2S
THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN, PORTLAND, JUNE 8, J902.
Unknown Ghosts and a Houseful of Girls
. THE TERRORS OF ONE SUMAfER AS RELATED
BY ONE OF THE TERRIFIED. ,BY R E. HOWSON
Y
fE made our ghosts' acquaint
ance In Australia, where Fath
er's business (he is a partner
In a bicycle firm) had taken him. Harry
and I and little Ike were delighted 'when
Father decided to take us and Mother
with him. Wo expected the elx months
we were to bo away from homo to be a
picnic, indeed, and we were not disap
pointed. I will pass Over the trip across the
continent from Cincinnati to San Fran
cisco; the long sea voyage, broken by
stays at Honolulu and Auckland; the few
happy days we spent In Sydney and Mel
bourne, and commence when we took
possession of the furnished house Father
rented for us at Maglll. five miles out
of Adelaide. He had to locate us camc
whero while he travoled round - doing
business, and chose Adplalde because his
college chum, Ralph 'Ingraham, was a
member of the Adelaide House of Assem
bly, having, alas! given up his nationality
and made his home in Australia, and
this house In particular, because It joined
the home of Mr. Ingraham, and we should
have the company of ills family, go would
not be lonesome in Father's absence.
The Ingraham family consisted of
father, mother, two sons, one at Cam
bridge University, England, being made
a genuine John Bull; the younger, Har
ry, was a, a boarding school in Mel
bourne; one daughter, Sara, a girl of my
age IS devoted to cricket, tennis, qycllng,
horseback riding and entirely free from,
nerves.
No sooner had we taken possession of
the fiouse than business called Father
away from His. He had been gone but jl
few days when a telegram summoned
Mother to join him in Melbourne; he had
been seized with an attack of sciatica,
and could not got along without her.
She departed by the next train, leaving
us to the care of the Ingrahams and the
good-natured Irish woman who had con
sented to run our domestic machine.
"Shure, mom, ye needn't be feared to
lave the childer with me. I'll take good
care of the bhoy and kapc the men folk
from runnln off with the young ladies,
bless their pretty eyes," she had said
to Mother.
Our troubles wore not long in com
mencing, and Biddy, notwithstanding her
line promisee, proved but a poor ally,
but of that more later. I will now de
scribe the house.
It stood in the centor of a large or
chard and was a wide ono-story brick
building with a veranda on every side.
Thi veranda was raised about two feet
from the ground and was carefully board
ed round, concealing the foundation of the
house. When we took possession the
bell rope was broken, and as Father
had to leave so hurriedly, and It was dif
ficult to get a man 00 far out of town, It
remained unmended.
The evening Mother left there was a
resounding pcal from the bell; forget
ting that the rope was broken, and thlnk
Irg that Sara Ingraham and one of her
toy chums had como over to cheer our
loneliness. I ran to open the door. The
voids of eager welcome died on my lips,
for no one was to be seen. Thinking
Sara was trying to play a trick on me, I
ran round the veranda, expecting to And
her hiding In some corner. No one was
there. Then I remembered the broken
bell rope, and returned to the house,
puzzlod and nervous. Harrie laughed at
my fears, and Biddy declared that one
of us "childer" had rung the bell.
That night when I went to put 4-year-old
Ike to bed. the little fellow said,
"Why is it, Jennie, that when you go out
the washstand lifts up its leg and
knocks V
"Nonsense, Ikey; a washstand couldn't
do that."
"Woll, it must have been the bureau,
then. There it goes again" He sprang
up In bed. and clung tightly to my neck.
Tee, sure enough, there was a sound
of knocking. Again thinking it must be
Sara, I opened one of the Fiench win
dows, only to be disappointed and puz
zled once more.
"And something squeals, too," said
Ikey. "Last night I thought Biddy's
sister must have left her baby, and it
was cryin'. I asked Biddy, and she
bald: 'Shure, an it was a dhrame, child;
nlver a baby did me sister lave at all,
at all.' "
Scarcely were the words out of the
child's mouth than a piteous walling
commenced followed by the most ghoul
ish, horrible muttering I have ever list
ened to. This lasted for about three min
utes, during which Ikej' clung so closely
to my neck that he nearly choked me.
"Don't leave me alone, Jennie," he
pleaded; "I'm so scared."
I wrapped him In a blanket and car
ried him across the hall to the parlor,
where Harrie, who was lying on tho sofa
reading a book, received our story with
derision. She went into the bedroom a
few minutes later for a box of candy, and
returned with a frightened face, refus
ing, however, to say what had scared
her. While Ikey 6iept we girls sat
tremblingly expectant for hours. No
ghosts appeared again that night, how
ever, but from that time forward they
gave us little peace.
They were worst in our bedroom, but
could be heard In other parts of the
house also. Mysterious knocklngs, hor
rible cries, piteous heart-breaking wait
ings and sobbings, fiendish gurgles of
suppressed laughter, ghoulish mutterlngs
made rest an impossibility. Hushed foot
steps sounded down the long passages;
often have I sat up In bed breathlessly
listening while the stealthy footfalls camo
slowly down the hall and paused at the
door. At other times the footsteps ap
peared to be In our room. They would
pause beside the bed and Harrie and I
would lie trembling, hot. daring to open
our eyes lest some awe-lnsplring form
should meet our gaze. Then would fol
low a horrible, fiendish, smothered yell,
and we would cover our heads with the
bedclothes and He sweltering through the
hot Summer night praying for morning
to dawn.
One night when our tormentors had
been unusually quiet and we hd fallen
into the deep alcep of exhaustion, Harrie
was awakened by a soft knocking, seem
ingly on the glass of the French window.
Forgetting the ghosts and thinking
Father bad come home unexpectedly, she
sprang out of bed and opened the window.
No one was there. Hastily bolting the
window, she crept back to bed, and
was awakened by her clinging to mo sob
bing as smothered peals of ghoulish,
mocking laughter sounded through the
room. Ofton the ball would ring without
cause. About midnight one Sunday there
was a sounding peal which made the
whole house ring and brought Biddy from
her distant room off the kitchen her
room and theikltohen were additions to
the house, and must have been built much
later than the original structure She
was angry, and would not believe we were
not playing a "thrlck" on her. When
we told her of the ghosts she laughed,
and said:
"Shure, It's dhramin' ye are. Amerl
kins ought to have more 6lnse."
In an unlucky hour, thinking she would
bo some protoctlon. we Invited Biddy to
spend a night in our room. The ghosts'
were even more lively than usual that
evening, and not all Biddy's Ave Marias
and Pater Nosters would exorcise them.
"Shure. Vho dlvll himself Is in the
house," she said, "andawful bould the
ould glntlemen's gettln', for he laughs
in tho mfddle of me prayhV."
One night in our room was enough for
Biddy; she even talked of leaving us,
but on our beseeching her to remain and
reminding her of her promise to Mother,
she consented to stay if she was not
asked to go into any part of the house
but the dining-room. To this we agreod.
We thought of deserting tho house In a
body, migrating to Biddy's room, and
living In that and the kitchen, but came
tq the conclusion that Biddy's room was
too small for four people, so abandoned
the Idea. Biddy, however. Insisted on
taking Ike's cot Into her room.
Numberless were the discussions we had
with the Irish woman as to the cause of
the house being haunted.
"Shure and those wicked convicts must
have been up to their thrlcks here. Many's
the tolme I've listened to stories of how
those men would escape from prison, run
wild In the hills, catch the eettlers, and
aftficr tormentln thlm, roast thlra In bul
lock hides."
"But. Biddy," said Harrie. who was of a
studious and inquiring turn of mind,
"South Australia was never a convict col
ony. There were never convicts here."
"Well," answered Biddy, "thin It must
av been tho natives. Shure the black crit
ters used to kill the white men and roast
and eat them. Before Ivor this house was
built they've had a feed of man's flesh on
the very slto of It, and now the spal
peens, beln' dead, com back to enjoy
their wicked deeds, the owld gintleman
wld them, bad cess to him."
Here the Irishwoman crossed herself
and looked fearfully over her shoulder.
"But, Biddy," said Ike, lifting his great
Inquiring eyes to her face, "how do you
know It's the blacks?"
"Shure and it must be the blacks, for
though they growl and yell and mutter
all night nlver a word If their lingo can
ye make out. The moanln and cryin' Is
from the poor critters waltln' to be
cooked. There's a child among them, and
one's an Irishman, for didn't I hear him
wld me own ears cryin' 'Ohonel Ohone!'
God rest his sowl. but little he's likely to
rest knowin' his body's In the stomach of
one of those black critters."
I tried to broach the subject of our
nightly visitants to Sara Ingraham, but
the mere mention of the word "ghosts"
brought a pitying and superior smile to
the sun-browned face of that athletic
maid.
"And do Americans still believe in
ghosts?" she asked, with a supercilious
lifting of her black eyebrowF. "We Aus
tralians don't. Ghost stories are Old
World fables. Don't .let Biddy stuff you
with her Irish fairy talc."
I wished I might have tested her In
credulity and courage by making her
spend a night, with us, but doubtless
she would have snored through our noc
turnal visitors? orgies, and laughed at us
next day.
Mother had now been away ten days,
and though Harrie and I were getting
quite worn out with terror and want of
sleep, we did not like to send for her to
tcome back. To telegraph that the house
was haunted seemed so silly. Our one
hope was :n Harry Ingraham, who was
expected home for tho Christmas holidays.
He was a boy, and so would be more
sympathetic to us girls than his sister,
and of course he would not be scared
evon by ghosts. On the appointed day
he arrived, and In the evening ran In to
make our acquaintance. He was as lively,
handsome and nice aB we expected, and
he, I, and Harrie were soon fast friends.
Tho spirits were quiet for n day or two
after ho came, so we did not mention them
to him. On tho fourth night after his
return, however, they carried on so ter
ribly that we could not sleep a wink,
and going out to the henhouse next morn
ing to feed the chickens, we found eight
of our best laying hens lying dead, with
out a wound on their bodies or any sign
to show by what manner they had come
to their death.
"It's as plain as daylight," said Biddy,
as she sorrowfully viewed the feathered
victims, "this Is the work of the frhosts.
The black spalpeens made believe the
chickens were white folk. If ye don t
shift out of this haunted house, ye poor
children, ye'll be kilt lolko the chickens."
This was not consoling, and we deter
mined to tell our troubles to Harry at
the first opportunity. He came over that
evening, and had scarcely seated himself
when our enemies commenced. At the
first sound Harry exclaimed:
"Ca " then seeing our frightened faces,
he quickly interrupted himself, crylnsr In
stead: "Rats, alligators, crocodiles! what's
that?"
Then we told our story. Though there
was a merry twinkle in his nye and he
threw himself back In his chair now-and
again with a smothered guffaw, I am
happy to say he did not laugh.
"And. oh, Hal," said our Harrie, "the
poor chickens! Do you think the ghosts
really killed them?"
"Think? I don't think at all about It.
I know they killed them. Never mind,
girls; to to bed, sleep woll, and leavo
everything to me. I'll warrant the ghosts
won't trouble you much more. Can I
have the little veranda room? I'd like to
sleep here tonight."
"Of course." we both cried, glad to
have anything in the shape of a man
within call.
"Well, I guess I'll tell mother. Good
night, girls." '
He made such a wry face as be went
out of the door that I thought he must
be 111, and followed him Into the garden.
He disappeared among the trees, but I
found him rolling over on the grass plot
In such paroxysms that I felt sure he
had a fit. Going close, I found ho was
laughing so that the tears rolled down
his cheeks.
"Harry!" I cried. Indignantly.
"Oh, Jennie. I have so wanted to see a
live ghost. You can't tell how merry and
glad It makes me feel to think I am to
have my wish. If you are a good little
girl and go to bed now you shall see one
yourself tomorrow," and, jumping up, he
ran off to his own home.
Whether It was that the ghosts really
did give us a rest or that the sense of
having a protector near eased our nerves,
certain It Is that Harrie and I slept dream
lessly that night, and when we awoke next
morning the ""sun was shining Into our
room and the birds carolling gaily with
out. Just as we finished dressing Harry,
who said he had been se'eral times to
the door to listen for a sound, knocked
boldly at the French window. As I opened
It and stepped out on the veranda, I heard
a curious, harsh growling, and Harry,
with a theatrical wave of his hand, cried:
"Behold the spirits of the black canni
bals!" In a large wire trap placed In front of
a hole In the boarding below the veranda
were four lithe, felinely graceful little
animals, yellow In color, spotted with
white. They were smaller than domestic
cats and of a different form.
"They never It Isn't possible that these
little animals made those awful noises!"
cried Harrie and I in one breath.
"But they did and killed the chickens
Into the bargain, by just planting their
teeth in the poor things' necks and suck
ing their blood. The teeth marks were
so small that you did not notice them."
He led the way round the house. There
had been two holes In tho boarding; he
had made two more. At each of these
holes he had placed a trap, and in each
trap were some of the little beasts two
In one and three In the others.
"But," I cried, "the bell ringing, the
knocking and the soft footsteps?"
"The wildcats are responsible for those
sounds also. The bell wire goes under the
floor; though it Is broken at the door, it
Is tight under the house. "See," he said
throwing himself on the ground and mak-
1 Ing me 6toop to look Into one of the
holes, "the foundation Is low, tho house Is
raised but a little above tho jrround. Tho
cats have caught the wire in their paws J
and rung the bell. The knocking was
caused by the bones they were gnawing
striking against the floor, and the stealthy
icoisieps weu, x. iouna a aoie uic gnosis
had made In one of the unoccupied rooms;
through this they came Into the house,
and you heard them pattering down the
passages. Biddy did npt hear them be
cause her room Is an addition to the
house, and being raised very slightly from
the ground, the cats could find no harbor
under It."
At that moment Biddy Joined the group
around the cages.
"And is it cats ye call them bastes?"
asked she, "It's dlvlls they arc; see the
evil eyes of thorn! The big one that
switches his tall and bites tho little ones
when they get Jn his way Is the ould gin
tleman himself."
Harry laughed.
"Shure. can't he take tho form of a
How
!r&&3Y,rVcC0TAnr.Y
CUM. LETS CO SHOO ,ING I
HEN a man says he Is a trapper the
hearer thinks Instinctively of beav
ers and otters, but tho fact Is that tho
beaver Is practically extinct In the United
States and otters are too scarce every
where to make pursuit of them profitable.
Trappers in the North are now gener
ally In search of mink, skunks and musk
rate; Jn the South and Southwest they
are coon trappers. There are many men
who make livings good enough for them
by catching coons in the wilder parts of
the South, mainly along tho iower
Mississippi River and its confluents.
The coon trapper leads a life that to
him Is Ideal and It would not be disagree
able for a while to civilized men having
a tasto for outdoors. He lives generally
within 10 miles of a store at which ho
can trade bis skins for meal, bacon, cof
fee, ammunition and whisky.
Often for months at a stretch his- con
verse with human beings Is confined to
his dickers with the storekeepers. Ho
lives In a cabin If he can find one conve
niently placed that has been deserted, or
has the industry to build one; oftcner he
rn 1 .1 " ' 1 F
lar&rvcCOTAnr.Y
clHt LETa CO SHbOUNCk f f
r ' . " ' t e '" .I 1 I. 1 1 f . . j
I eOON TRAPPING
THE DOROTHY BROWN PAINT PICTURES
r "" i - iiiuux rarimn j
BorolhyJl&mires tj2Couraseo Dotcfe Cl2idrxi2
VH. DOROTHY AND REGGIE IN HOLLAND
From France the children went to view the land of dike and wooden shoe
A land that hide behind a wall for fear the eca would nwalloir all.
"" - And this Is true. Indeed; the sea Is ever watching hunprily.
' Dearly 'twould like to rise seme night and swallow Holland out of lcht.
In Holland children are sedate and walk & quiet, proper rait.
And Jhat is quickly understood, when one denotes their shoes of wood.
Windmills and tultps everywhere made Dorothy and Bessie stare.
They looked with all their eyea. They knew It was the last thine they could view
Before they took a home-bound ship, for 'twas the ending of their trip. ""
Paint windmills white with roofs of red; the sky a light blue overhead.
Please paint the Dutch child's cap In blue; Its sown Is of a dark blue, too.t
The boy's shirt paint in drab and blue; his trousers in a soft brown hue.
Sweet Dorothy wore sold and blue; Reggie wore sarmenta gray in hue. '
i
basto It it -phizes b!m?" cried BJddy, in
dignantly. "Well, Biddy," said Harry, "the 'ould
gintleman and his crew had better pre
pare themselves, for their youls will bo
back In Hades tonight. Their skins would
make a nice mat for your feet, girls
serve, too, as a souvenir of -your ghosts."
"Shure, bad luck will come to ye If ye
kill the critters. The ould gintleman at
least ye might lave."
"Well, If you feel so badly about his
death, Biddy. I'll let you have Satan for
a pelbut lfce. skins ot the others I must
havo."
There is little more to tclL Vhe ghosts
being laid for they troubled us no more
we gave all our attention to having- a
good time, in which Harry, who left
school, and entered his father's office,
greatly assisted us. Perclval came home
from England a genuine B. A., and except
for a Cambridge accent and a few Angli
cisms.' which Harrie and I set ourselves
tho task of eradicating, he was worthy
of his American descent.
I am back In our home in Cincinnati
now at this moment at my writing table,
my feet on the skins of our "ghosts" but
I'm afraid I won't be here for long unless
I can make an American of Perclval. He
writes that he Is having the haunted
house renovated and newly furnished, and
that he la coming for me by the next
steamer, leaving Biddy and tho "ould gin
tleman" In charge of our future home.
As to the. Harries they can tell' their
own story.
for a, lorvcs time I ceroid not tell
growrv - yps knew our ways
ooivervowoir secrets seem To lie
Vide open to the growrv-up eye ;
1 ve fcLsked so rrfoxvy all about
How tkey Vd iome to f irvd it out
Arwd tKeJA would -answer , yli know
A little jair die toldrrie so'T
a
I tkoxgkt first iKeyere "fo3irg me ,
ButiNowedKbi: 1 clea.'cjy' see
Xke birds sit atfte wires: Kigk
Ard jryscyr our secret words gotjy.
x
has a ragged tent; often he lives under a
lean-to of boughs which keep out the
rain only Indifferently.
Every coon trapper has a mongrel dog
and a muzzle-loading rifle. The dog
hunts coonfi when the man Is on his
round?, trees them and announces success
by barking In a certain manner, and then
the coon Is shot. The trapper will get
one-fourth of his coons In this way.
Despite tho war waged against them
these animals do not seem to decrease.
They are gone in large measure from the
settled regions, but the vast, damp, wood
ed areas afford them much protection,
and they are fecund,
Tho coon trapper, if ho let whisky
alone, can amass a sum that would be
Independence to him by the time ho Is
40. His clothes cost him next to nothing;
he pays no rent or taxes; he owns no
master; his living expenses are possibly
20 cents a day; coon skins are worth
from 20 to 0 cents apiece, according
to their size, color and condition; it of
ten happens that he will take four or
five skins in a day; if skilful and Indus
trious he can catch fifty coons a month.
Whatever he makes he is nearly so much
- - - - - - - . T - T r r. T1TT-n.-rj.(r
Tick Went Away and How He Came Back
, TRUE STORY OF A COCKER SPANIEL AND
THE FIDELITY OF HIS YOUNG FRIENDS ' .
ABOUT a year ago there appeared
.at tho door of a hoiise up In
Pleasant avenue an intelligent
faced black cocker spaniel, whose affec
tionate manners and excellent deportment
gave rise to the suspicion that he was the
prodigal canine pet of some one who was
at that moment bemoaning- his abeence.
Whatever ho had been. Tick became at
once the Idol of the three children into
whose family he had strayed. Every child
in the block snd around the corner, as
well, scon became devoted to the little
black fellow, who could play hide and
seek with all the vim of any boy or girl,
ind whose -ability to catch a ball caused
him to bo frequently pressed into service
when a gamo was on.
The grown-ups. too, save one grumpy
old man In the flat at the corner, wbre
well-nigh as enthusiastic over his cunning
ways. The butcner always had a bit of
h
so well, j
ahead; ho is, in fact, better off than
many a city man who earns and gets $2000
a year.
Coon traps are the ordinary spring
trap with a round disk of iron, pressure
upon which releases the spring. The
bait Is attached to this or near it "by
some huqters; others fasten the bait en
tirely separate, so placing it that the ani
mal must step upon tho trap In order to
reach It.
The machines are almost hair-triggered.
They are placed commonly on the edges
of streams, where tracks show that tho
coons have been fishing, or at the ends
) of logs which cross streams, the bark
showing the marks of claws.
The bait used Is sometimes fresh neat,
sometimes bacon, often a bit of mussel
meat, that being the Southern term for
the flesh of the fresh-water clam. Fish
Is highly attractive to the coon, as Is old
cheese
The full-grown coon will give almost
any single dog a handsome argument and
lights with desperation when escape Is
totally barred. If the trapper had sport
ing blood in him he would use an axe
when the game was treed and witness a
"battle royal, but using an ax on an oak
hackberry, ash or pine means work.
a
, n m m m m m n M
H008AY ! WE WONT
meat laid by for him. and the baker
would feel that he had neglected some
special duty if he had not saved a bun
or cake for the little fellow.
Tick felt his Importance and was great
ly chagrined when 'the grumpy old man
would "shoo" him off with his stick when
he went toward him on the street or
throw atones, at him when he Jauntily
trotted up the steps of his house. This
conduct On the old manjs part was not
productive of good manners on Tick's
side. Ho would bark furiously and give
every indication of a desire to bite the
old man's legs. Therefore, it was not sur
prising that the Society, for the Preven
tion of Cruelty to Animals was Informed
one day that there was a vicious black
dog without a license running at largo
on Pleasant avenue.
One morning tho dogcatchers wagon
appeared on the block where Tick was
wanaerlng happily up and down, and
Vhen tho children camo home from
school they learned that their pet had
been captured. Never had there been
such weeping; never such indignation.
Not only wero Effle, Johnny and Hal
bowed down with grief, but every child
friend of the little canine captive felt
that woe too deep for utterance had set
tled upon the community. Such a trag
edy called for immediate action. Some
one told them that Tick could be re
covered for $2. But J2 was a sum far
beyond 'the resources of Tick's little
owners. Papa and mamma needed every
penny to buy shoes and clothes for Effle,
Jack and Hal, and there was no chance
of getting such a tremendous sum aa $2
from the slim .pocketbook mamma had
so .frequently to open for tho baker, tho
butcher and tho landlord.
A sorrowful group gathered at the
lamp-post Saturday morning, and tho
awful catastrophe was dlscusccd in tho
most excited manner. Finally, a plan
presented itself, upon which they Im
mediately proceeded to act. A public
subscription was at once started, and
every one (save tho grumpy old man)
who knew the little dog was importuned
to contribute to the fund for Tick's re
lease. The baker and the butcher each
gave 10 cents. A. little girl whose father
was a policeman dared the parental Ire
by waking him from his sleep to tell him
of the sad case, and secured a quarter,
even though he did not seem to be very
HOW BOBBIE PREVENTED
A PANIC
5A ISS Winston opened the door of the
AV first grade room one Monday in an
swer to a faint rap on the outside, to And
a slim, white-faced boy standing there.
"Good morning," said the teacher, pleas
antly. The boy glanced up timidly, then drop
ped his eyes again, and the color came
and went in. his cheeks.
"You are a new pupil, I believe," Miss
Winston said, adding, as he nodded his
head, "I think you are too old to join my
little folk."
"I'm only 9. I've been sick." The boy's
.lips quivered and his cheeks grew redder
than before.
Miss Winston dropped her hand lightly
upon the boy's shoulder and drew him
into the room.
"Will you take thisseat until recess?"
she asked. "And what Is your name,
dear?"
"Robbie Barbour."
The next day Robbie was accompanied
by hlsmother, who remained after les
sons were over to speak tp Miss Winston.
"Robbie's sickness has kept him indoors
so long that be Is shy about mingling
with other boys," Mrs. Barbour said to
tho teacher.
"Ho is a dear little lad, very obedient
and attentive," Mlsa Winston replied. "I
am sure he will outgrow his shyness."
But In the beginning, going to school
was a dreadful trial to poor Robbie. If
another boy looked at him he turned
away. If a girl spoke to him, he answer
ed, because he was always polite, but it
was In a low voice and always with the
tell-tale color coming and going In his
face.
"He's a girl-boy. He don't know nuf
fin' what ho ought to know," said Billy
Tcmpleton scornfully. Billy was short
and sturdy and had a big brother who
played ball with, him and showed him how
"to do things." And then Billy added:
"I'm brave. I ain't afraid of nuffln' like
what Robbie is."
Robbie heard all this and held his head
CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF
DANIEL BOONE
ON the first day of January, 1T78, Boone
went with a party of 30 men, to make
salt at Blue Licks, on Licking River.
In the account of what happened after
ward the Kentucky hunter says:
"On February 7, as I was hunting to
procure meat for the company, I saw a
party of 102 Indians. They pursued and
took me and brought me back to the
licks, where 27 men were still, three hav
ing returned home with the salt. I,
knowing it was impossible for any men
to escape, gave them notice at a dis
tance, and ordered them not to resist, but
to surrender themselves captives.
"We proceeded as prisoners to old Chll
licothe, the principal Indian town on Lit
tle Miami. During our travels the In
dians entertained us well, and their affec
tion for us was so great that they ut
terly refused to leave me In captivity
to tho British, a3 they left my men.
"At Chilllcothe I was adopted, accord
ing to Indian custom, Into a family as a
son, and had a great share of the affec
tion of my new parents and brothers
and sisters.
"I was exceedingly familiar and friendly
with tho Indians, and because I appeared
cheerful and satisfied they put great
HOW A SPIDER HANGS IN
ITS, WEB
Jli OST spiders build wonderful traps or
A homes of fino spun web. These web3
are stretched In all kinds of places. Out
In the fields they almost canpet the
grasses and weeds with a spread Intended
to catch the teeming Insect life. They
aro thrown across the roadways and In
the open glades In the woodland.
Every one has seen tho great round,
fat bodies of the spiders as they hang
motionless In the center of these large cir
cular webs. Every child has seen the
black and gold fellows which make, huge
scrawling lines of white across the webs
In the garden corners and among the
graperines. The children call them
"writing spider?"; and really the white
lines bear a close resemblance to hand
writing when viewed at a short distance.
Every student and observer In nature
soon learns that the spider remains In
the center of the web that it may feel
the sllgbest motion caused by any luck
less Insect which has been caught in the
pleased at being roused from hl3 first
nap after a long all-night beat. Tho
huckster, the tcemah. the janitor, ti e
kind-hearted doctor, the cigar-store m'n
all gave something, while the children
themselves scraped together as many
pennies as they could until the much
desired $2 limit was reached.
"With the pennies, nickels and dimes
tied In a handkerchief, they started for
the Shelter, over on the East River; but.
alas, on reaching there, discovered that
$3 instead of ?2 was needed to bring Tick
back with them. It was a sad little
procession that wended Its way up Pleas
ant avenue, but It was a determined one.
The Immediate vicinity of Tick's former
residence having been thoroughly can
vassed, they decided to branch out into
more distant quarters, and. ringing every
doorbell, state their case, and perhaps
enough pennies could bo begged to mako
up the other $1. In every house where
there were children the greatest Interest
In the project was shown. By 3 o'clock,
when they had at last secured the $3, tho
rescuing party consisted of about 50 lit
tle folks, each, of whom, having con
tributed toward 'the captive's release, felt
that Tick was partly his or her personal
property.
The man at the shelter laughed as ho
counted out the money, and then, going
Into an Inner room whero there wero
scores of dogs and cats, opened the door
and led Tiqk out. With a rush he threw
himself rapturously on every one of tho
children in turn, licking Effle'3 faco with,
canine ecstacy and barking and capering
so wildly that all the dogs inside wlia
were not so fortunate set up a dismal
howl until the din was deafening. Then
the triumphal homeward-bound proces
sion started. The people at the windows
along the avenue gazed in wonder at tho
crowd, asking their neighbors what tho
commotion was all about. The baker and
Ihe butcher had to come out Into the
street to pat tho returned wanderer. Tho
policeman, who was just going out on
duty, thought something needing his
presence was going on until he beheld tho
small black dog capering so joyously In
the midst of his admirers. The grumpy
old man who was curious to know what
was the cause of the excitement bangtd
down his window and was not seen on
the street again for a day. "When ho
did coma out he made a "pass" at Tick
with, his cane, but the little fellow failed
to resent It, for what did one old man a
animosity count to him, "the dog of tho
commonwealth?"
down to hide tho tears the words brought
to his eyes. Neither Billy nor the rest
of the boys knew how Robbie longed wltU
all his aching little heart to join In their
games. Once he entered the yard mean
ing to ask Billy to let him, then his heart
began going plttcr-pat, and away he crept
with flushed cheeks and shining, longing
eyes.
There was one thing that Robbie couM
do that Billy could not. Robbie playcJ
the piano wonderfully well for a boy of
hia ypars. He loved music. It was a
very happy moment for him when Misa
Winston asked him one morning to play
a march Mlsa Dlbb, who usually playcl
while the children marched In or out, was
absent.
Robbie had been attending school three
months, when one afternoon a fire engir-3
dashed around the corner of the building.
Immediately afterward a mischevious boy
ran through the hall, crying "Fire I" as
he went. Instantly Miss Winston's pu
pils were on their feet, making a wild
rush for the door.
"Children 1 You must go out qulotly."
Mlsa Wlnston3 quiet voice calmed them.
But only for a moment. Brave Billy Tcm
pleton shrieked at the top of his voire,
and In his haste to escape knocked a boy
down. Othera fell over him and crl.-d
out in terror. The girls clung to Miss
Winston and begged her to save them.
At this moment of confusion Robbie Bar
bour made his- way to the piano. There
was a pause, and then the stirring
strains of "Marching Through Georgia"
filled the room.
"Children'. Get In line. March out,"
The command came In Miss Winston's
firmest tones.
Three minutes later the room was empty
and the children were standing In trem
bling groups In tho yard. There had been
no damage from fire. But there had been
danger from trampling one upon another.
And It was Robbie who had saved
them! After this It wag not so hard for
him to overcome his shyness, for the boys
could not do enough. It seemed, to make
him feel one of them. That was their
way of showing what they thought of hl3
bravery. MARIE DEACON HANSON.
confidence in me. Often I went hunting
with them, and frequently gained their
applause for my activity at our shoot
ing matches. I was careful not to exceed
many of them In shooting, for none aro
more envious than they In this sport.
They showed in their countenances and
gestures the greatest joy when they ex
ceeded mc, and when they failed envj
was evident. I slept and ate with them.
"Finally, in June, I began to plan an
escape. Early in that month they took
me to some salt springs and kept mo
thefe making salt for 10 days. During
this time I also hunted some for them.
When I returned to Chilllcothe I was
alarmed to see 450 warriors painted and
armed in a fearful manner.
"I determined to escape. On tho 16th,
before sunrise, I crept away in the most
secret manner, and after a journey of
160 miles arrived at Boonsborough on tho
20th. During my journey I had but one
meal.
"I found our fortress in a bad stato
of defense. We fell to work, and at
length, after 10 days, our repairs were
completed. We dally expected the at
tacking Indians. But a prisoner -rfhom
they had taken, and who escaped, told
us their expedition against our fortress
was delayed three weeks by my secret
running away that June morning."
sticky substance. Now, If one will look
closely at the spider he will see that it
hangs head downward.
Ones day, by suddenly .frightening a
spider, a man learned tho secret of Its
constant position upside down In the web.
It dropped head down and stopped when
about half way to the ground and swung
slowly to and fro from the end of a long
thread of web. If it had been head up
In the web it would have turned a somer
sault and the web would have been broken.
After the spider had .swung at the end of
Its web for some time It thought all danger
had passed, and turned and climbed up
again. It rolled the web thread up witn its
forelegs, and then threw It to the ground.
This was evidently done to keep it from
becoming entagled with any of the web
proper or with grass or weeds near by.
Any one who has touched a web knows
that it Is sticky and hard to ravel when
once tangled. Certainly this bit of In
stinct Is not absent from the spider's
brain.
"