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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (Oct. 21, 1906)
THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAX, PORTLAND, OCTOBER 21, 1SHKJ. 4? CDavehpoirt jt t THE n T7" i ' I ?i " ..-'- ' 1 1 I . . I LK - ' - ; I - - . 1V ' - J? - . - If? ' X . - - . - "A l -- i ; ' " ? . i T - 4 . rv" t i HOSIER DAVENPORT. Hom?r Davenport haa recently returned f torn Turkey, whore he was aent by the Woman's Home Companion, to write and Illustrate a. arios of articles on the Arabian horse and hts history. The illustrations published on this paj;e are used by pefmis lou of the Woman's Home Companion.) Up. lad; thews that lie and cumber Punlit pallets r.evor thrive; Morns abed and dayllRht slumber Were nyt meant for men alive. Clay lies still, but blood's a rover; Breath's a ware that will not keep. Vj lad; when the journey's over There'll be time enough to Bleep. 3. A. HOUSEMAN. THIS bolng the ptory of how three North American giants Invaded the Arabian desert alone and extended the right hnnrt of fellowship to Akmut Hafiz. the oracle of all the Arabs. It is worth while to note the spirit as well as the facts of their adventure, says the New York Times. In the world at large they do not wear their hearts on their sleeves, and bo are known usually as Charles A. Moore, Jr., 6 foot 3; John II. Thompson, Jr., 6 foot 2i, and Homer Davenport, 6 foot 1; but, thanks to the great Allah of the desert, who In his mercy has spared them from the Jaws of the hyena, and the great wis dom of Akmut Hafiz, the seer of the Bedouins, there ,1s a fullness of knowl edge In them now that passeth the un derstanding of the brotherhood of towns men. They left New York on July 6, and those who knew anything about the Oriental moods of the sun wondered, for even the Arab prays to the east as the burning sun pinks behind him In the west. But what's a warning to a man "just aching to be a hero'? The last words are quoted, as they ahould b for they express the principle of the whole trip, and they were uttered by the oldest of the three. By the time they reached Constantinople to one another they wore Arthur and Jack and Homer whatever else they were or hod been or were to be was as absurd a any Turkish spy they might meet. "What Columbus had done in 1492 gave them an assurance in strange lands that even the Sultan himself appreciated when the State Department at Washington had pointed it out to him. No ordinary pioneers wore thee . three giants from the red man's country, for in the Inside pocket of his reefer Homer Davenport carried a small bit of white pasteboard requesting the. utmost consideration for himself and hU friends in the name of the great white chief, Theodore Roose velt. When later this samo ecrap of writing was put into the hands of Sheyhk Hashlra Bey. Chief of the Bedouins, in the rUthy, pestilential little town of Aleppo, he held it in his trembling ha nils, and, looking up to the sky. murmured a nonpolitical prayer of Mohammed's, and then bowed his head in reverence over the little doc ument. The start for the desert from Constan tinople was delayed, for it was necessary to secure permission from the Sultan to purchase some Arab horses from the Annza tribes in the cVert. which Homer Davenport, the horsoman of the party, declared to be the object of their jour ney thither. It was here that one of the three, being enamored of the frisky Turks, formed such closo fellowship with two natice beys that the remaining two chrUtened one All Bey and the other Oyster Bey. Perhaps the same Arab blood that is in men of many races, that sends them wandering about the earth, was in the hearts of these two, and they regretted thi affinity of one of them for Turkish kind. It was not until after they had left Constantinople and all her luxuries be hind that Homer, scenting approach to the desert, unfolded this theory to the others, for, though born in Oregon, he declared himself by .temperament an Arab, and taking Joy in the belief, announced that there wore other Bedouin souLs among his friends In America. To be eure, this was before they had spent the three or four days and nights of horror between 9eandaroon and Aleppo, an experience which almost eclipsed all practical zest, to say nothing of the po etic enthusiasm of the trip. An officious Turkish spy undertook to question their passports, and temporarily took their guns away. Pending an official adjustment of their difficulty, they were obliged to camp by the wayside, tormented by overgrown vermin, with insufficient food, surrounded by face of alien beings speechless and mysteriously menacing to them. An in erpreter only seemed to emphasize- their complete remoteness from the world as they knew it. All three agree that this was the most discouraging period of their adventure, wih tho exception, perhaps, of their failure to get a snapshot of the Bultan of Constantinople, whom they saw at close range, and whom Homer Davenport de scribed as resembling a cross between Senator Dingier and Mr. Oscar Straus. No photograph of the Sultan has ever been seen, the one that usually passes for him being that of his brother. Finally the overzealous Turkish spy, having been properly rebuked by his gov ernment, returned the arms he had de tained, and the three Americans reached Aleppo, where there was a Syrian hotel. This place, situated on the edge of the desert of Arabia, had no Board of Health, and the consequences of this oversight were almost unprintable. The streets were so narrow that when camels met it was impossible to pass, and one or the other had to back up to the nearest cor ner. Mangy dogs were everywhere, and every native had the Aleppo "button' on the side of his face, a scar that marked a sore. It was here that the actual perplexities of the proposed Journey into the desert occurred. To strike out into the Bedouin country without a guide was impossible, and even then the danger of going without an es cort of soldiers waa freely described to the Americans. It has been the custom of foreign gov ernments to buy horses from the Arabs in the desert, but these expeditions were always conducted with the aid of soldiers. From the first, however. Homer Dav enport objected to this, trusting to his faith in the' American methods of arbitra tionand Theodore Roosevelt. While visiting the bazaars, where some purchases were made, the Arab from Ore gon was always on the lookout for his kinsmen, the true Arabs of the desert. He was able to pick these out from the other Orientals by the wild daring of their countenances, by a certain distinction of manner and bearing. One of these, whom he approached by chanco in vthe street, informed him of Akmut Hailz, the diplomat of the desert, and told him also that Hashim Bey, the chief of the great Anaza tribe, was then in Aleppo. "Show him to me!" said the man from Oregon, and they went at once to the house of the wise man, whom every Be douin knows and respects. He lived very modestly for his dis tinguished celebrity in a native house, where the horses were stabled In the parlor, and the livlny-room was up stairs. This room in which the -oracle of the Bedouin tribe received Homer Davenport and his companions was a large apartment, with red plush divans edging its walls. The surprising thing about it to the Americans were the guns and arms to be seen lying about in a country where arms are forbid den to any one but the soldiers. After a little while Akmut HafU appeared. "With stately dignity he walked slowly- into the room. Ac cording to Arab custom, he bowed low to the floor, and then stepping for ward gave each one a hearty hand shake. If Grover Cleveland were to put on the Bedouin costume he would look ex actly like AJtmut Hans, the interme diary between Sheyhk Hashim Bey, Chief of the Anazas, and the Turkish government. Although, to the Americans. Hafiz seemed to be a born diplomat. In real ity he had undergone a severe training as chief of the camel compound, an in closure where caravans, arriving or going, were compelled to stay in their passage out or into the desert. This was a large open square, where more or less fighting took place, and it was the duty of its keeper to maintain peace and order with out soldiery or police assistance. For 30 years Hafiz had accomplished this task. ad as Hashim Bey was known to refer his political difficulties to his Judg ment, so the Turkish government relied upon him to assuage the temper of the warring Bedouins. A trifling tax on cam els was his principal Income. It did not take the man from Oregon long to perceive the excellent qualities of the excellent Haflz as an intermediary for his own diplomatic mission, and he set about winning the old man's confidence as deliberately as he would play a hand at poker. The great international ace, Theodore Roosevelt, was laid on the table and swept every trick. Hafiz. the great, the trustworthy, the wise, ceoeented to ge with the three big Armed with, letter hy iKc President, three tioj, Americans' peneiraie fheJarvc! W&jtes, fraternise vitlytlie Bedonni, erfvd Bring, home c string men from North America Into the desert he had not visited for 30 years and see that they secured the nneet Arab horses at reasonable prices. As soon as a suitable suite of attend ants could be obtained they left Aleppo, and from that time till they returned there, three weeks later, the Arabian des ert was a place of Oriental splendor and mystery, though seen through scorched eyeballs, for whether by the great red glare of the sun they saw, or by the monster moon of tropical heat, there was always the fever to excite the brain, and running through the whole adventurous dream the maddening sound of cool, fresh running water, "It's an awful thing, that sun, a great red ball of Are that seems to be there only to torture you, to drive you mad," said Homer Davenport, recalling the memory of it all as a nightmare without valor. "I often wondered, when we were well in the-desert, how I could have been such a fool as to sit on my porch at home and deliberately plan this expedition. Poor Arthur, who is a giant in size and nerve, agreed with me that if he ever got back to his place In Greenwich, Conn., he would never, never leave it again. No man can realize what a precious thing Is water till he has been three weeks in the desert drinking dirty tepid stuff as if it were fit to drink. And then that solemn lone liness of three white man surrounded by strange races, strange sounds, and no one, nothing that understood us." The only American they met was a woman missionary, who was tolerably happy because she was returning home. They did not see the tribe of Arabs whose souls she had been Industriously convert ing, but they must have been a hardy tribe, for it was their custom to cut the tender skin of their babies and rub salt into the wounds, that they might begin life with befitting hardihood. But In the midst of the tragedy there was some light, some insurmountably amusing incidents. There was the man with the spurs. This man ate, drank, and slept In his spurs, but never actually used them ex cept to crack hard-boiled eggs. And there was the . amazing sarcasm and wit of Akmut Hafiz, equal to any white man's sense of humor. And, too, there was the Iron cot, on which Arthur tried to sleep every night, but never could, because it invariably broke through with him and left him chiefly prone upon the sands of the desert. The daily repairs to this cot was one of the relaxations. The various Imaginative attempts of an Oriental cook to prepare canned beans also had its measure of genial surprise, and then there were the constant trade winds, night and day, blown hot as if straight from the sun, that registered 135 degrees by day and played a silent hoax MR. DEVERY EDITBD BL PERCY LINDON -HOWARD. SOME guy once said comparisons was odious, said Mr. Devery, an' I guess he was right. The point to figure out is which comparison it is that's odi ous, yours or the other fellows. If a man compares your best girl's laughin' blue eyes to a pair of double back action squinters stuck in the head of a dame with piebald hair, there ain't tiothin' odi ous to your girl by a jug full. Not a chance. She's tickled to death. The min ute you praise her you can bet your life she's got a smile on that's all wool an' a yard wide. An' when you put some other dame on the pan she's reached that stage of ecstasy where Heaven hasn't got no further charms for her. So, so far as comparisons goes, it all depends on the point of view. These preliminary remarks is made for the benefit of the crowd that Is always howlin' out about the glories of their own country an' holdin' that there's nothln" good nowhere else on earth the same push that dodges their taxes as a matter of patriotism. They need wakln' up. Take myself. I was always more or less prejudiced against England. Now I can see where I was dead wrong. It's a great country. Of course, the minute you begin comparln' England and America there's bound to be an odious spring up. The thing to decide is who owns it. What's more, odious or not, no American can spend any time In England without goin' quietly into a corner an' welghln' up the game as compared to what he finds at home. It's natural. Every man likes to think his own country's the only one on earth. Of course, he knows it ain't. But he likes to con himself into thlnkin' it is. If he can con the other fellow into agree in', then he's delivered the patriotic goods. It's his country. He made it. No body else had no hand in it except a few selected guys that he let in on the ground floor- But when you get down to figurin' there Is tremendous advantages In all countries that other countries hasn't got. An' the same with disadvantages. For in stance, we've got Hearst, Parkhurst, and Weinerwurst to put up with. An' we have certain things to offset 'em. But we need 'em, don't we? Very well. So it goes elsewhere. France has the Count de Gasoline. An' if you can find anythin' more calculated to drive a howlin' popu lace to frenzy than England passes out In its national song-writer, Alfred Austin, I'd like to know it. I tell you, it's not all beer an' skittles everywhere. To begin. England is great as a free country. When it comes to freedom there ain't no country that's got anythin' on England. There's freedom of the press, freedom of speech, freedom In the courts, freedom all down the line, an you're Just as free to starve to death in England as you are in any place in the world, not even exceptln' Noo York. What's more, you can do it with less Interference. In Noo York, if you sneak off in a cor ner an1 try to starve to death on the sly, the chances is you get discovered an' foiled. Somebody butts in. First thins you know you're waltzed off to the poor house an tempted away from your good resolution by some guy offerin' you a nice slice of dog-biscuit. Now. you don't have no such block in your way in England. There it usually takes a man eight weeks to break into the poorhouse, even if he mills all the strings he can to get there. An" he's got to use a jimmy at that. So Xar as dig-gln' him out an annoyln' him. Arab oteedLf by dropping 40 degrees at night to make it seem cold enough for blankets. There was no discernible trail through this desert, but the wise Akmut Hafiz, no blest Bedouin of them all, knew every grain of ' sand, and led the first Amer icans across the wastes straight to the great camp of the mighty Anazas. It was a vast canvas city of 10,000 tents, with 40,000 camels, horses, and men to ride them. There were no women that the Americans saw, perhaps one or two, who instead of using the delicate paints of modern society merely stained their lips an azure blue. This was also done to the favorite mares. Upon approaching this the largest Be douin camp of the desert, Akmut Hafiz became suddenly young and vigorous. Rising in his saddle, almost standing erect in his stirrups, he shouted exultantly, "Anaza" Homer Davenport, exhausted and dazed by the terrific heat, by the deadly scorched air of the place, turned listlessly In the direction where Hafiz pointed. Again, the Bedouin shouted, louder this time. "Anaza!" "Then I saw." says Davenport, "in the dim light of the horizon what looked to me at first like a low range of hills on the horizon, which gradually resolved itself into a city of tents, into living statues of stoic camels, and everywhere something close to the ground that seemed to me most like stuffed eagles, but which turned out to be falcons tethered for the night." They were received with true grandeur of Arab ceremony, for it seems there is no white man of the vast civilized races that can compare in dignity, grace, and majesty of manner to the Arab of the desert. Particularly were the Bedouins flattered that these Americans had come to meet them without soldiers and no doubt the presence of Akmut Hafiz gave distinction to the party. "It was like a dream come true." said Homer Davenport. "I turned to Arthur and asked him if I was awake: if this great picture was real. From the time I was old enough to read I had thought and wondered about all this, and here I was, a man past 40, come into the dream-world of my youth. In an instant I realized that these were my people, that I was a Bedouin, born in Oregon, but heir to the desert. Something of the sort I said to these people; I told them that I was an Arab, too; had always been one, and would always, remain one. Akmut Haflz at once enrolled me as one of them, saying that until then there had always been a Bedouin missing, and that now, for the first time, their counsel was complete." SINGS PRAISES an' makin' him go to the poorhouse, there's nothin' to it. He can starve to death in his own way an' take his own time about it without governmental in terference of any kind. The two main things that strikes you about England as soon as you be gin to look around is first that they're strong on dead ones an' relics, an second that them that lives is great as a musical nation. I've see more pianos in houses where there ain't no one can play than in any other country in the world. Every family has a piano, even If it don't have no inBiijes. An" if the people can't play that don't cut no Ice. The piano's there, just the same. They'll use a phonograph to grind out the toons. An' the love of music ain't r I- B- i h k-r 7 r .. : ' i v r. : confined to no particular class. It runs with the rich an' it runs with the poor. As an example of how they love music they've ben singin' "Waitin at the Church" for just 15 years. An' now they've passed it over to Noo York so that the travelin' Englishman shan't feel lonely when he's away from home. Now it's a good toon. I'm not sayin a word again it. But you've got to lift your lid to the guy that can listen to It for 15 years." He's a hero. There is limitations even in music. But the English people is really crazy on the subject. They even tike grand opera. Noo York hasn't got no further than pretendln' to like it, but in England they really enjoy it. It's grown on em. You can see musical families everywhere, especially on the streets. Do you suppose they stand for Eye talian organ grinders there? Forget it. Home made's the cry in England. When America wants to raise the price of anything they tag It Imported when HlfU P. of Fleet After that there was really no danger from bodily harm to any one of he three Americans, and they set to work upon the actual business of buying horses. "With each horse or mare purchased the ceremony was the same. Akmut Hafiz would Join the hands of the buyer and seller, and, placing his hand over the joined hands, he would de mand that the Arab repeat the good points' of the horse aloud "to Allah!" If he did so the deal was closed and the horse delivered according to terms, for if there was any false inflation of values the Arab selling would not risk the wrath of Allah against the liar. Each horse had hung around its neck in a small -bag a Mohammedan prayer, and the only condition of sale was that this should never be cut from the horse's neck. It is the "belief of the Arabs that the spirit of Allah is In every horse of the desert, and that when the Arab steed arches his tail it is a symbol of this great spirit. Because our horses wear their tails with a shameful disregard of style, the Arabs say that none of them are blessed with the spirit of Allah. Homer Davenport managed to bring to this country 27 pure-blooded Arab mares and horses from the great desert, and 17 of them are now at his farm In Morris Plains, N. J. Among them Is the cele brated Musun, or listening horse. Who, being used in the desert to listen for the approach of his master's enemy, will sud denly become as if carved In stone, his ears well forward, seemingly unconscious of life about him. Doubtless the Bedouins are now con vinced that the Americans are a race of giants, and that some day they will ride across the desert to New York. They will always expect the Bedouin - from Oregon to greet them when they come. Sitting the other night at the fireside of Davenport's home, coursing again on his Arab steed across the mirage of the desert in the log flames before us, there came a loud knock at the door, and in walked Arthur, 6 foot 3. In a moment they were embracing, as Davenport seized him, saying: "Arthur, Arthur, my bride of the desert." He nearly lost his bride because of fever and thirst one night, and while the Bed ouins were praying to the east, Daven port's heart and eyes were set fixedly westward. v That was nearly their last night in the desert, and in the grim white moonlight of that lifeless sky Davenport thought of his Bedouin friends In America. Among his letters he found one from Blanche Bates. "She's a Bedouin, sure as you live," OF ENGLAND England wants to turn the trick they label it Home Made. The Eyetalian or gan grinders don't have no show. They're all Britishers. An' I tell you a good loyal Englishman's heart swells with pride when he sees five or six of his fellow countr.ymen marchin with their instruments down Cheapside hustlin' for a stand to hand out a few gems of song. An when they burst in the chorus, Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves, Britons never, never, never, shall be slaves, he slaps himself on the chest an says, "Hooray, England forever." I seen one of these guys last week pattin' himself on the back. But I 1 yTMT-. i JL "i Kl'lE BRITANNIA, BRITANNIA KTd.ES THE BRITAINS NEVER, NEVER, NEVER SHAIX didn't see him doin' no diggin down. When the hat come round he waltzes away. The passln' out. It appears, is always left for the foreign aliens to attend to or for them that thinks only of music as a sordid matter. Of course, there's a lot of four flushers in England, just the same as anywhere else. The doods goes along the streets with their canes an their tabloid coats, walkin' in their sleep an' dreamin' that they're invited out to dine with a Dook or an Earl, when the facts is they haven't got enough coin to buy a hair cut on the Install ment plan. They're a different brand to our doods, but they reach the same stage of lunacy. The methods of ar rivin' Is different, but the object's the same. An' you find very little differ ence in the society push. They've got longer pedigrees an" shorter purses, so it breaks about even. If an American wants more pedigree it's dead easy to set H if he puts up for it. An' tt AKMUT Drawn for the mused Davenport, and, tearing the letter In half, he gave to the trade winds her He Adnfiires the Universal Love of Music and the Preference of Coin Over Coronets ain't half as hard aB you might think. J The Herald's College ain't in it win the Kennel Club for stickln' to the rules. An' of course. It oughtn't to be. When a man poses as a pedigree speci men, it's a cinch he's a shine, an' it don't cut very much figure what series of shines he belongs to. With a dog: it's different. Incidentally that Herald's College Is a fine lnstltootion. With a reasonable amount of capital behind it there's a chance to start one in Noo York an' make a big bunch of money. But I want to tell you this: While the Americans is gettin' more struck on titles every day, the English in terest in 'em is wanln". Eight British ers out of ten prefers coin to coronets. WAVES, BE SLAVES. Of course, if they go together, all right. If not, then pass out the spon doollx. Of course, here an' there you'll find an old-time family that holds its breath, every time the band plays "God Save the King." But there is others. The spirit of democracy's in the air. It's in the risin' generation. I was to a perty a few nights ago where there was a panic because a youngster give the laugh to the boy with the gold top piece. He was one of these infant prod igals. An' of course he was trotted out to speak his piece about the "Charge of the Light Brigade." All English kids speaks the "Charge of the Ught Brigade." There never was no other charge. Of course, none of 'em knows the Light Brigade from the Fire Brigade, but that don't cut no ice. Well, when the youngster comes out, he makes his dcebew by slttln' down on the floor. An' he wouldn't stand up. What's more, he would not do no recltln' of his piece. Of course, everybody starts in to lolly htm. For my part, I figured HAFI. New York Times by Homer Davenport, I signature, and so to the desert gave back I a souvenir of its own. that the kid showed good sense. But they wouldn't have it that way. Final ly his grandpa butts in. "Harold," he says, "be a good boy. If you'll speak your piece I'll take you tomorrow to see His Most Gracious! Majesty the King give out medals tor the soldiers at Windsor Castle. There' now." Harold didn't quite see where the "there now" come in. "What did the soldiers do?" says Harold. "Fought an' bled for their country," says Grandpa, "like true British sol diers." "An' what did the King dor' asks Harold. "Oh," says Grandpa, "His Majesty Is goin' to give out the medals." "Will he wear his crown?" asks Harold. "Why of course not." says Grandpa. 'Then I'm not goin'," says the young ster. "What-good is a King If he doesn't wear a crown?" Then everybody bursts In an' says he'll wear a gorgeous uniform all gold lace an' trappln's. "Is he a soldier?" nsks Harold. "Yes, my boy," says the chorus, Is the greatest soldier In the world. He Is the commander of the whole armv." Who did he fight?" asks the kid. "Come now, Harold." says Grandpa, "he a good boy an' speak your piece. His Majesty is a very good man. He never fights, and " "Then why Is he a soldier so he can give out medalE?" "You'll see him tomorrow, darlln', says Grandma. "No. I won't," says the youngster, "cos I won't go. I know. You Just want me to speak my piece an' then take me out an' fool me an' show me a man. I know." With that there wan a panlo that ended In one guy tippln" over a piano lamp, an' Harold's mother yankln' him from the room for a course In patriot ism. A Royal Bog's Tomb. '"r"' J Chicago Tribune. Another of these examinations of royal tombs, undertaken during the reign of the late King of Holland, revealed the extraordinary fact that In the vault of the so-called New Church, at Delft, which for hundreds of years has served as the mausoleum for the members of the house of Orange, there are preserved the remains of a large dog. It waa a pet of W-llllam the Silent, and had on two sep arate occasions saved,. Its royal master's life by warning him of the approach of the Spanish assassin, who eventually mur dered him In 1684. It succumbed to the wounds sustained in endeavoring to defend the Prince, and it was there upon decided to recognize the devotion of the animal by entombing It along will the Stadtholder. Syropoefam of Demoermey. Buffalo Evening News. I'd Ilk to have a view of Folk's, Another one of HUI'e: I'd like to have A. Parker amok Some more of thoe creen pllle; And then I'd like Tom Johnson to Advance his views eo tryln' And then about a hundred words From William Tomuch Bryan; A word or two from Bill Jerome, McCarren, Smith and Hearst, Murphy. Big and Little Tim Each one opinion terse; Then have Thomas Jefferson Step down from off the wall And tell us on the level wfeat He thought about It ail.