Boys Own Paper 26th April 1913

8/9/2019 Boys Own Paper 26th April 1913

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NO. 30 , VOLUME XXXV.]

THE Indian b oy, the delight and plaything

of his father, was never p unis hed by

hi s parents for any fault except theft from

a member of the t r ibe. That was the

unpardonable sin in a communi ty whose

dwellings knew no locks nor bars and were

open to all alike . T o steal from others was

right and proper, but not f rom the people to

w h o m one belonged.

S A T U R D A Y , A P R I L 2 6 , 1 9 1 3 .

By ,J . R. D E H A V I L L A N D .

It wo uld make the greatest strain upon

the imag inat ion to realise the u t te r lawless

ness and sava ger y of which an I ndia n b oy

of twelve was c apab le in the old days . H e

had seen, and shared in, the to r ture of

prisoners and was a practised vivisect or of

the birds and animals t ha t were so unfor

tu n a te as to fall into hi s hands. Cruelty

had been the object-lesson of his infancy,

P r i c e O n e P e n n y .[ A L L RIGHTS RESERVED.]

which he l earned to practise as soon as

b o d y and mind permit ted.

B y the age of four he was consid ered fit

t o have a t iny bo w and a rrows of his own

which his father wou ld sho w him h ow to use ;

and b y the ag e of s ix he would wander

b e y o n d the c a m p on the l ook- ou t for

squirrels and small birds which he w oul d

bring d o w n at short range.

A t eleven years he w oul d p r obab l y be

a member of a band of b o y s ranging in age

t o fifteen, and wo ul d ofte n leave his home

for days at a t ime, practising wood-craft and

perfect ing his educ ation in the hunter ' s lore .

This was an early stage of his school ing .

N o w , to o, in the sum mer mo rnings he wou ld

be t ak en out for drill with all the other

you ths under the guidance of pr oved and

ex p e r i en ced fighting-men. T hu s, ar me d

wi th a bo w and arrows of reed, girt with

a belt to carry the du mm y knife, and wearing

a tu f t of grass up on his head to represent

the scalp lock , he w oul d be put through

the various evolut ions of Indian warfare—

the approach, the retreat , the rally,'—

which would conclud e wi th a general engage

ment between two sides.

T h e rules were s imple . Wh oe ve r was

s t ruck in a vi ta l p ar t was obl iged t o fall

as i f dead, and t o a l low his enemy t o

appro ach, to place his fo o t upon the prostrate

b o d y , to ma ke the feint of scalpi ng with his

w o o d e n knife, and bear awa y the cherishedtuft as evidence t ha t he had as g o o d as

slain a man. On the return to camp those

w h o had t ak en scalps were al lowed to

sing their t r iumph in the scalp-dance—no

smal l reward—before a general audience

which might includ e the Chiefs.

Frequent ly i t happened t ha t bands of

these youths have set out on predatory

ex p ed i t i o n s of their own accord, t ravel l ing

several hundr ed mile s in safety, often

throu gh districts which the y had never

seen before.

T h o se w ho know the Red Indian will

not wonder at the safe return of such parties

f rom any give n poin t , because an Indian,

l ike a hom ing bird, kno ws b y some inst inct

the shortest and mos t direct way to thel o d g e s of his peop le : but any on e is justified

in pausing to wonder at the outward j ourne ys

wi thout dou bt made by comparat ive

children.

There were no secrets in an Indian camp.

A m o n g s t so many inquisi t ive eyes i t was

impossib le to evade suspic ion. Every one

Y O U N G I N D I A N S O F T O - D A Y .

A Group of Children belonging to the Ute Tribe, North America.

THE MAKING OF* A " BRAVE:."

How -the Red Man went t o S c h o o l .



466 The "Boy's Obvn Taper.

knew b efo reh an d of the in ten t ions of the

b o y s , and so m e old " b r a v e " who had

fol lowed the trail would si t with them for

several days, carefully instructing them in

the landmarks to be observed ere route.

T h e time allotted for th e ex p ed i t i o n would

be d iv ided in to so many days , and one b oy

would be chosen t o r em em b er the detai ls of

the first day 's march, learning the m o v e r

and over till he k n ew th em by heart and,with the aid of a no tched s t ick , could repeat

th em . A n o th e r b o y would t ak e the second

d ay , and in this m an n er a j o u rn ey of several

hundred miles would be p lan n ed out as

cer ta in ly as if done wi th map and c o m p a s s .

I t is not difficult t o p erce iv e th a t any

isolated traveller who fell across the path

of one of these bands of young ruffians,

athirst for fame and im p erv io u s t o com

passion, would be as cer ta in of his fate as a

w o u n d e d deer beset b y wolves . B u t t h ey

did no t confine t h em se lv es to the m in o r

inciden ts of a cam p a ig n , and s o m e of the

most desperate attacks, fol lowed b y horr ib le

cold-b looded cruelties, have been ascribed

to these young lads.

A t h o m e , if he b e lo n g edt o one of the horse-

t r ibes of the plains, the redsk in b o y woulddeve lop in to a t y p e of rough-r ider wh ichhas

w o n the ad m i ra t i o n of all ex p e r i en ced

horsemen . For, after being put u p o n a

p o n y in in fancy and hav ing learned t o ride

as he learned to walk , he had b een employed

as b o y h e rd er of the t r o o p s of p o n ies on the

ou tsk i r ts of the c a m p , and in the course

of hi s p leasu re or e m p l o y m e n t had r i d d en

and raced every one of them until he k n ew

the qualities of each t o perfect ion .

The Ind ian p o n y ha s been truly d esc r ib ed

as the e n e m y of man. Whether thiB be

d u e to an ancest ry that ha s n ev e r k n o w n

anything but h id eo u s cruelty, at the h an d s

of Ind ian b rave or Span ish cabal lero , is a

matter of o p in io n . I t remains th a t the

Ind ian p o n y is in t ractab le , vicious and

savage, and at his best when l iv ing a wild

and arduous l ife. Y e t , let hi m be pu t in a

s tab le , an d g iven co rn , and he will degenerate

into wort hles snes s; whereas when left to

half die of s tarvat ion in the win ter he will

g row fat in the sp r ing and be ab le to carry a

cruel master untiringl y.

Th e p r o v e r b is no t withou t s ign if icance of

w h at he is cal led upon to en d u re : a white

m an will l eav e a p o n y fo r d ead ; a M e x i c a n

will get the p o n y up and ride him for fifty

miles before ab an d o n in g h im ; an In d i an will

r ide the same an imal for ano ther week .

B u t see hi m at hi s best, full of y ea r s and

the pride of l ife, a bucking, fighting, tem

pestuous b ru te wh ich takes a g o o d man

t o c o m e near. See, to o, the Ind ian b oy , wi th

no other harness than a cord of green h ide,

catch the p o n y and tie the re in abou t hi s

jaw, m o u n t h im n a k e d as he is, and take

h im, desp i te hi s fighting, over ro u g h and

s m o o t h for ho w l o n g and w h ereso ev e r the

y o u n g r ider will. Fo r to see is to w o n d e r

and admire .

I t was amongst the Southern Ind ians , the

Kiowas and C o m an ch es , that the idea of

plaiting a horse-hair halter in to the p o n y ' s

m an e was first e v o l v e d . In to this l o o p

which hung round the an imal ' s neck the

rider put his elbow and, so su p p o r t ed , wa s

ab le t o swing himself over the side of the

p o n y , l eav in g only hi s foot exposed . B y

long pract ice the warriors were able t o

ex ecu te th is manoeuvre at full speed, and

to shoo t their arrows across the bac k o r under

the neck of an apparently riderless horse.Afte r fighting, to steal horses was the

ro ad to famo. Th e readiness of a horse to

take fright and l eap off at sp eed for very

slight cause is said to be an ing rained

heritage from ancesto rs whose g razing

grounds were the ha un t of l i o n s ; but be

th a t as it may, the Ind ian bo y would soon

supp ly any th ing th a t m ig h t be want ing to

his readiness to s t am p ed e , as with blood

curd l ing yel ls and the whirl of w av in g

b lankets he s w o o p e d out of the silence of the

twi l igh t upon the unsuspect ing herd ,who,

terrified b e y o n d con tro l , b roke f rom thei r

p icket ropes and fled, only to be ro u n d ed up

b y thei r new masters and d r iv en tw en ty

miles at a ro u n d p ace to the prearrangedh id ing-p lace.

One would th ink th a t with such an

ed u ca t io n the Ind ian b oy of sev en teen or

eigh teen migh t have bee n considere d a

fully t ra ined " b r a v e , " or warrior. N o t

so . There remained yet an ordeal before

he should be ad m i t t ed to the rank and

status of a ma n ; an o rd ea l so terrible th a t

th e natural t h o u g h t is of w o n d e r th a t any

shou ld have su rv ived it . Yet failure to

endure the u t t e rm o s t invo lved ex c lu s io n

from all the priv i leges of a warr io r .

On an ap p o in t ed day the you ths were

su m m o n ed to the great med icine- lodge

where were assembled the lead ing men of

the tribe, the tor turers and their assistants.

F r o m a tall pole hung long ropes . T o this

th e bo y would be led, and, after a k in d of medica l ex am in a t io n t o find ou t h o w m u ch

he could endure , the m ed ic in e -m an would

take hi s sacred knife and m ak e t w o d e e p

incisions in the lad ' s chest . Rais ing the

flesh with a piece of wood, he would pass a

horse-hair rope under it, and repeat the

operat ion on the o ther b reas t . To the en d s

of the rope p ieces of wood were fastened,

and the lad wa s left to get free b y t h ro w in g

himself b ack w ard s in o rd e r to break the

sinews by his o wn weigh t—a course which

somet imes t o o k m o re than a day and a n igh t

in th e case of you th s o f excep t ional physiq ue.

Somet imes the m eth o d wa s varied. The

ropes m ig h t be fastened to a loose buffalo

skull, or the lad migh t be p laced on a pony

and the ro p es be fastened to it s head, so that

whenever it s t o o p e d to graze the horsehair

pu l led and f rayed the jagged wounds.

This ordeal wa s k n o w n as the" Sun-dance,

b u t the tor ture which was undergone by the

medicine-men was eve n more severe. After

the muscles of his chest ha d been brokenth rough , the lad was l ooked after by his

friends, and such is the tenaci ty of life in

a hunting Indian that his wounds migh t be

healed in less than ten d ay s .

I t was only natural amongst a people

whose re l ig ion la y so m u ch in the en d u ran ce

of pain th a t they shou ld put the h ighest

value upon a fitting display of courage in

the presence of their enemi es. As he h imself

had exercised al lhis ingenuity in devisingth e

keenest and most refined forms of suffering

fo r those priso ners who se lives were forfeit ,

so the R ed Man ex p ec t ed t o suffer at the

hands of any foes who m ig h t succeed in

cap tu r ing him. No matter h o w l o n g the

to r tu re , no g ro an nor plea for m ercy was

allowed to pass hi s l ip s .

O n the o ther hand , he would su m m o n al l

his energy t o endure , and all his powers of

imag inat ion to dev ise the most cutting

taunts for the people in to whos e hands he

had fallen, until the ev id en ce of failing

strength warned him th a t th e t ime was

c o m e for him to sing his death song , t o

ch an t the glory of his l ife, the n u m b er of

the warriors w h o m he had slain and the

revenge hi s people would take for the life

that he was g iv ing up. The Re d Ind ian

is not as a rule beloved by the white invader ,

but even those who hate him most must

c o n c e d e to h im the courage of a man.

BUSINESS IS BUSINESS.

~VTO end of fellows at our scliool,

I'm bound in truth to say,

Commercial instincts that are keen

Quite commonl y display.

They dearly love a " deal," and when

They scent one in the air,

You'd hardly credit what a lot

Of baits those chaps prepare.

Suppose that Tompkins has a cake

(Home-made)—well, up comes

Bryce,

An d offers him for half that cake

Two mangy piebald mice ;

An d when old Tompkins will not

" close,"

Bryce braces up his nerve,

An d bids a post-card and a " dab "

Of gooseberry preserve!

If ^'eldon wants a stamp that's

rare,

To any length he'll g o:

He'll rake out an electric torch

That can't be got to glow,

Likewise a pound of sat-on dates,

Some spikes for cricket-shoes,

An d two gilt studs—which makes it

hard

For stamp chaps to refuse.

I had a model aeroplane—

No longer is it mine 1I handed it to Travcrs for

A ball of coloured twine,

An ounce of menthol-drops, a shell

Prom some Pacific deep,

An d half a bottle of pomade—

I wonder, was that cheap ?

We'll turn out Generals, perhaps,

Or Admirals, maybe,

An d some of us will take to Law,

Some earn a Doctor's fee.

But though our aspirations are

Quite lofty, I'm afraid

That we are apt to show a bent

That rather points to T R A D E !

FELI-X LEIGH,

T o o Ba d !

J O N E S (to Smith, who can hardly open his mouth on account of

an attack of the mumps) :

" Hullo! My word I But you do look funny! Never mind, oldchap, cheer up ! Corae round to the tuck-shop ; I'll stand treat."



467

T h r o u g h A f g h a n

O r , L»ari K h a n o f t h e D i a m o n d S t a r .

A itthor of

By J. C L A V E R D O N W O O D ,

1 Sinclair of the Scouts," " Jeffrey of the White Wolf Trail,'

C H A P T E R I I . — F R O M T H E C A B I N T O A C A R A V A N .

WH E N

the

last pack

a g e h a d

b e e n

s t o w e d

away in

the hidden ro o m ,

Caesar whis pere d to

his comr ades at the

well 's mo ut h: " Clear

off n o w , boys , and get

to the s l o o p ; we can

HHBH haul ourselves out by

the rope. The old

woman will be on the loo k- ou t; tell her I

will give her a list of the packages when

I c o m e . "

" A y , ay, sir."

The smugglers m o v e d away, leaving

Caesar and his four comr ad es dow n in the

well. As they came near the cottage, lights

were suddenly flashed in their faces, and

before they kne w what was happe ning they

were held and handcuffed, each one to a

sturdy sailor. Th e struggle was onl y a

brief one, for the surprise had been comp lete .

The smugglers had walked, like sheep, int o

th e t rap.

" Brin g them al ong, lads, and rouse u pthe old woman. H ow many have yo u

g o t ? "

" Fifte en, sir, but som e of th em are

shore-men."

" Have you got that old rascal Caesar

Christian ? D o yo u kno w him ? "

" Ay , ay, sir, we kn ow him, but we have n't

got him this time, unless he is disguised."

" Confound that old woma n, will n othing

rouse her up ? " said the officer. "Bring an

axe here and smash the d o o r i n . "

Suddenly a la ttice w ind ow ope ned and a

pail of dirt y water ca me splas hing ove r the

officer. A shrill vo ice shouted ou t : " Go

away, you wicked, drunken sailors, frighten

ing a p o o r old woman at th i s t ime of the

night. Y ou ought to be asham ed of your

selves."

In a rage the officer caught up a c lod of

earth , and banged it at the w i n d o w , smash

ing the glass, and kno cki ng an old frilled

nightcap clean off the ol d wom an' s head.

Open the d o o r , in the King ' s Name,

y o u silly old f oo l , " ho roa red ; "ca n ' t you

se e that we are Preventi ve men ? The

game s up ; we ve

had our e ye on you

fo r many a mo nth

n o w . C o m e d o w n

or we'l l break the

d o o r i n . "

Mo th e r R e d c a p

shouted out an

a p o l o g y a nd s lowly

o p e n e d the d o o r .

The lamps were

lit, and the dis

consola te - look ing

smugglers were es

c o r t e d into ther o o m . They were

stationed at one

end, and the officer

IHBNSfci p r o c e e d e dto scruti

nise thei r faces .

" A h , Bi l l , is that you ? Bi g Matt , c augh t

a re you th i s t im e ? " He k new mo st of

them, but to his chagrin there was no sign

of Caesar Christian.

" No w, Mat t," he said, " where is that o ld

villain Caesar 1 He was with yo u, was n't h e ? "

" D o e s it look like it, y ou r hono ur ? " re

t u r ned Matt with a grin. " Wh at have yo u

gra bbed us for ? W e have n' t been doi ng

anythi ng, have we ? "

" Wai t till we have exami ned the garden,

an d t hen y o u ' l l k n o w , Ma t t ; there o u g h t

to be a big pile of g o o d s under the t rees ou t

t he r e . "

" T h a t ' s a lie , you r honour, beggi ng your

pardon for being so free. Y o u ' v e made a

mistake th i s t ime , and yo u wil l s o o n find out

that you have been foo led by some one ."

Matt knew that the ha r d cobble -s tones

which l ined the p a t h to the well wou ld

reveal no footmarks, and that the well itself

w o u l d bear n o evide nce of the g o o d s w h ic h

had been conce aled in it . B y long practice

the smuggler s knew how to do t he i r w o rk

wit hout leaving traces. At that m o m e n t

B o b was brought in to the co t tage .

" Ah ," sa id the officer, " yo u have g ot

the lad , I see ; put h im here, and n ow get all

the l anterns lit, and let us sea rch the gar den

fo r the stuff. Y o u chaps who are chaine dto the prisoners, s t ay here. Th e others fo l low

me ! "

He went into the garden, and with the

res t of his men searched every f o o t of the

gro und . There was not a single package to

be seen anywhere. Th ey peered under the

t rees and into the bushes, but not a partic le

of smuggled g o o d s was to be disce rned. The

puzz led officer raged, but at length gave

up the search . He r e t u r ned to the co t tage ,

boi l ing over with rage, and o n c e m o re

quest ioned Big Matt .

If he had bee n awar e he might hav e

seen old Caesar an d his four men steal ing

quietly along towards the s l o o p . T h e y

had cl imb ed out of the wel l , and proceeded

noiselessly thr ough the garden , after the

Preven t i ve men , and , o n c e p a s t the gate ,

had run quietly to the pier. A few mom ent s'

inspec t ion showed them that t he r e was no

o n e on board the Maggie. Th ey hauled u p

the sails and cast ofi the ropes. The s trong

tide caught the s l o o p and swept i t do wn

towards the sea, and in less than an hour

the y were surging along under a powerful

breeze pas t the Bar Lightship, and out

into the I r i sh Sea .

Ol d Caesar sla ppe d his thi gh, and roa red

with laughter when dayli ght came, and,

in a few hours, the Island sho wed on the

far hor izo n. H e knew the officer w o u ld

never disco ver the secret hiding-plac e do wn

the well , an d that his men would be released

after a da y or so in pr is on.

Sudd enly his face clo ude d. " Ja ck y, " he

said to one of the m en , " see if Master B o b

is in the cabin asleep—t he yo ung f oo l c a m e

aboard unbeknowns t to me , and I expe c t

y o u ' l l find him fast asleep down t h e r e . "

T h e y searched the cabins, and the for epe ak where the sails were kept, but there were no

signs of the lad .

" Go r ! " said Caesar, as he scra tch ed his

head wi th ve xat ion , " Mr. Laurie will have

a fit when he kn ow s wha t has hap pen ed !

Bless us, what c an we say wh en he sees us ? "

Th e strong win d swept them to the

Is land and s o o n t he Maggie was alongside

the stone breakwater. Th e cott age was

strangel y quiet, and the blinds were dr awn .

A s Caesar stood on the deck a low wailing

cr y was heard. It rose higher and higher,

an d t he r e was an intense pathos in the sound.

" G o r ! " sa id Caesar , " s om eo ne is keen ing

over the dead . W h o can it be ? "

Nusseer st ood in the cott age d o o r , and ,

shading his eyes fro m the strong sun, call ed

o u t —

" Is the lad with yo u ? Is Master B ob

there ? "

" N o , " repli ed Caesar. " Wh er e is Mister

Laurie ? "

" He is dea d ! " wail ed the Si kh. " De ad

s ince yes ter day . Wh er e is the lad, Caesar ?

Wh er e is the lad ? "

Swif t ly the end of l ife had c o m e to Mr.

Lauri e . He did not know that B o b h a d

slipped away on the Maggie, for in t he

morning hours the angel of dea t h ha d c o m e

to him, and wi th scarcely a sigh the tired

spi r i t of the adventur er sought the res t of the

U n k n o w n B e y o n d . •

Nusseer, going as usual to awake him, had

f o u n d him dead, and the faithful heart

brok en Sikh had fallen by his side, and wep tb i t t e r tears of sor row. " Ai , Ai , b e l o v e d

mas t e r , why cannot I fo l low thee ? " he

wai led . " W oe , wo e is me ! Spea k but one

l i t t l e wo rd ; smil e on me as you were won t to

d o ; com man d me , fo r I am t h i ne ! "

H e wou ld have slain himself upo n the b o d y

o f Mr. Laurie , bu t the tho ught of B o b

res t ra ined his hand. " No , no ," he said,

" for the lad's sake I must l i ve , and soon he

will c o m e b a c k to m e . "

But B ob never r e t u r ned . His fa ther was

buri ed in the old chur chya rd of Maug hold ,

and Caesar sailed bac k to Liv erp ool and mad e

inquiries, a t the prison, the d o c k s , an d

a m o n g the me n who had been released, but

s ince the night of the capt ure of th e

smuggl ers not a trace of yo ung Ro be rt Lauri e

had been d iscove red .

A t l as t Caesar resolved to beard the lion in

his den . He called on the officer wh o had s et

the t r a p .

" Ah, Caesar, still in g o o d heal th , I see . "

" Y e s , t ha nks be ," repli ed Caesar. " I am

getting a l i t t l e way wor n, but my eyes are

g o o d ye t , you r honour . "



468 The Boy's Otvn Taper.

" An d your legs to o, Caesar ? Y o u kn ow

h o w to run, eh ?

" Ri gh t yo u are, sir, and m y hands t oo . I

can pull a rope and haul on a sail, and strike

a blow with here and there one, your

honour . "

" What did you bring in the Maggie this

time, Caesar ? "

" Herring and green stuff, same as usual,y o u r h o n o u r ; herr ing to feed man, green

stuff for horses and "

" Do n' t say asses, Caesar, m y man, o r yo u

and I will fall ou t. "

" Y ou said i t ; you r honour, not me ; the

asses I kn ow do n' t feed on green stuff."

" Th at ' s eno ugh , Caesar : so me da y I shall

catch y ou , as sure as your name is Caesar

Christian, and w hen I do it will be a sad d ay

fo r some one on the other side of the water ."

" And for someone on th is s ide , too , your

honour," replied Caesar with a quiet smile.

" I s my lady your g o o d wife well, and the

childer ? "

T h e officer's face chan ged, and for a

mo men t or two the men l o o k e d straight

at each other.

" Y o u are a bra ve man , Caesar, but be

careful , m y son, be carefu l. My wife and

child ren are very dear to me, so is my dut y,

an d Go d help ing me , I shall do it even if it

oosts me everything I value in this w or l d . "

" Right you are, your honour, we know

ea ch oth er. If 1 were a smug gler I sho uld be

afraid of a man like you rsel f—so I sho uld ."

" D i d y o u c o m e here to tell me this,

Caesar ? "

" No , yo ur honour, but to ask you some

thing. On t ha t night I 've heard say t ha t

y o u gra bbed a bo y, a l i l ' bo y abou t so high.

His name wa s Bo b ; can yo u tel l me where

t h a t boy is now ? "

H e fixed his eyes intently on the officer's

face and waited his reply with great

eagerness.' I can not , Caesar. W e ques tione d the

men and searched for the goods in Mother

R e d c a p ' s garden, but found nothing. The n

said I to the m en, ' W e hav e got the s loop

at any rate. Com e awa y dow n to the pier . '

The lad was fastened round the elbows with

a rope , we to ok the gag off his mout h and

made him walk alongside one of our men.

W h e n we got to the pier the s loop ha d

vanished, and so had our boat . W e hunted

about in the darkness but not a sight of the

sloop was to be seen anyw here . Sudd enly

a slight for m passed m e and I heard a splash

in the wate r. T w o of m y me n fired their

pistols. W e heard a shout and then there

was silence. W e ran along the shore and

searched about , but the lad had disappeared.

S o m eh o w he had slippe d out of the ro pe.

• W e fou nd it afterwards on the pier.

Whether we hit him or no I do not know,

his shout seemed to say that we had, but at

any rate we did no t see him again, and I

fancy he was carried o ut to sea on the stron g

tide, and drow ned . Wa s he one of the lads

belong ing to the Maggie, Caesar ? "

Bu t the old smug gler was to o war y to be

cau ght so easily. Feign ing a look of great

surprise, he said, " Th e Maggie, your

hono ur ? Surely yo u don 't mean to say that

it wa s m y sloop you captured t ha t night V

A n d me not on it ! I hav e neve r let the

Maggie c o m e into the Merse y with out me

b e in g on board. Y o u r hono ur is dreaming,

surely ! "

" Lik e eno ugh , Caesar; we did not re ad t he

name , but I had a wild kind of idea that

some of the men we gra bbe d belon ged to

y o u r sloop. But I sometimes have strange

dreams, and this might have been one of

them."

" May you have many such, your honour,

.and good-bye , and God bless you."

" Good-bye , Caesar; let me sho w yo u ou t. "

H e rose and opened the door for Caesar,

and the ol d smugg ler gave him a se amanlike

bow. As he tu rned away the officer called

after him—

" And were you dreaming about the lad,

Caesar ? "

Caesar said nothing unti l he got on the

quay and looked out upon the sweeping tide.

" A dre am, " he mutte red, as he bru sheda tear out of his ey e ; " a y , and a mighty

bad one, too . P oo r laddie, poor laddie,

d ro w n ed in the tid e, and whi le I was hurr ying

away like a frightened coward ! "

A n d now it is time to return to Bob Laurie.

W h e n the Preventive men had led him down

to the pier he had ma nag ed t o wriggle out of

the bond s whi ch held his arms. Th e rope

had been tied carelessly, and, b eing some

what thick, it had not been

difficult for the sli ghtly-

built lad to get his hands

free. By the time they

reached the river he had

the shore and lande d abo ut a mile dow n the

river.

H e found himself among some sandhills.

Tired , wet, and bleeding from the woun d in

his head, he staggered along until he felt so

fat igued that he could go no farther. H e

fell upon the sand, and after binding a

handkerchief round his forehead, the poor

lad fell fast asleep .W h en he awakened and tried to move he

found that he was bound hand and foot. He

had dreamed that he was being tossed up and

d o w n by black men, in a kind of rude cradle,

an d that an extra bump had aroused him.

on ly to fling it asid e, an d he was free. He

seized his opportunity, and dar ted quickly

into the wa ter.

H e fell full leng th, an d was rising, w hen

the pistol s went off. One bullet tou che d

him slightly on the forehead, and knocked

awa y the skin. Th e pain forced a cry from

his lips. He div ed, and came up a good

distan ce from the shore. Th en he faced the

current and kept himself in almost the same

sp o t , watc hing the men as they hurried up

and do wn the beach searching for him. He

waited until they had given up the hunt,

and then, feeling that the tide was carry

ing him out to the sea, he struck out for

" A shout of laughter greetedBob and his conductor as they

ca me within th e circle of the firel ight." (Seep. 46».)

H e discovered then t ha t he was on a wooden

shelf in a covered-in cart or caravan, and that

th e strange mot ion was caused by the rapid

m o v e m e n t of the vehic le o ver a rough ro ad.

H e shouted, but his voice cou ld not be heard

because of the rattling.

H e lay for a while, and then shouted

again. A rough voice from the front of the

cart grow led ou t: " Tie something over that

lad' s mou th, L eah , or hit him over the hea d

with a st ick."

B o b had sense enough to lie quiet, and

the bumping and rat t l ing went on as before.

A t last he fell asleep again, and did not

awaken until the evening . Whe n he opene d

his eyes he found a piece of bread near hi s

face. Hi s hands were no w free. He seized



Through A f g h a n Snoksjs. 469

th e food an d ate it raven ous ly, for he was

almost famishe d with hunger. His clothes

had dried upon his b o d y , but he felt stiff and

sore, and his head ache d fearfully with the

w o u n d on his forehead, an d the jol t in g of

th e c a r t .

A dim light , struggling throug h a t in y

window, showed him t ha t i t was almost

nightfal l . The cart no w went easier, and

B o b gathered fro m the soun d of othervehicles t ha t the cara van was passing

through a tow n. He heard the sou nd of

Cathedral chi mes . It was the first time he

had ever heard s uch a peal of bells, an d it

made a great impressi on upo n him . The

bells seemed to be very high up, and their

solemn music came thro bbin g and vibrati ng

through the air, speaking a s trange message

to the hear t of the sensit ive bo y.

He thou ght of his dear father awai ting his

return in the qui et glen in the Isle of Man ;

of his own wickedness in causing him so

much anxiet y, and of the sorro w whic h he

knew his disappea rance wou ld bring to old

C'iEsar, and of the anxio us solici tude of

Nusseer. The tears rained down his cheeks

as he ponde red over these things, and he

v o w e d that he woul d never diso bey his

father again. An d ho w he longe d for home

as he lay in the da rk , noisy carava n !

He was recalle d to himself b y the tou ch

of a soft han d up on his sore fore head , an d a

gentle voice whispered some words into his

ear. H e could not discern the face, but

he kne w it was a wom an who was s peak ing,

and presen tly a soft cur l fell acros s his face,

t w o t iny arms stole roun d his neck , and he

felt a child's lips pressing his own.

The cart no w ran upo n soft grou nd, a nd

he heard rough voices shouting out greetings

of welcome, and then the caravan s top ped.

H e could hear men unfaste ning the horses,

and turning them loose to graze, and a

perfect b abe l of voices sounded al l round.

A lantern shone on his face, and a rough-

look ing man, with fierce bla ck eye s, a cur led

beard and long snaky hair, bade him get up.

B o b did not require to be told tw ice .

Desp ite the stiffness of his lim bs, the lad

s tar ted up, and fol lowed the man.

C H A P T E R l i t . — I N T H E G I P S I E S ' C O M P A N Y .

W H E N they emerg ed from the stuffy

caravan, B ob saw t ha t he was in a b ig w o o d .

A dozen caravans were drawn up alo ngside

a forest road, and o n the grass whi ch ran by

th e p a th a mot ley c r o w d of so me fifty

gipsies, men, wom en and children, were

gathe red a rou nd a big fire. A bo ut th i r ty

horses were te thered by the roadside, an da number of savage-lookin g dog s pro wled

abo ut. The rich verdure of the spring had

made the forest a perfect paradise of waving

branc hes and fluttering leav es. Th e turf

was rich and sprin gy, and the hu ge fire cas t

a weird light upo n the trees and gipsy

enca mpme nt. A big iron pot was suspended

on a tr ipod made of th ree s tu rdy saplings,

and a wither ed old wo man , with a red

shawl throw n over her head and shoulders,

was busily stirring the pot , from whic h a

most appetising smell proc eede d.

A shout of laughter gre eted Bo b and

his con du cto r as they cam e within the circle

of the firelight. Mu ch of their speech he

could no t understand, for it was made up

mainly of oaths a nd gi psy slang, and s ome times to Bo b it sounde d more like Pu sht oo

than anyth ing else. So impress ed was he

that it was the ton gue he kne w, that the lad

replied to the old woman in that l anguage.

Sh e stared at him in aston ishme nt, and gaz ed

upon his face intently for some minutes.1 1 Dark hair, black eyes, white teeth ,

firm l imbs, " she mut ter ed ; " he must b e a

R o m a n y of the Eas t . From Spain, or

Egy pt. Speak again, cully, say m any

w o rd s . "

B o b did as she requested, a nd launche d

into quite a torrent of Pus htoo and Sikh.

The gipsies cro wde d round him, and man y

inquiries were ma de fro m his cap tor , as t o

where he had fallen in with the lad.

" On the sandhills near Leasowe," he

said w ith a growl. " Min d yo ur ow n affairs.H e belongs to m e."

" Yo u won' t keep him long, Reube n,"

said a hea vy coarse-loo king wom an, " t ha t

c o v e ca n run like a deer, and h e will take

the first cha nc e he can get to mak e a da sh

into the forest ."

" Wil l he ? " replied Reu be n. " I'll ma ke

sure of that ."

He went to his caravan, and returned with

a hea vy leg iron, the shackles of which he

snapp ed round the legs of the bo y.

" Le t him try to run with these on ," he

said with a gri n; " if he tries it on I'll

set the dog s after h im , and c ut his flesh

f rom his bones when I catch him, if the

dogs have left anything to get hold of—

Y o u hear that , m y running c o v e ? Well ,

take warning."

B o b said nothing, and the atten tion of

the gipsies was soon diverted from him to

the contents of the iron pot. Neve r was

such a mixture seen before, thou ght the

lad, when he saw the food distributed.

Every thing se emed to be bubb ling in the

savoury stew, rabbits, birds, chickens, beef,

pork, and othe r things so mysterious that

B o b ' s kno wled ge absolutely fai led him.

The food was served in basins or deep

wooden platters, and eve ryon e got what he

desired, and dev oure d i t with the p erfect

aba ndo n of the wande rer, whose appeti te had

been sharp ened b y fresh air and a bunda n t

exercise.

Year s afterward s, when he be ca me a rich

man, he used to remember that first meal in

the dar k shades of the forest near Chester.

B o b did not kn ow the place then because

the gipsies did not refer to it unti l they

were far awa y from the distr ict , but he never

fo rgo t it .

Th e gipsies were horse-deal ers, w ho

trampe d ab out from place to place, pickin g

up all kinds of horses, some the veriest

screws, and som e, on the other hand, quite

g o o d and serviceable animals. Th e men

were adepts in all the tricks of horse-deal ing

and horse-d octoring , and w ould steal a co l t

or run off with a plo ugh horse with out the

sl ightest com pun cti on. On the whole ,

however , they were honest , because they

knew that the countryside would not

tolerate horse-stealing.

T h e y knew every poin t—go od, bad, and

indifferent—abo ut horses, and c o u l d manu

facture g o o d poin ts and el iminat e bad

ones with an abil i ty born of many years of

sharp pract ice. An d they were horsem en,

t o o , of wond erfu l skill, able to ride the

wildest stal l ion bareb acked , and kno win g

to a nicety ho w to t reat the animals. Th ey

were cruel by nature, and yet considerate

in their t reatment of the ho rses, able t o

d o c t o r them, to rub st ra ined sinew s, to ease

sore fet locks , to cure sore back s, and to

get the utmost out of them in work a nd

speed.

T h e y had a kind of geniu s in dealing wit h

fierce, half -brok en animal s, an d beli eve d

t ha t every horse could be tamed bywhisp ering a certa in sent enc e in its ears.

A t any rate , the y were ready to t ak e any

horse o ut of the ha nds of owners who c o u l d

d o nothing with i t , an d' at the end of a

fe w wee ks the anim al wo ul d be a different

creature. The y kne w ever y horse fair from

John O 'Gro ats to Land ' s End, and t ime d

their wanderings by the almanac of fairs.

Fo r a few weeks Bo b was kept fet tered,

and was closely watche d by Reu ben and

his com pan ion s, and ev ery night a vicio us

mongrel dog lay across the d o o r of the

carav an. Bo b had beg ged to be al lowe d to

writ e to his fathe r o r to Caesar Christian,

but Reub en would not hear of it.

" D o y o u th ink I want the pol ice after

me ? " he said with an oa th. " Y o u bel ong

to me, no w, becaus e I fou nd yo u. I kno wal l abou t you , my la d; yo u didn ' t get t ha t

mark o n you r forehe ad honestly, and you

k n o w very well t ha t th e pol ice in L iverpool

w o u l d be glad to get their ha nds on you .

I' ve heard of Caesar Christi an an d the

Maggie. One of the jol l iest smugglers in

th e Irish Sea, he is, and mo re t h a n one

officer in Scot land and Englan d wou ld give

a g o o d sum to catc h him in the act . Y o u

w o u l d be t r a nspo r t e d as sure as you ' re a l ive ,

if you went to the p o l i c e . "

B o b had dreaded the pol ice since he ba d

mad e his escape on the night w hen the

smugglers had been captu red, and th is fear

had kep t him from trying to sl ip aw ay from

Reu be n. Besides , he was beginning to l ike

the free an d wan der ing life of the gips ies.

He had man y a b l o w and kick, and rough

w o rd s were plentiful , but Lea h and her

l i t t le daughter Agne s were f o n d of him, and

ma ny an hour he whiled aw ay with t he

tw o -y ea r -o ld child cl inging to him, or

riding on his shoulders.

Leah had tr ied to get the b o y ' s s tory

f rom him, but B o b was cauti ous an d said

v ery l i t t le. After a few mon ths spent in

wander ing about the count ry, Leah saw

t h a t the lad was wearing himself out with

anxie t y concerning his fa ther . At length,

in great s ecre cy, she wrote a le t ter to the

cott age in the Isle of Man, address ed to

Caesar Chri stian , an d ask ing if all was well

with Mr. Laur ie. She did not say wh y she

made the inqui ry, and mad e no ment io n

of B o b .

T h e y were in Warwi ckshi re a t th is t i me ,

stay ing for a week for the ho rse fair at

R u g b y , and Leah knew t h a t they would be

in the neighb ourh ood long enoug h for Bo b

to recei ve a repl y. Th ey wait ed mor e t h a n

the we ek, for Reu be n was doi ng a g o o d

t r ad e . A t las t a l e t te r came f rom the

Isle of Ma n. It was as fo l lows :

" H oner d Madam,

E xcuse spelin because the qu il l is

bad and l i t t le ink. I have go t a bo y to

rite thiss letter to yo u, being as I am no

skoll er an d goi ng to the fishing whe n

y o u n g . He is W . C o w l e y ' s son fro m the

R e d Cot tage, the l i t t le one with blue eyes

and a club fo o t a n d s tu t te r s . Y o u r k i nd

enk-wirey about Mr. Laurie, p o o r gentleman is dea d, in his sleep t ha t night I was

away, but perhaps y ou will not k no w abou t

that , being berrie d in the old churc hya rd

at the He ad with hundreds o f follow ers

f rom Ram sey . A kind man and a g o o d .

His son being drow nde d all his mon ey an d

g o o d s went to the nigger ma n Nussee r

w h o sold everything an d went bac k to

India , exc ept the shares in the Maggie

w h ich I have go t , he gave them to me for

p as t wages . The cot ta ge i s shut up till

I g o in to it be fo re th e wi nte r fishing. So

n o more, honerd madam, and hopes t ha t it

is wit h yo u as it leaves me at pres ent.

G o d b l e ss you .

Y o u r s t r u l y ,

GassAF. C H R I S T I A N .

N . B . , the cross- mark at the side I h ave

m a d e .

P.S.—Mr. Christ ian is very glad you

rote to him b ecaus e i t does him g o o d t o

speak about Mr . Laurie. B I L L Y C O W L E Y . ' '

Leah read th is le t ter as they sat by the

fire awaiting the r e tu rn of her h usba nd.



The Son of an Anarchist. 471

Having received hi s orders , Ronald

marched his m en , of w h o m B o b b i e was

one, away towards the ba nk of the r iver .

T h ey t r amped for some t ime in si lence,

listening t o every sound and looking behind

every c l um p of bushes with their lanterns ;

bu t there wa s n o sign of the lost boy. A t

last, when they we re nearly level with the

Pl ym ou t h boys ' cam p and Rona ld was about

to rejoin Mr. La ndor , B o b b i e s tumbled

against something and, s tooping down t o

see what it was, uttered an

exclamat ion of surprise.

" W h a t is it ? " asked Ronald .

" The colours ! " said Bobbie .

" The enemy's t roop-flag which

P ao lo captured. See , it is still

in it s c a s e ! H e must have

d ro p p ed i t . "

This discovery was qu i c k l y

followed b y another, for a scout

wh o had been searching among

the bushes came running u p with

a broad-br immed hat in his han d,

which everyone recognised as

Pao lo ' s .

Bobbie was immensely agi tated.

" Oh, what can have happened

to him ? " he cried. " Ca n he

have fallen into the r iver ? "

R o n a ld alone remained out

wardly calm. Summo ning t w o

of th e younger scouts, he sent

them up to tel l Mr. Lan dor they

had found a clue ; and then , as

th e t w o b o y s scampered away

into the darkness, he set t o work,

assisted b y Bobbie , t o examine

the ground all round for foot

prints and other signs.

Near the place where they had

found Paolo ' s hat they noticed

that the grass had been torn u p

here and there as if some one ha d

stuck a stick into the ground and

then dropped it . There were

other signs also t ha t a struggle

had taken place : the grass was

t rampled down in all direct ions

and some one had evidently dug

his heels into the turf in several

places, though the grass was too

thick t o s how any actual foot

prints. A little farther away

towards the north on e of theboys sa w so me th in g fluttering on

a gorse bush; it wa s a bunch of

brown and orange r ibbons, the

co lours of the Mongoose Pa t r o l !

A t this m om e n t a sound was heard of

many people running, and the whole slope

to th e west was covered with lanterns

flashing hither and th i ther like will-o'-the-

wisps : both troops were comi ng dow n with

their scoutmasters to the scene of Pa o l o ' s

disappearance.

" Tell them to be careful not to t r ample

on any t r acks ," c r ied Ro nal d; and s om e

of his par ty ran off with the message . The re

wa s little fear of this, for, as the ground wascovered with short dense grass, there were

no tracks to speak of .

Presently Mr. La ndor and Mr. Eva ns ,

the scoutmaster of the Pl ym ou t h t r oop ,

arrived, and, after examining the spot ,

came to the same conclusion as

R o n a ld , namely, t ha t Pa o l o had been

o v erp o w ered by t wo or more persons and

carried of f through the bushes towards the

north.

So the whole band advanced s lowly

through the bushes, spreading out on all

sides, and examining by the l ight of their

lanterns everyt hing whi ch migh t giv e som e

clue t o their comrade ' s fa te. Far th er along

they found Paolo's staff , and farther still a

little bit of khaki cloth hanging on a thorn

bush, bu t after t ha t they lost the scent

A P r c T U R x - s a t r E H E A T H E N C H LT C BB .£ t n t T H I S HOUSJE IN THE TOT OF A TREE,

• B Y T H E M O O N L I G H T , ' H E sM t ,

"BEFORE Go me T O B E D

"I W I L L RgAP 1 H R O O G H My MEW "& O i?"N 8

NO JjONGEK A. H E A T H E N I S H E .

2HK

al together and no more clues of an y de -

script ion were found.

W i t h great reluctance, as it was now past

midnight , Mr. Landor dec ided t o cal l in

th e boys and send them back t o bed, while he

and Mr. Eva ns continu ed the search alone.

W h en , in answer t o his whist le, bot h tr oop s

had assembled, he said t o t h e m : " W e

hav e do ne all we can in the dark . To- m or r ow ,

if he doesn ' t turn up before then, there will

be plenty of work for you al l . S o now youwill fall in in patrols, return t o your c a m ps

a nd turn in at once . I a m going a little

farther with Mr . Evans ."

R o n a l d and B o b b i e both begged Mr.

La ndor t o al low them t o a c c om pa ny h i m ;

at first he was incl ined t o refuse, as B o b b i e

looked utter ly fagged, but the latter de-

clared t ha t he w oul d no t th ink of rest ing

ti l l Costa was found, and at last Mr. Landor ,

k n o w in g Bob bie ' s obs t inacy, gave way, so the

t wo b o y s remained with him and Mr. Evans.

On their way back to the c a m p the other

b o y s met the vil lage constable and a couple

of farmers, who had been told b y Leverson

of Paolo ' s d i sappearance .

Constable Penhale, a stout , red-facedwes t -count ryman, was burst ing with ex-

ci tement and impor tance . Here was a

ch an ce of distinguishing himself !

Since hi s instal lat ion as vil lage

cons table at Rockle igh nothing

m o re exci t ing than an occas ional

p o ach in g affair ha d occur red t o

break the m o n o t o n y of his daily

rounds. Th e peop le of the distr ict

were honest enough t o ke e p

within the la w on most points,

and, bein g well off the mai n road ,

they were n o t much t roubled

with tramps. Bu t now , thou ght

Penhale, here at last wa s a case

real ly worthy of his abil i ty !

T he b o y s to ld the cons table

what they had discovered and

which wa y Mr. La ndor an d his

co m p an io n s had gone ; so Pen

hale an d the two farmers hurrie d

on and ov er too k the little search-

par ty before they had gone mu ch

farther. Mr. Lan dor made a state

men t of the facts of the case to the

po l iceman , w h o made copious

notes in his p o c k e t - b o o k , and

then said :

" The scout boy as fetched me

said summ at a bou t this here

y o u n g gent , what 's missing,

having to do with anarchists ."

" So I have been told," said

4 M r . La ndor . " B ut i t seems too

strange to be t r u e . "

" M a y be , sir ," said the con

stable. " B ut I was just w onder

in g if it ha d anything to do with

this here ." An d he pr oduc e d

from hi s p o c k e t a pr in ted c o m

munica t ion f rom Scot land Yard ,

direct ing him to be on the look

ou t for a little dwarf with white

hair, small black eyes and a

h o o k ed nose, who was bel ieved t o

be in the ne ighb ourhoo d. Whe nM r. Landor read this aloud

R o n a l d and B o b b i e both gave

ve n t t o a sudden exclamat ion.

" There was a dwarf just like

t ha t near the c a m p this morning," expla ined

R o n a l d , as the me n looked r ound at h im in

surprise. " T h e b o y s who were left at hom e

said he c a m e and watched them making the

s tew an d then walked away. And —Oh ,

B o b b i e , did you not ice i t ? —I remember Paolo

looked ra ther queer when the dwarf was

ment ioned. H e kept asking Seth if he wa s

sure the dwarf had white hair and black eyes ."

" Y e s , " s a i d B o b b i e , th inking hard . " I

d o r e m e m be r now . H e looked dist inct lyscared. But , my word ! i t must have taken

some p l uc k t o go off in the dark and capture

the colo urs, when he kn ew al l t h a t ! Oh, what

a fool I have been ! A beast and a f o o l ! "

" I t seems there is something in Rona l d ' s

s tory about the anarchists after all, " said

Mr . Landor, great ly alarmed. " Y o u had

J



472 The "Boy's Otvn Taper.

bet ter wire to Scotland Yard for a detective

at o n c e , Mr. Penha le. I fear th i s is a ser ious

business . "

The polic eman nodde d ; to te ll the truth,

t h o u g h th i s was the chance he had longed

fo r all his life, he was getting rather out of

his depth.

" 'Ti s a bad busine ss," said he. " Bu t I

dun no as we can ' t manag e it oursel ves.I tell y ou what, sir. If we do n' t find a ny

t h i ng afore to- mor row evening, I ' l l wir e to

L u n n o n . "

" N o , " sa id Mr. Landor dec ided l y . " I t

is too serious a m a t t e r for delay. If yo u

w o n ' t wire, I wil l . Y o u d o n ' t k n o w h o w

man y of these blackguar ds there are about

here, and they are sure to be well armed;

y o u will need assistan ce."

" I h a d n ' t thought o f that, sir," said

Penha le. " I t h i nk as I'll wire, after all.

I'll go back at o n c e and d o it, as it d on 't

seem we can do muc h more to-night . W e

don 't kn ow where they be, and in the da r k

w e ' m likel y to get shot if we run acr oss

t h e m . "

" V e ry w e l l , " said Mr. Landor, with a

sink ing hea r t . " Per haps yo u are r ight.

I can't bear to give up the search, but it is

clear that there is nothing more to be found

here, and to track them fur ther in the da r k

is imposs ible . W e had bet ter start again as

soon as it is light."

(To be continued.)

S o, t hank i ng Mr. Eva ns, Penhale, and

the two farme rs for their assistance, Mr.

Landor and the two b o y s re turned to their

c a m p . They were too sad to talk much

on the wa y ; and, when they reached the

c a m p , they swal lowe d in silence the hot

cocoa and biscuits which Leverson had

prepared for them, and then ret ired without

delay to their respective t ents . S oon th e

whole camp was wrapped in slumber, for

all were exhausted with the labours of the

da }-

, and even the sentry dozed at his po st.

B o b b i e Brandram alone lay awake on his

blankets s obbi ng bitter ly far into the nigh t,

till even he su ccu mbe d and merci ful sleep

thr ew a veil of forgetfulness over his grief.

D o Y o u W a n t t o P l a y f o r Y o u r C o u n t y ?

A S e r i e s o f E i g h t A r t i c l e s S p e c i a l l y W r i t t e n f o r t h e " B . O . P . "

O b e c o m e

anything of

b a t s m e n ,

c r i c k e t e r s

must play

s t ra ight , and

in al l case s

where the for

ward s t roke ,

^ d e f e n s i v e

BBS back stroke,

a n d d r i v e

a r e b e i n g

m a d e , t h e

swing of the

bat should

be ver tic al; but in hundreds of cases

one sees young players in such positions

that, tr y as the y will to play s t ra ight , it is a

mat t e r of imposs ibili ty. Their feet a nd

bodies are wron gly placed, thus vio la t ing

the first rules of sou nd posi tio n, becaus e the

shoul der is not ove r the line of the ball,

and this being eo one is boun d to play w ith

a crooked bat.

I do not suggest that the young player

should place his shoulder immediately over

the line of the ball di rect ly it leaves the

bowler 's hand and cramp his movements.

T o p la y s t ra ight properly there should always

be a certa in amo unt of uprigh tness of figure,

absolute freedom from all crampness, and

quickness of foot action . Th ere is l i t t le

tim e to spare after a ball is deliv ered, but

in the seco nd or two remaining a batsman

shou ld ende avo ur to get well ove r the ball and

play so that if the ba t left his hands at the

time of striking, it would t ravel in exactly

the same direction as that t aken by the ball.

Y o u must not get a wron g impression

when I start my advice upon bat t ing b y

pointing out a fault in the a t t i t udes of a

lo t of J 'oung cricketers w ho cannot pla y

s t ra ight . D o not imagine for one momen t

that I put any faith in the actual st ance at

the wick et previ ous to the delivery of the

ball. So lon g as that stanc e is easy it re ally

doesn ' t mat t e r what s ort of a figure yo u cut

B y W I L F R E D R H O D E S

•{The famous Yorkshire and England Cricketer).

C H A P T E R n . — S O M E T H I N G A B O U T B A T T I N G .

at the wi ck et ; a lthough, of course, an

awkw ard stance will assuredly discount yo ur

chance s of mak in g stro kes successfully and

with the minimum of effort.

One often sees grow n-up people teaching a

boy how to s t and at the wicket , and the

trouble they t ake in getting him to put his

b o d y int o a certai n pos iti on in order to hold

his bat upri ght is, in my opi nio n, wasted.

W a t c h him closely and find out the position

he t akes up quite natural ly , and t hen le t

him alone; for nature will do more for him

in th i s respect than all the coach ing in the

world. Wh at is, howev er, the most im

por t an t point to remember in ba t t i ng is the

work of the left l eg, and the c o a c h who wants

to get the best results will work upon this

fo r all he is worth.

T he left leg mus t alwa ys be the g uid ing

line to any forwar d stroke, or in ju mpi ng

out to hit. B y th i s I mean that when the

bat meet s the ball the left leg mus t be

m o v e d so that the left foot is right close

up to the bat. If th i s is persev ered with and

properly t ra ined duri ng youth , it is a w o n

derful asset and certainly n o b o d y can hopeto b e c o m e a first-class bats man wit hou t it.

The leg should m o v e l ike c l o c k w o rk t o

its proper place in har mony with the eye,

wrist, and e l b o w ; after that there is no

need to trou ble about the stroke—i t will

come quite natural ly . Alw ays let the bat

follow thr ough w hen play ing the ball or

hi t t ing at it, so that it is practically

poin ting in the dir ecti on in whi ch th e

sphere is sent . One of our i l lustrat ions

shows a bats man in the correct a t t i t ude

after having finished the stroke known as

th e " o f f - d r i v e . "

I should th ink that m o re ha r m is done to

the youngster by the parent , master , or other

interested person who wants him to impro ve

an d hasn ' t quite the right idea of correct

coaching. For instance, the greatest mistake

an incompeten t c o a c h can make is in en

deavouring to restrain a youth 's natural

desire to hit. My adv ic e is to enco urag e it,

but, at the s ame time , teac h him ho w to hit

prop erl y and h ow to acquire a really good

defence as well.

I su ppos e, as a rule, the mischi ef is done by

a senior who goes to see a first-class mat ch

and is deepl y impre ssed w ith the style of a

certain ba tsm an w ho, may be, has scored a

cent ury. He sees the stead\' and correct

strokes, the wrist work of the late cut, the

accur ate plac ing of the ball just b eyo nd the

reach of the fieldsm an, and a dozen other

things w hic h perhaps are only the result of

ma ny years ' prac tice and exper ience in the

best of co mp an y and upo n the best of

g rounds.

Then he goes home and endeavours to teach

his son in an hour or two what has t aken th e

County player ma ny years to learn. The

youngs ter, howe ver , has his ow n ideas of

e n j o y m e n t and exer cise, and hits out lustily,

perhaps at the ball which he shoul dn't.

Then the res t ra ining influence of the parent

c o m e s in, and his hi t t ing powe rs are likely

to be spoiled.

The prevai ling habit amon g you ng bats

men of to-day, so soon as they know how to

sto p a ball, seems to be to play for " keeps ,"

or , in othe r wor ds, to endeavo ur to remain

in at the w ick ets for as lon g a perio d as

possible without troubling about scoring.

Much of this is due to the ambition of a

youth to make his runs in a graceful and

stylis h manner . Style seems to c o m e f i rs t ;

yet I am sure it is a mat t e r of impossibility

fo r any batsman to properl y watch and time

a ball if he is thinking only of making pret ty

strokes.

A nourish o f the bat and a graceful bend

of th e b o d y m a y look all right from the

p a v i l i o n ; but noth ing can be mor e effective,

from an art ist ic as well as servicea ble point

of v iew, than the meeti ng of the bat and

ball at the right momen t, with the result

that the max imu m of power is imparted with

the minimum of effort.

On e of the great faults comm itt ed by

second-class cricketers consists in over-

eagerness to keep playing forward on every

kind of wick et. The forward stroke is



Do yott Want to Tlay for your County? 473

safe enough on a g o o d plu mb wicke t, but on

one which lends itself to the wiles of a bowler

I kn ow of no more dangerou s met hod . It

stands to reason that in playing forward a

m an starts his stroke a l i t t le earlier than

when playi ng ba ck ; or, at an y rate, he has

Th e finish of the off-drive. Observe ho w the

bat has followed through.

not such a great co mm an d of the ball if

there should be any amou nt of break upo n

it. Stick y or cake d wickets give the bowler

every assistance, and at such times it is

almost an act of madness to play forwar d in

the o r thodox manner .

We hear peopl e speak of a ball pi tchin g

upon the " blind spot," but that is only one

way of admit ting that after reaching a certain

length the ball is unw atc hed . This losing

sight of the ball is a ha bit whi ch is hard

to get rid of, and requires assid uous

practice to master. I t i s no uncommon

thing to see a batsman com men cin g his

strok e at the same time as the ba ll is leavi ng

the bowler 's hand. So me ho w he has got i t

into his head that unless he does so he will

never play the ball in time, and, as a result,

we see cases of mistiming, playing premature ly, forward strokes abso lute ly spoile d,

and the mini mum powe r used in the actual

hit , which by careful methods of watching

would, in all l ikelihoo d, have resulted in

four add ed to the to ta l instead o f a catch ,

or, at the best, no run at all.

This fault is more c o m m o n in club cricket

than on first-class gro unds ; but youthful

cricketers are not by any means alone in

spooning ba ck a ball to the bowler, ruining

the chance of a four leg-stroke, and failure

in an attempt to score with a sharp s t roke

past co v e r -p o in t .

This means that th e c lockwork style of

forward stroke is mad e at eve ry ball t ha t

is not actual ly righ t-d own short. This is a

habit whi ch must be broken, and I wou ld

strongly advise all my young readers t o

make a fresh start , as it were, and ma ke up

their minds to watch every ball right on to

the bat.

In this way alone strokes will c o m e , an d

once the habit of watc hing very closely is

formed it will not b e lost and the f orm in

bat t ing will soon go up 100 per cent . Of

course at first—indeed, for qui te a lon g time —

it will appe ar as if yo u are stone wally , ye t

i t is as ton ish ing ho w qu ic k ly by the watch ing

meth ods yo u will pic k out the right b all to

h i t .

Somehow, the shot will c o m e in s t inct ive ly and , rememb ering a lways to get the

left foot as near to the pi tch of the ball

as poss ib le when d r iv i ng and p lay ing for

ward, yo u will be surprised at the pow er

which yo u will get into you r strokes. I

am quite sure that , had I not fol lowed such

lines as I am n ow giv ing you , I wo ul d not

have met with the success whic h I have ,

I a m thankful to say , ach ieved .

In my article of last week I u rged u pon

the reader the real neces sity of practisin g

on t h o ro u g h ly g o o d wickets , bu t once t h e

first principle s of the g ame hav e bee n

proper ly mastered there can be very little

d o u b t t ha t all cricketers should have a

cer ta in amou n t o f exper ience o f eve ry

kind of wic ket . I do not refer on ly to the

" pl um b " and the " sti cky " variet ies, but

to those uncul tiva ted a nd " plough ed-fie ld "

wickets that generally fall to the lot of the

Saturday afterno on cricket er, wh o is a

mem ber of a clu b with headquarte rs t ha t ar e

situated upon the c o m m o n or public recrea

t ion g round .

I am fully aware that the village wicket

is n ot, as a rule, one up on which yo u are

l ikely to see graceful batti ng. Neverthe less,

it has its g o o d point s, for whilst the yo ut h

wh o has learned his bat t ing on the billiard-

table wickets will t h ink onl y of style, and,

in ninety-n ine cases out of a hund red, get

out throu gh no t watch ing the ball sufficiently ,

the cricketer wh o has had some expe rienc e

of t reacherous g rounds has been compel led ,

in the interests of his own safety, to watc h

Preparing to hit the half-vol ley , or sl ightly

over-pitched ball, in order to meet the Dali

immediately it has pitched.

the ball th rou gh its flight ve ry closely, an d

I doubt if this excell ent habit eve r leaves

h im .

I am afraid t he ga me of cric ket is ve ry

like other things in the fact that success in

it can only be attained by consta nt per-

Taking a good length ball off the legs (R a n j i t -sinhji ' s favourite stroke). This mea ns a boundary

every time it is played properly.

severance. Of course , one you th may b e

bet te r fitted, so far as phys iq ue is co nc ern ed ,

fo r the game th an ano ther , and merely on

acco u n t o f this will mak e more rap id

progress ; bu t no mat te r ho w big and strong

a you t h may be he canno t hope to p lay

cr icket , o r , ind eed , any o ther game , wel lwith out a great amou nt of stea dy and

conscien t ious app l icat ion .

T w o of the greatest necessaries in cricket

are strong nerves and g o o d sight, but there

are man y thousands o f youn g p layers who

run the risk of shatter ing bo th by cu l t ivat ing

the hab i t o f excess ive tob acco -smo king . I

am not go ing to say it is abso lute ly wro ng

to smoke, bu t I adv ise those who have no t

alre ady acqu ire d the habit to leave it alone.

I never knew toba cco -sm oke to do any g o o d

yet, but I kn ow of ma ny case s in which it

h£ls do ne a lot of ha rm .

Perhaps the wo rst form of smo kin g is

the cigarette habi t, whi ch, I am sorr y tosay, is not confine d to men. Wa lk in g

across our Lon do n open spaces on a Saturday

af ternoon one sees some thousan ds o f young

cr icketers en joy ing the game to their hearts'

con ten t , bu t very ma ny o f those who

are no t act ua lly fielding o r bat t ing are,

as a rule, to be found with cigarettes in

their mouths , uncons ciously do ing their best

to des t roy their chances o f ever becoming

any th ing more than the most o rd inary

cr icketers .

T h e greatest ene my to success upo n the

field is the dri nki ng ha bit , wh ich in thes e

da}'s of sel f - indu lgence and temptat ion ,is

only t o o c o m m o n , and I would strongly

urge those of my readers who want to excel

in games, or, inde ed, wan t to do their d u t y ,

to kee p clear of i t . It is easy to say t ha t y o u

will be on l y a moder ate d r inker and that

an occa siona l glass of beer c an do no h arm.

This argume nt is so freque ntly u sed, and is,



474 The "Boy's Oiatn Taper.

after all, on e of the po ores t excuses a weak -

mind ed indivi dual can bring forward . The

dr unka r d of to- day was only a mode rat e

drinker but a f ew short months ago. It is

so easy to drift downhi ll that one scarcely

notices tho veloc i ty with which the j ourney

is made.

I would speak of the greates t necessity to

play all games in the right spiri t and be

loya l to you r captain. W e have all, a t one

tim e or another, been told by a youthful

confidan t that he has been put in late

because the captain is a p o o r judge of the

game . No w, it is a lways far bet ter to re

m e m b e r that the captain knows mor e about

your abilities than you do . He may no t

see you r perfor mances thro ugh the same

rose-tinted glass es; bu t, nevertheless, he

k n o w s wha t is best for the success of the

side, and yo u ma y be quite sure that y o u

will eventually get your deserts.

If yo u are a g o o d bowle r and another man

is put on before you, don' t sulk, for this will

d o your case more ha r m than g o o d . I have

seen young fel lows who consider ed them

selves hurt when they were not called upon

to b o w l , go to a posit ion on the field wi th

resentment wri t ten large upon their counte

nances. Then along cam e the unexpe cted

chan ce of a catch, and it was " muf fed ,"

simply through the fit of " sulks " having got

the upper hand. No ma t te r where yo u are

put in , nor to what posi tio n of th e field you

are sent by you r captain, do you r best, and

your exertions will be sure to receive due

conside ra t ion .

I t h i nk one of the bes t p ieces of adv ic e I

ca n give to the young man who wants to

excel in games is in connec tio n wit h the

man ner in whi ch he spend s the tim e not ac

tually dev ote d to either sport or wor k. Rig ht

apart from the games of our choice t he r e

are mome nts , or hours , when we are n ot

e m p l o y e d in any ve ry serious duties , a nd

it so frequentl y h appens that these moments

are the most dangerous pitfalls for the

you th wh o is just gr owing into the stage

of m a n h o o d .

B a d habi t s are easily for med and terribly

difficult to break, and the b o d y cannot be

in that condition which is necessary to

prowess in the field unless you t ake pains

to be physically " fit."

I t i s no unco mmo n th ing to see a' really

brilliant cricket er or footba ller lose his form

and cut his athletic career short by in

dulgence in forms of v ice . Quite apart

from the benefits one derive s fr om m uscular

exercises in cricket, I generally look upon the

y o u n g man who pu t s his whole heart into the

game as one who has probably conquered

hi s little weaknesses, if only because clean

livin g and s uccess in athletics g o hand in

hand .

The next article in this series will be

entitled, ,

" Y O U R B A T , A N D H O W T O USE I T . "

S c a r r e d Cli f f I s l a n dA T a l e o f a V e n d e t t a .

By A. F E R G U SO N .

Author of " The Singing Kettle"

" Held as Hostages," "Up the Essequibo,'

etc., etc.

s Barto Barbuzz i ' s

eyes met mine ,

they were suddenly

full of evil t rium ph.

If my own showed

half what I felt ,

they must have

l o o k e d l ike those

of a snared animal

that sees its

butcher's knife

uplifted.

" C o m e out ! "

c o m m a n d e d Barto harshly,

in English.

I came ou t, so as n ot to

b e ignomin iously hau led

o u t .

" Go up ! " he said, poi nti ng to the slop ing

ledge that ran up nearly to the top of the

cliff.

I went up. But , so nerveless and weak

had I suddenl y grown , I do not t h i nk that Ic o u l d have hauled myself, by the t ree ro o t s ,

th e last three perpendi cular feet on to the

cliff top, if M a s o , f rom a b o v e , had not helped

me— and held me fast afterwards, as Bar to

d irec ted h im to do .

I knew, from what I ha d heard him say,

that th is big stupid Mas o was rather on my

side than on his broth er's. Bu t I a lso

k n e w that he was to o muc h under the

latter's th um b to ' make it of any use to

appeal t o him for pro tect ion. So I said

no th ing .

The n his brother clam bered to the top of

t he cliff and t ook me over f rom M a s o , with

a grip of iron.

" N o w that I have got the bo y, I have

g ot the Cazale t oo ! " h e said, in I t a l i an , t o

his broth er. An d he laughed with bru ta l

meaning .

I had been feeling quite crushed and hope

less, absol utel y dazed , to o, by the cruel trick

that Fa te had pla yed me in allow ing Bar to

Barbu zzi t o so easily disco ver the hiding-

place , which I had thou ght t o be bey ond

C H A P T E R V I I I . - — A B O Y I N D E S P E R A T E S T R A I T S .

discovery . But his bru ta l laugh and the

grim significance of his spoken words

awake ned courag e and the spiri t of obstinate

resistance in m y boyish breas t . He thought

that he c o u l d easily force me to b etray

Francie to him , did he ? Wel l , it was for

me to show him that I would sooner be cut

in pieces than d o that.

Though I knew the Undine was not far

off, I had seen her failure to make our har-

bour, and I had a despairing sense that he lp

would c o m e t o o l a te at any rate for me, who

was no w Bart o Barbuz zi 's prisoner to d o

what he liked with.

W h i l e the ruffian was mar chi ng me dow n

f rom the cliff and u p again to the bit of level

gro und on which our house sto od, I was

praying, in crude bo y fashion, but wit h my

whole soul, for courage and s t rength to bear

whatever he might do to me without yielding

to his wil l . Wh en he came to a s tands t i l l

and sl ewed me round to face him, I had

reached a pitch of exalted det erminat ion thatmade me return his loweri ng gaze quit e

fearlessly.

" Y o u l i t t le pig who have g i v e me the

muc h tro ubl e," he began, menacing me w ith

u g l y l ooks . " Quick, t a k e me where hide

Cesco Caza le ! "

I did not stir a muscle and kept steadily

looking up into the savage face .

He shoo k me with angry im patie nce.

" Say qu ick , yo u l i t t le pig ! Wh ere hide

that accursed Cazale ? "

I never spok e a wor d. The man 's blac k

temp er— whic h certainly was allied to in

sanity in its degree of viol ence and vi ndic-

t iveness—began to boi l up within him.

" The tongue that say not quick, I cut

him ou t ! " he roared at me . " Say quick !

p ig ! chi ld of the evi l on e ! "

St r ung up to the highest pitch of nerve

tension, I stood , pale-face d but silent and

resolute , s tar ing up at him . His maimed

left hand— t he tou ch of whic h, even t hen ,

filled me wit h sic keni ng rep ugn ance —he ld

m y shoulder in a vice-like grip. His other

hand held a lon g, sto ut stick with whi ch,

presum ably, he had been poki ng about in

the undergrow th of the gullies. M addened by

m y continued silence, he suddenly shortened

the stick and brough t it violently across my

legs.

I was not consc ious , at the time, of any

pain from the bl ow— thou gh the bruised and

bleeding condition of my legs betokened,

afterwards, that t he r e must have been a good

deal of pain —bu t the tou ch of the s tick

wielded b y that ruffian b rok e up m y resolute

silence an d s t ra ined comp osur e in a way that

I do not th ink a cut from his knife would

have done.

In a kin d of Bers erker rage, I stru ck

ou t at hi m wit h fists and feet , fiercely and

repeatedly, un t i l he caught and i mpriso ned

the m in a bear' s hug.

Then I fell back on my tongue and burs t

out with a reckless t o r r en t of speech—in

thei r ow n Sicilian I ta l ian, to the utter stupe

faction of M a s o , and, for a few moments,even of Barto .

" Y o u are a co war dl y ruffian to hit a bo y,

and I defy yo u to find Fra nc ie !" I cried

tempes tuousl y. " Ye s, I know where he is !

A n d it was I wh o fou nd his hidi ng-pl ace for

him , long ago —i t was I wh o sent him to it ,

when he knew it was you who was coming

up from the beach, in the mist. I 'v e been

fool ing you ! fool ing y ou ! All the t ime

I'v e under stoo d what yo u have been saying

to each other, for I 've learned your language

f rom Francie . I kno w that yo u stole the

yach t ou t yonder . And I know that you ' re

going to kill p o o r Francie, if you catch him,

and that yo u mean to kill me, to o. I knew

enough to get yo u hanged, yo u villa in. An d

y o u will be hanged , for certain, if you kill

m e. For, even now, close to the island, there's

a yac ht full of me n who are comi ng to ca tch

y o u . And, anyway, it is only me that y o u

will be able to kill . For you won't have

time to search for Francie, and, even if y ou

had, you wou ld neve r man age to find him !

N e v e r ! "



Scarred Cliff Island. 475

Such a wild, fool ish outbur st it was ! Bu t

it gav e a relief to my over-str ained nerves .

A n d m y boyis h pride, whi ch the b l o w w i th

the stick had cruelly outra ged, to ok com for t

in the feeling that, som ehow , I had evened

up things a l i t t le with Barto , by thus

defiantly proclaimi ng my kno wle dge of

his murdero us designs on Francie and m y

share in defeating t hem.

I had exulta ntly ex pect ed him to receivem y dec la ra t ion that I had befooled him

with a trem endou s outbur st of passio n. Bu t,

half mad man as he was, m y rage seemed t o

make h im ca lm. Ye t there was someth ing

unnatural and de adly in his ca lm that

would hav e chil led me with fear, had I no t

go t bey ond fear, for the time being. Wh at I

said about the yacht close to the island had

no effect on him, as he, evidently, believed

it to be a fool ish l ie to scare him, which I

had seized upon in m y desperatio n.

He released my hands and feet, and held

me a l i t t le way from him in a vicious grip.

" Lit t le bo y , yo u t a lk too much , even

though your friend, the Cazale, has t a ugh t

y o u our tongue wel l . " He spok e no w in

I ta l ian to me— ver y quiet ly, but his sm ile

was d iabo l ica l . " No w to wo rk ! Lead

us where the Cazale is hidd en." An d he

whipped out a big, sharp cutlass.

" Tha t I never will d o , " I answ ere d firmly,

speaking I ta l ian too . " Y ou may k i l l me

first. Bu t I war n y o u that my friends m ay

be on shore at any mo me nt ."

" I wi ll k i l l you , wi thou t d o u b t ! " he

said, cont empt uous ly disregardful of m y

threat. " Bu t n ot first. Fi r s t y o u find

the Cazale for me . A nd yo u will when I

hav e let yo u feel wha t pain mea ns. "

I wor e m y na vy flannel shir t with the

front open , as the cus tom was at m y col l ege .

Barto Barbuzzi flourished the shining cut

la ss , backwards and fo r wards, be fore m y

eyes , in a highly terrific fashion. The n

sudd enly he dro ve it st ra ight at m y bare

breast .

T o his ev iden t d isappoin tmen t I d id no tflinch, though M a s o , with no s tom ach fo r

this kind of business, if too much afraid of

his brother to interfere, t u rne d his back on

us and walked away.

" For a beginni ng—thi s ! " cried Bart o,

d ramat ica l ly .

And, pressing the poi nt of the knife in to

the flesh so as jus t to dra w b l o o d , he roughly

scored a roun d, red circle on my breast .

Tho ugh he mea nt, for his ow n safety, to

kill me when he had killed Francie, it was

not to his adva nta ge t o do me serious in jury

un t i l he had fo r c e d me to show him the

hiding- place of the ma n whos e life he was

so madl y ben t on tak ing . An d presumably

he thought that , w i th t he a t r i c a l knife

iiourishings and scratchings, he c o u l d

frighten and pain a bo y int o obe die nce

to his wil l . Dist inc t ly nonplussed because I

sho wed no sign of feel ing pain or fear, he

again raised his knife aloft and made some

br av e flourishes w it h it .

" In the next place—t his ! " cried the

ruffian, and he brought the cutlass down

in a savage s w o o p .

Bu t before it c o u l d tou ch me, the weapon

wa s arrested by a lou d cry of alar m fro m M a s o .

" The knife, whichwa s meant to reachm y heart, only grazedm y arm before burying itself in the woodof a tree."

" Qui ck ! Barto , le t us

fly! B e h o l d the padrone

and his friends wh o

arrive ! " he ex cla ime d.

Barto , d ragg ing me

with him, rushed t o

where Maso sto od and

l o o k e d where he pointed.

There was the Undine

c o m i n g towards the

island on a tack that

again promised to bring her into

our harbo ur ! But I dared nothope anyth ing fo r myse lf wi th

Barto B arbuzz i ' s compel l ing

c lu tch on m y shoulder .

That ruffian, at the unex

pecte d sight of the ap proa chin g

y a c h t , ut te red a frightful oath .

" An d I have not ye t killed

the Ca zale ! " he cri ed.

" Qui ck ! " repeated Mas o exci ted ly. " Let

us get to our yach t and be away before th ey

land and dis cove r ho w yo u have been acti ng

here ! "

" I will not leav e un t i l I have done what

I came here to d o ! " cr ied Bar to frantically.

" Ar e you altogeth er mad ? " asked his

brother in great a larm. " H o w can you

get a chance to kill Cesco Cazale no w ?

A n d yo u wil l no t s o o n get anoth er chance

if the y catc h and put yo u in pris on. D o yo u

l o v e prison that yo u wou ld wait here to get

it ? " Fe a r was mak ing Maso 's brain an d

tongue qu i te n imble .

" Corpo di Bacco ! the Cazale would have

been a dead d og lon g ag o, if it had n ot been

fo r this li t t le villa in ! " cried Bart o, wheeling

round upon me with ungovernab le fu ry .

There was no c lumsy thea tr ica l i ty in his

face or mann er no w. If ever knife in a ma n's

hand meant murder, his did.

Inst incti vely fearing som e such acti on on

hi s part, I had been prepari ng mys elf for

it . In the withdraw al of his a t t e n t ion f rom

me , his g r ip had s lackened somew hat . No w,

as he wheele d rou nd on me, I made a s udden

and supr eme effort, and wr enche d mysel f

free. Th en I ran.

Wi th a yell of rage, he cam e after me . Bu t

I was counted much the best runner of m y

age at s c h o o l , and I was no w running for

m y l ife. It di d not t a ke the big lumbering

ruffian half a minute to realise that he could

not over take me . Wi th his broth er shout

ing frantic entrea t ies to him to desist from

wastin g precio us tim e, he gav e up the use

less chas e. Bu t, half ma d as he was, he

vent ed his baulked fury b y hurling his knife

at m y back , just as I was gaining the c o v e r

o f some bush .

His aim wo uld hav e been only to o t rue ,

but , by G o d ' s mer cy, I stu mbl ed at the

mom ent and swerv ed in s tumbling . The

knife , whic h was meant to reach m y heart ,

o n l y grazed my arm before bury ing itself in the w o o d of a tr ee.

(To be concluded.)

THE CLIMAX.

By F E L I X L E I G H .

"lTACKENZIE in the holidays

JlL Decided that he'd try

To cultivate a "splendid aim"—

A " keen, unerring ey e."

Upon a catapult both cash

An d trouble did he spend,

An d built himself an implement

On which he could depend.

He placed a jam-pot on a stick,

An d after squinting hard

For half a minute, he let fly,

And missed by half-a-yard.

He shot again, and yet again,

Until he'd tired his wrist,

Bu t perseverance went for naught,

He missed, and missed, a nd missed I

He took his cycle from its shed,

An d in the saddle got,

An d pedalled out of town in search

Of something live to " pot."

He " drew a bead " upon a thrush,

An d at a rook fired he,

Then at a squirrel, but. alas,

He missed 'em, all the three.

(He'd left his cycle in the hedge,

A silly thing to do,

For tramps were many on that road,

Policemen rather few.)

He missed a rabbit, missed a rat

(A haysta ck, t oo, belike I)

An d later, when he " chucked it up, "

He even missed his like I



476 The "Boy's Oban Paper.

STUMPS: A PARIAH.

T h e S t o r y o f a n Indian Dog.

HE wa s a wretched l i t t le pariah dog, used

t o il l usage f rom his earl iest days,

hi s body covered with mange, and large

sores where he had been kicked, while with

torn ears and bones al most through his skin

he was a pit iable o b j e c t .

This was the appari t ion which Una

Trafford saw peeping throug h the verandah

as she sat at her early tea in an up-count ry

b u n g a lo w in Ceylon . Shewas gazing at

th e lovely view through the pergola just

ou ts ide, which was covered with masses of

c l imbing roses, thinking h o w beautifuleverything was in the early sunshine wi th

the soft topped hills in the distance fading

into grey-blue haze, when she caught sight

of the misera ble little creature lo okin g so

wistfully at th e food on the table.

" Oh ! you p o o r little thing," she said as

she hasti ly broke u p some bread and

p o u red some milk over it. " Wh y ! you

l ook half starved. Here, yo u poor little

waif, eat th i s ," an d she set it d o w n on

the ground.

N ev er in his short life had the poor little

fel low heard such gentle tones . He crouc hed

along , hi s tail between hi s legs, the most

dejected of dogs , but finally, after several

t imes making the a t t e mpt , he summoned

up coura ge to put his nose int o the tem pti ng

repast, looking round e very momen t to se e

if anyone was coming t o drive him off with

a kick and the usual te rms of abus e he was

only to o well used t o, as he finished off eve ry

scrap.

Una watched him with pitying l ooks ,

saying, as sh e t o o k u p the plate, " I can ' t

pat you , yo u poor little thing, yo u are too

m a n g y , but anyhow, yo u have had some

fo o d . "

A t tea time the same scene was repeated,

and in a few days it was quite an under

s tood th ing th a t the little do g had only t o

look an d wa tch for his friend an d it meant

comfor t and a kind word for him. By degrees

he ventured to fol low Una when she went

out, her husb and remonstrat ing with, " M y

dear, we shall hav e all the pariahs in thebazaar up, if you begin this sort of thing.

Better let me put the p o o r thing out of his

misery."

" O h ! Wilfrid, don 't shoot him, let me

see w ha t I can do for him; he has such a

plaint ive, sad little face, an d I have got quite

fond of h i m."

B y A L I S O N G R I E V E .

So , after a g o o d deal of persuasion from

his young wife, her husband c onsented to

her doing what she liked with the " mangy

b e a s t " as he called her protege\

Afte r a warm ba th with carboli c soap ,

and a few dressings of mange remedies, in

a couple of days even noone would have

recognised in the bright little animal the

outcas t of former t ime. Gradually he lost ,

t o o , the cringing way he used t o c o m e t o

l ook if it wa s a case of friends or foes, and

he even began to greet his mistress with a

wag of his ver y stu mpy tail.This at once led to his name of " Stumps,"

and no happier do g could be found in th e

whole island of Ceylon, as with handsome

collar and well-brushed coat he fol lowed

his mistress everywh ere, prov ing himself to

be a capital watc h do g, growling furiously

if a pariah dared sh ow himself anywhere

near the bungalow.

Strange to say , he t o o k the greatest

liking to Wilfrid Trafford, who, al though a

do g lover , could no t forge t the little fel low's

origin and teased his wife unmercifully about

he r " par iah."

" I don ' t care a bit what you call him,"

she retorted. " H e is a new and qu ite re

markable sort of breed, peculiar t o this

district of Bettalawa, and if hi s ears are just

l ike a ba t ' s and if he ha s crooked legs, in

fact, if he is a cur ios i ty in every way, w hy !

I'll undertake t o sa y th a t some day you ' l l

be pr oud t o ow n h i m; anyhow he has

quite a decided character of his own, and

always knows a f r iend. W h y ! Wil f r id ,

I caught you yourself giving him a bone

yes terday, and my biscuit box is always

gett ing empty and I have seen s o m e b o d y I

w o n ' t ment ion giving Stumps m y cream

crackers on the sly. Do yo u happe n to kn ow

w h o th a t s o m e b o d y is ? "

Wilfrid l aughed. " Wel l , my dear, as it

happens, I , t oo, have a weakness for the small

d o g . I suppose i t is because you are so fond

of him and I can't help liking him for his

d e v o t i o n t o you . "

T i m e passed, ayear fled, and in spite of thearrival of a small person who t o o k u p a g o o d

deal of Una's time, Stumps was still her

great pet and the admirat ion of all his

fo rmer associates when hepr oud l y fo l lowed

his mistress thr oug h the bazaa r.

She was sitting reading one day in the

verandah, Stumps asleep on her dress, her

b a b y in charg e of the aya h close by, when

sh e looked up and l istened at tentively.

Wha tev er wa s Wilfrid whist ling l ike th a t

for ? He had go ne a couple of hours before

t o lie d o w n to try to sleep off a sl ight

att ack of fever, and ha d asked th a t no one

sh o u ld disturb him.

Y e s ! there was no doub t abou t it, and sh e

heard his favou rite tune, " The Last Rose of

Summer," whist led soft ly over and over

again. Whatever could he be doi ng that for ?

She decided, however, not t o disturb him

at present, an d the whistling went on, Stu mpsin the meantime several t imes gett ing u p

and walking about in an uneasy way and

then ly ing d o w n again, but all the t ime

listening at tentively.

H e finally tr ot ted off, Un a havi ng got up

t o discuss with the ayah som e of her small

so n ' s requirements. Suddenly, she heard

her husband shout in a terrified way, then

a heavy fall, and as she rushed t o see what

was the ma t te r , she heard a scuffle as though

Stumps was worrying something. She

almost fainted with fright when on entering

th e r o o m she saw her husband lying un-

consc ious on the floor, Stumps in the corner,

gasping, and a large cobra lying, mangled

and dead, quite close to her husban d.

Una, howev er, did not hesitate a moment ,

but rushed to him with an agonised

c r y .

"Wi l f r id ! Oh,Wil f r id! he hasbi t ten yo u! "

and tried to drag h im a way from the cobra.

In the mean time , the ayah wh o had fol lowed

her had called the servants a nd they lifted

h i m on to his bed.

Una desp atched one for the doct or, and

the others carried the reptile away with

man y ejaculat ions of dismay, for they, too,

thou ght the cobra had bitten their master.

B u t in a few moments Wilfrid opened his

eyes and was soon able in short breathless

sentences t o tel l her what had really

happened.

H e woke up , he said, after a short sleep

t o find the creature sitting upon him, with

it s hood up, looking as though it was justabou t t o strike. He had no coverin g over

h im , having just taken off his co at an d lain

d o w n in his clothe s. Almo st paralysed

with fright, he had t he prese nce of mind to

remember he had heard how a cobra could

be fascina ted b y som e one whistling a tune.

So he began, very softly, anything he could



Under the Edge of the Earth. 479

th e vil lage slep t , the great bore was again

sweeping up the narrowed channel at the

river mout h. Then th e loud ru m b le of a

nigh t goods-train upon the long v ia d u c t

d r o w n e d al l o t he r sounds fo r a t ime . Wi th

that, his thoughts went to th e hills b e y o n d ,

which, from where he s tood , could n o t h a v e

been seen.

H o w s t range seemed life ; how s t r ange

an d c o m p l e x ! On a sudden his t h o u g h t sturned to the schoo l , and the l a tes t eccen

tricities of the Wizard . W h a t was his

secret ? For secret he u n d o u b te d ly h ad ;

an d undoubted ly guarded i t with peculiar

jealousy. Morris wished he could l earn

someth ing as to this ; could see , for ins tanc e,

(To be continued.)

s o m e g o o d e x p la n a t io n of that last achieve

m e n t . As things s t o o d there was—wel l , he

mus t o w n i t , e v e n if a l i t t le shamefaced ly ,

as t h o u g h a d m i t t i n g disloya l ty to a

ma n for w h o m he had the h i ghes t

regard—stil l , there was just a suspic ion

of th e u n c a n n y .

B u t as ye t it w as no t revealed to

hi m t h r ough w ha t port ion of tears he

should l earn someth ing of the hiddenk n o w l e d g e ; nor w ha t port ion o f h o p e s

an d fears, wild exc i tement , and

s t range, out-of- the -ord ina ry doings

should fall to him and others

when the sec re t was in pa r t m a d e

k n o w n .

INDOOR SPORTS AND

PASTIMES.

(Solutions to Puzzles and Problems, continued /rom p. 447.)

Th e solution to t ig. 8—the squa re

an d circles problem—is given be low:

In fig. 9 we ha d a ca r pen t e r i ng

T H E D E A D D O G S .

In Fi g . N o . 7 we saw two dogs of melan

cho ly a sp e c t ! Y o u have to make these dead

dogs live by the addi t ion of four lines, no

F I G . 7 .

m o r e and no less. Trace fig. 7 o n to a sheet

of paper and add the necessary lines as here

shown. I give here a useful " t i p " for

accurately copying • a n y design that m a y

appear in these puzzles. Place the open

page on which the design appears agains t

th e window an d place a sheet of pap er over

i t . You will find that the design can no w be

easily seen t h r ough the pape r and very

easily t raced.

/ 1 1

/ i z

\ V 2

2 1

\ 1 1 /

F I G . 9 A .

problem: H ow t h is can be solved will be

seen from the a c c o m p a n y i n g diagrams.

Fig. 10. The Shakespea r ean q u o ta t io n

o \ ° o

— " " o

o o \ o

formed by the addi t ion of three matc hes t o

t he o t he r five, i s — " A l i t t le m o r e than kin

an d less t han kind " (Hamlet),

Correct solutions to these problems have-

been rece ived from E d w in W a t s o n , F . L i d d l e ,

J . T . W a t s o n , A . H e w i t t , H. M. W i l m o t ,

J. H . Fr eeman , V . F. B o w e n , F. Hamilton^

an d H o w a r d R i d g e .

Correspondence.

F i a . 8. F I G . 9 B .

A. PRIDHAM.—Kelantan is one of the Malay State*that became British in 1909. It contains about

5000 square miles, and is on the east coa st of the

Malay Peninsula. Trengganu is another Malay

state that became British in 1909 by the treaty o fr

Bangkok. Its area is about 6000 square miles. It

is also on the South China Sea and is about 200 miles-east of Penang.

H. S. C.—George the Third crowns of 1820 are worthfifteen shillings each if in good preservation. W e

do not value stamps, and we do not give the namesof dealers.

T. C. and S. B.— No licence is necessary at present for

private installations of wireless telegraphy, but

proposals have been made to that effect.

G. SMITH.—Attend evening classes in electricity or

get some elementary book on the subject. It is of

no use interfering with what you do not understand.Such information cannot be given in the small spaceat our disposal in this column.

C . A S K E W . — I t is one of the old election mugs, of which

there were man y. They are of no value whendamaged. Tho Liddell was probably Henry Thoma s,

member for Liverpool, who afterwards became Earl

of Ravensworth.

A REG ULAR SUBSCR IBER TO THE "B.O.P."—Write to

Dr. Budge at the British Museum and he will tell

you all about it.

J. R . DENMAN.—There are no George the Third penniesof 1777. Those of 1797 are wdrth a shilling. See

answer to H . S . 0.

DELIA.—Thank you for your " scotch," as you call it,

but it does not give the particulars necessary for

identification. If the coin is gold it is a half-guinea.

THEO. HuXNiSETT.—Your kind appreciation of the

serials is very welcome. There are even betterstories in preparation, as you will see.

W. SULLIVAN (Sydney, K . S . W . ) . — W e have a special

" Boy's Own Column " for such announcements as

yours. The price for insertion of notices is Gd. for

12 words and id . for each additional word. W e will

gladly print your request on these terms if you will

observe the conditions.

I N Q U I R E R . — " W h o Wins ? " by Rev. A. Allen Brock-

ington did not appear in the *' B.O.P." It ran

through part of vol. 2 6 (1904-5) of "Young

England."

COLLECTOR.—The " World-wide Emblem of Fraternal.

Goodwill," for philatelists, is supplied by Erringtonand Martin, South Hackney, K . B . It is in the*form of a watch-chain pendant.



480 The *Bojr f

s Otvn Taper.

PAT WANTED SOME.

W H I L E a drove of bullocks were being driven froman Irish village to a fair, one of t he animals sudden lystopped, and, notwithstanding all the efforts of thedrover, would not move on its way. A chemist whohappened to see the affair went up'to the bullock andinjected a drug down its throat, which had the effectof making the animal career rapidly down the street.

About five minutes afterwards the drover enteredthe chemist's shop, wiping the perspiration off hishead, and asked the man behind the counter if he wasthe party who gave the bullock the medicine.

" I am," said the chemist.

'* Well," said Pat excitedly, " I'll take a pennyworthof it—I've got to follow the baste 1 "

WELL SPENT.

IN a volume on India, by the H on. Robert Palmer,appears a cricketing story which may have been toldbefore, but is quite good enough to be repeated.

A clergyman, who was head-master of a nativeseminary, introduced cricket into his school to fostera manly spirit, and the boys got quite keen on it.Gradually he evolved a team and arranged a matchwith a neighbouring school. He told his team th atthey must work their hardest to win, and to encouragethem he gave them fifteen rupees to spend on new batsor whatever would be most useful.

When the day came the team turned out for thematch full of quiet confidence, but with all their oldaccoutrements.

" Why," asked the padre, " what h ave you donewith those fifteen rupees I gave you ? "

" Well, sir," replied the captain, " we thought it

best to spend it all on the umpire."They won.

BROUGHT ONE BACK.

T H E R E are many good stories about young fellowswho have gone " gunning " for bear and not achievedthe expected results. W e all know the yarn of thehunter who kept on the heels of his quarry until thetrail became " too thunderin' fresh " for him and wasconsequent ly abandone d. H ere is another equallygood.

Dave had been boasting for days of what he woulddo when th ey struck the woods—the boys' camp wasin the Adirondacks. When he sallied out after breakfast one day, therefore, with his Winchester slungover his back his chums reckoned on a big " bag. "

" It '11 be a cold day if I don't bring back a bearwith me," said Dave.

The others stayed in or near the camp and sawnothing more of Dave until about an hour beforesundown, when a cloud of dust some distance up the

trail suddenly resolved itself into their missing companion.

The dust-cloud was moving rapidly and hit thecamp like a cyclone a few minutes later.

M Hello ! Dave 1 " was the cry. " Where's thebear ? "

" I'm—bringing—him—back 1 " was the gaspingreply. " I—said—I—would ! "

And the youthful hunter passed through on hismad career, while in his wake there followed a very

ONLY ONE.

A LAUGHABLE story is told of Professor Agassiz,the great naturalist. It was a question whether ascientific man would make a good husband, but thisgreat scientist gave his wife no cause to complain.However, it was admitted that she had to put up withmany queer things.

One morning the professor's wife was putting onher boots. Her screams aroused her husband, who,not having risen, leaned forward anxiously on hiselbow to learn the cause. He inquired what was thematter.

" Why, a little snake has just crawled out of myboot! " cried she.

" Only one, m y dear ? " asked th e professor, calmlylying down aga in; " there should have been three.I put them there to keep them warm."

NOT SO BADLY OFF.

FOWL-FANCIERS will appreciate the following.A gentleman had ordered a consignment of a dozenBuff Orpingtons from a breeder, and a crate duly

arrived. Unfortunately, the messenger sent with

the fowls opened the crate too soon and allowed theinmate s to escape. All bu t two or three dispersedthemselves among neighbouring fowl-runs.

The luckless owner spent several hours retrievinghis treasures and eventually his fowl-house closed itsdoor on a collection of angry, cackling and flurriedBuff Orpington s. Then he wrote an indignant letter

to the breeder complaining of the careless way inwhich the birds had been delivered.

" Up to the present," he said, " I have managed to

get back ten of them."" You haven't done so badly," wrote the fowl-

dealer in reply, " I only s ent yo u eight in th at consignment ! "

merry heart

goes all

the day,

Your sad

tires in

a

mile-a."

(Shakespeare.)

OUR

PRIZE COMPETITIONAWARDS.

F O O T B A L L C O M P E T I T I O N .

(Continued from p. 4-18.)

No. 4 . — A Song of Football.

Prise Football Winner,

L. 0 . P. CHEVENS, 12 Marischal Road, Lee, S . E .

Consolation Prizes.

A. E . E A S T , Victoria House, Eirchingtoa, Kent;

AI . 0 . W A L K E K , 2 8 Park Road, Upper Baker Street,

Regent's Park, N .W . ; W. H. McNAIR, Myrtle

Bank, 1 13 Ilolmc Road, West Bridgtord, Notts.

Hon. Mention.

W. R. L. Fox (no address).

No. 5.—Hum orou s Verses : " Whe n Tubby

Kept Goal."

Prize Football Winner.

J O H N S. MITCHELL, 15 Lindum Terrace, Rotherham,

Yorkshire.

Consolation Prizes.

E D W A R D P. PO O L E , 2 0 Harlestone Road, St.

James's, Northampton; W. MUCKERSIE, Merleton,Dollar, Clackmannanshire; W. H. MONAIR, MyrtleBank, 14 3 Holme Road, West Bridgtord, Notts.;

W . SLAUGHTER, 7 7 New Street, Halstoad, Ess ex;EDWARD BOWDEN, 53 Chapel Street, Hazel Grove, near

Stockport.

Hon. Mention.

W I L L I A M K. TAYLOR, 3 3 Brooklands Road, Burnley ;W. E. BURROTTGH, CJewer HiM, Windsor; CECIL P .B A T 0 0 C K , Hillcroft, Colchester Terrace, Essex Road,

Leyton ; A L E X . W. THOMSON, Balbirnie, 4 0 OaklandsRoad, Bexley Heath, Kent.

No. 6. —Pen-and-ink Design for a

Pictorial Heading.


CHARLES E. M O X O N , 36 Daniel Hill, Upperthornc.

Sheffield.

Consolation Prizes.

A L A N H . CLEGG, 8 Durham Street, Albert Road,

Halifax; J O H N PLANT, 20 Hulme Street, Salford,

Manchester; A. MORRIS, 41 Marlborough Road,

Upper Holloway, N . ; F R E D PHILLIPS, 127 York Road,

Montpelier, Bristol.

Hon. Mention.

JAMES STIRLING, 30 Primrose Street, Ailoa.Scotland ;J. H . FLETCHER, 0 7 Clonmell Road. Philip Lane, South

Tottenham; W. G. M A C K I E , Willesdcne, Newlands,Glasgow; J . M I L L W O O D , 6 Chumleigh Street, AlbanyRoad, Camberwell, S.E.

No. 7. -Pen-and-ink Sketch of

Centre-Forward."

Our Heavy


ALAN H . CLEGG, 8 Durham Street, Albert Road,

Halifax.

Consolation Prizes.

WILFRED STANCOMBE, 3 Briercliife Road, Burnley •JOHN PLANT, 2 0 Hul me Street, Salford, Manchester-J A M E S STIRLING, 3 0 Primrose Street, A lloa, ScotlandWILLIAM HURTON, 1 3 Newdigate Road, Coventry -J. H. FLETCHER, 0 7 Clonmell Road, Philip Lane,

South Tottenham.

Hon. Mention.

CHARLES E . MOXON, 3 0 Daniel Hill, Upperthorpe

Sheffield; W. G. MACKIE, Willesdenc, Newlands

Glasgow; EDGAR A . L E W I S , 5 2 Pillebrook Road,

Leytonstone.

No. 8.—Pen-and-ink Sketch of scene :

" Well Collared, Sir ! »


WELLWOOD THOMPSON, 3 1 Albion Street, Leicester.

Consolation Prizes.

R. ADAMS, 7 Ravenstone Road, Stratford, E ;

ARTHUR J ON E S , Whitecliffc, Coleford, Gloucester.

Hon. Mention.

ALAN H. CLEGG, 8 Durham Street, Albert Road,Halifax; W I L F R E D STANCOMBE, 3 Briercliife Road,

Burnley : CHARLES E . M O X O N , 3 0 Daniel Hill, Upperth Sh ffi ld

Boys Own Paper 26th April 1913

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Transcript of Boys Own Paper 26th April 1913