICO, SOUTHWARK STREET, S.E. 
 
CHISWICK PRESS : CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. 
 TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON. 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, 
 or on the date to ■which renewed. Renewals only: 
 
 Tel. No. 642-3405 
 Renewals may be made 4 days prior to date due. 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 Jill Ifi 1971 8^ 
 
 REC'D LD AUG 1 8 / 1 "SPM^^ 
 
 T,T>9i A-'=;nm 9 '71 General Library 
 
 (P2?0m0)4?6^'A-32 ^niversx^ o^California 
 
ivJ3i8291 
 
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