Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About The Springfield news. (Springfield, Lane County, Or.) 1916-2006 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 1, 1921)
ni PAGE SIX THE SPHINT.riKM) NKWS OJi& OF THE I ! .1. I mm. f 'i.,fs mnr.Lf. ik. : SYNOPSIS. Warned by Ma phyalrlan that he haa not met than alx months to live. Falling alta despondently on a park bench, wondering where ha should srwnd those alx months. A friendly squirrel practically decides the matter for him. Hla blood la pioneer - blow, and he decldea to end his days In the forests of Ore. s;on. Memories of hla grandfather and a deep love for all things -it the wild help him In reaching a decision. CHAPTER I Continued. . The squirrel was very close to. him, and Dnn teemed to know by Instinct that the movement of a single muscle would give him away. So he' sat as If he were rosing before a photogra pher's camera. The fact that be was able to do It Is In Itself Important. It Is considerably easier to exercise with dumb-bells for five minutes than to sit absolutely without motion for the same length of time. Hunters and naturalists acquire the art with training. It was therefore rather cu rious that Dan succeeded so well the first time he tried It He had sen8e enough to relax first, before he froze. Thus he didn't put such a severe strain on his muscles. The squirrel, after ten seconds had elapsed, stood on his haunches to see better. First he looked a long time with his left eye. Then he turned his head and- looked very carefully with his right Then he backed off a short distance and tried to get a focus .with both. Then be came some half-dozen steps nearer. A moment before he bad been cer .taln that a living creature In fact one of the most terrible and powerful living creatures In the world had been slttlns on the park bench. Now his poor little brain was completely addled. He was entirely ready to be lieve that his eyes had deceived him. Bushy-tail drew off a little further, fully convinced nt last that his topes of a nut from a child's hand were blasted. But he turned to look once more. The figure still sat utterl In ; ert And all nt once he forgot his de i vourlng hunger In the face of an over whelming curiosity. He came somewhat nearer and ; looked a long time. Then he made a half-circle about the bench, turning his head as he moved. He was more 'puzzled than ever, but he was no longer afraid. His curiosity had be come so Intense that no room for fear was left. And then he sprang upon the park bench. Dan moved, then. The movement consisted of a sudden heightening of the light In his eyes. But the squir rel didn't see It It takes a muscular response to be visible to the eyes of the wild things. The squirrel crept slowly along the bench, stopping to sniff, stopping to stare with one eye and another, Just devoured from head to tall with curi osity. And then he leaped on Dau's knee. He was quite convinced, by now, that this warm perch on which he stood was the most singular and In teresting object of hla young life. It was true that he was faintly worried by the smell that leached his nostrils. But all It really did was further to In cite his curiosity. He followed the leg tip to the bip and then perched on the elbow. And an Instant more he was poking a cold nose Into Dun's neck. j But If the squirrel was excited by all these developments, Its amazement was nothing compured to Dan's. It had been the most astounding Inci dent In the man's life. He sat still, tingling with delight And in a single flash of inspiration he knew he had come among his own people at last He knew where be would spend Lis last six months of life. Ills own grandfather had been a hunter and trapper and frontiersman lav a certain vast but little known Ore gon forest. His son had moved ti the eastern cities, but In Dan's garret there used to be old mementoes and curios from these savage days a few claws and teeth, and a fragment of an old diary. The call had come to him at last Tenderfoot though he was, Dan would go buck to those forests, to spend his last six months of life fed i!j4i 11 h I' among the mild creatures that uade them their home. CHAPTER II. The dinner hour found Dan Filling In the public library of Gltcheupolls, asking the girl who sat behind the desk if he might look at maps of Ore gon. He remembered that his grand fnther had lived In southern Oregon, lie looked along the bottom of his mnp and discovered a whole empire, rang ing from gigantic snge plains to the east to douse forests along the Fa clflc ocean. He began to search for Llnkvllle. Time was when Llnkvllle was one of the principal towns of Oregon. Dan remembered the place because somj of the time-yellowed letters his grand father had sent h!m had been mailed at a town that horn. this name. But he couldn't find Llnkvllle on the map. letter he wtis to know the reason that the town, half-way between the sage plains and the mountains, had prospered and changed Its name. He remembered that It was located on one of those great fresh-water lakes of southern Oregon; so, giving up that search, be began to look for lakes. He found them In plenty vast, jnmeas ured lakes that seemed to be distrib uted without reason or sense over the. whole southern end of the- state. Near the Klamath lakes, seemingly the most imposing of all the fresh-water lakes that the map revealed, he found a city npmed Klamath Foils. He put the name down in his notebook. The map showed a particularly I high, far-spreading range of moun tains due west of the city. Of course they were the Cuscudes; the mup said so ery plainly. Then Dun knew he was petting home. Ills pnmdfather had lived and trapped ami died In He Couldn't Find Llnkvllle on me map. these same wooded hills. Finally be located and recorded the nnme of the largest city on the main railroad line that was adjacent to the Cascades. The preparation for his departure took many days. He read many books on flora and fuuna. lie bought sport ing equipment Knowing the usual ratio between the respective pleasures of anticipation and realization, he did not hurry himself at alL And one midnight he bonrued a west-bound train. He sat for a long time in the vesti bule of the sleeping car, thinking in anticipation of this final adventure of his life. He was rather tremulous and exultant as Le sunk down Into bis berth. He saw to It that at least a meas ure of preparation was made for his coming. That night a long wire went out to the Chamber of Commerce of cne of the larger southern Oregon cities. In It, he told the date of bis arrival and asked certain directions. He wanted to know the name of some mountuln rancher where possiyy he might find bourd and room for the re minder of the summer and the fall. The further back from the paths o. men, he wrote, the greater would be his pleasure. And be signed the wire with his full name: Dan Falllnt. with a Henry In the middle, and "III" at the end. He usually didn't sign his name In quite this manner. The iwp' Ultehcnpolls did not have particular ly vivid memories of Dan's grandfa ther. But It might be that a legend of the gray, straight frontiersman who was his ancestor hud still survived In these remote Oregon wild. The use of the full name would do no harm. Instead of hurting. It was a poaltlvo Inspiration. The Chamber of Com merce of the busy little Oregon city was not usually exceptionally Inter ested In stray hunters that wanted a boarding place for the summer. Its business was finding country homes for orchardlsts In the pleasant river valleys. But It happened that the re cipient of the wire a one of the old est residents, a frontiersman himself, and It was one of th, traditions of the Old West that friendships were not soon forgotten. I '.in Falling I had been a legend In the old trapping and shooting days when this man was young. So It came about thot when Dan's train stopjM-.l at Cheyenne, he found a telegram waiting him: "Any relation to Dan Falling of the Cm 11 u a divide?" Dan hnd never heard of the t'mp qna divide, but he couldn't doubt but that the sender of the wire referred to his grandfather, lie wired In the affirmative. The bend of the Chamber of Commerce received (he wire, read it. thrust It Into his desk, and In th face of a really important piece ,of J business proceeded to forget all about i It. Thus it came about that, except I for one thing. Dan Fallmg would hove probably stepped off the train at his destination wholly unheralded and un met. The one thing that changed his destiny was that at a meeting of a certain widely known fraternal order the next night, the Chamber of Com merce crossed trails with the Frontier In the person of another old resident who had his home In the farthest reaches of the Umpqua divide. The i latter asked the former to Come up j for a few days shooting the deer be ing fatter and more numerous than any previous season since tho days of the grizzlies. Too busy. I'm ofrald." the Cham ber of Commerce had replied. "But Lennox thnt reminds me. Do you remember old Dan Falling?" j Lennox probed buck Into the years i for a single Instant, straightened out nil the kinks of his memory In less time than the wind straightens out the folds of a flag, and turned a must Interested fnce. "Ilomcmber him I" he exclaimed. "I should say I do." Tho middle-aged mnn half-closed his pierc ing, gray eyes. Listen, Steele," he snld, "I saw Dan Foiling make a bet once. I was Just a kid. but I wuke up In my sleep to j marvel at It. We had a full long j glimpse of a hlsu-k-tall bounding up a j Iritis slope. It was Just a spike-buck, and Dun Fu'ling said he could take 1 the left-hnnd plke off with one shot ! from his obi Sim rpe's. Three of us bet him the whole thing In less tlmn two seconds. With the next shot, he'd get the deer. He won the bet. and now If I ever forget Dan Falling, j I want to die." ! "You're Just the man I'm 'ooktng for, then. You're not going out till tho I dav after tomorrow?" "No." I "On the limited, hitting here fpmor- j row morning, there's a grandson of j Dan l ulling. His name is Dan Fall i lag, too, anil be wants to go up to your place to bunt. Stuy all summer and I pay board." I Lennox's eyes said that he couldn't j believe It was true. After a while his HOW DOLLAR WORKS FOR YOU Benjamin Franklin's Fund of $3,000 Grew to $431,383 In One Hun dred Years. now the dollnr Invested works for the Individual himself has been best Illustrated by that first great Ameri can teacher of thrift Benjamin Franklin. In 1701, he bequeathed 1,000 ($5,000) to the common wealth of Massachusetts and. to the city of Boston as a mark of his appre ciation for having appointed him as agent in England at the "handsome" salary of -',000 ($10,000) and to muke his bequest really valuable with his great foresight. Franklin provided In his will that this 1,000 should be put out at 6 per cent Interest for one hundred years; that at the end of that time 81-131 of the fund accumu lated should again be put out at In terest for nnother hundred years and then the fund be divided one-fourth to Boston and three-fourths to the state. Let us show how well that 1,000 of Franklin's has worked. At the end of the first hundred years it had grown to $-131,383.62. It was then di vided In accordance with the will; $329,300.48 was set aside for "public work" and $102,083.14 was started on Its course of earning Interest for an other hundred yeurs. That was in 1891. January 1, 1918, this sum bad grown to $'Ju7,803.13 end at this rate of Increase the fuud should amount tongue spoke, too. Mtbod l.ord." he aid. "I used to follrr Dan arovnd like old Mhng. before be died, followed Snowbird. Of fours he run come. But be en n't y board." It was rather characteristic 'f the mountain men that the grandson of Dan Falling couldn't possibly ry hoard. But Steele knew the ways of cities and of men. and he only smiled, "lie won't come, then." be explained. "Anyway, have that out with Mm at the end of his slay He wants fi-h-lug, and you've got "'"t I" the North fork. Moreover, you're a thousand miles back" "Only one hundred. If you must know. But Steele do you suppose he's the man his grandfather was be fore him-that all the Fallings have been since the .first days of the Oie gon trail? If be Is well, my hat's off to him before le steps off the train." The mountaineer's bronzed face wss earnest and Intent In the bright lights of the club. Steele thought he had known his breed. Now be began to have doubts of his own knowledge. "He won't be; don't count on he said humbly. "The, Fallings hare done much for this region, and I'm glad enough to do a Utile to pay It bark, hut don't count much on this eastern boy. He's lived In jitlcs; besides, he's a sick man. He suld so In bis wire. You ought to know It before you take him In." The bronzed face -changed possibly a shadow of d!apolntnicnt came In to his eyes. "A lunger., eh?" Lennox repealed. "Yes It's true that If ho'J been Ilk the other Fallings, he'd uever have been - that. Vhy. Steele, you couldn't huVe given that old mnn a -old If you'd tied him In the Bogus tlver overnight. Of 'olirse you rouhln't .ount on the line keeping up forever. But I'll take him, Kr the memory cf hi grandfather.' "You're not afraid to?" "AfrBli. b II He can't Infect those two strapping children of mine. Snow bird weighs one hundred and twenty pounds and Is hard as. sreel. Never knew a sick day In her life. And you know BUI, of course." Disappointment turned Into rapture al sight of the wild country and through warm welcome accorded by Silas Lenaos, Dan Failing's host, characterise the nest install ment of this story. (TO lit! CONTINUED.) An Extinct Monster. The curators of the Lnauccston and Tasmiinlan museums have presented .o the Itoyal society of Tasmania the nrellmlnary account of a nearly com plete skeleton of n gigantic extinct monster, recently discovered in the plelstoeence beds of Tasmania. The animal was as large as the largest ex isting rhinoceros. The new discovery shows clearly that It w as a rhinoceros Mko ardinul. with n skull built for ag gressive wurfiire. nnil nt least one pow erful Imrn on the snout. Evidence of The gigantic buttles In which this an! .mil engaged Is to bo found In the complete smnsblng and partial mend ing of the collarbone, and in the crush frig and subsequent repair of the bones of the nose and snout. Montreul Her ald. Wise Words. We may be assured that liberty will not descend to a jieople; a people must raise themselves to liberty; It Is a blessing thnt must bo corned before It can be enjoyed; and what Is worth buvliig is worth earnestly striving for. From the Itullun. to at least six million dollars when the second period Is completed, and may be considerable more. World's Work. One's Work Shows for Itself. Exceptional mental fitness Is bound :o express itself in the work ono does. Superior minds are not sntlsfled with what will pass. They are conscious of nerlttng more than passing rating and try to make everything they do show It. They are never of the whining va riety who are forever complaining of their chances In life. Life to them la a constant opportunity and If they full It Is because they have either been un fortunate or foolish. In either case there la the fine challenge to redeem the time and more than surpass the past With them It's a matter of pass and surpass. It's a matter of the head and It shows In the deeds of the hands. Porpoise a Fact 8wlmmer. There la another mammal that la so fast no one has ever been able to find out bow fast he Is. This Is the por poise. The porpoise can do stunts In front of the fastest boat that travels the bounding ware and when he is through after several hours of clown ing he flirts his tall and nonchalantly speeds beyond the horizon. The por poise will do his tricks under the bow of a nine-knot cargo trump or u 22 knot ocean greyhound. He Is like the antelope In that he sets his pace ao cordlng to the speed of the pursuer, POULTRY CACKLES CARING FOR GROWING CHICKS Essentials to Dest Growth Are Good Coops, Cleanliness, Feed, Watsr and Free Range. (1'n-lMir.l l.v the l iiitrj Hiates teart ii n-nt el Ai l ulture ) The cure of growing chicks, especial ly (lining warm went her, Is moat Im portant, suy specialists vt the Culled Stales Dcpiirtuii'iil of Agriculture. Every hoy or girl member of poul try iliib clioulil give them the best of uttetilloii If success Is lo bo had. The buby chicks inuy l smart Mil f.-llowa rrom strong, vigorous parent slock, Mid they may have been brood ed carefully for the first two or three weeks, but unless they receive prot,njr care and iiiaiiugemeiit during their luter growing pvrl.xl they will not develop procrly. and many of thetu will be lost through disease or sick ness. The chief essentials to proper growth are good coops or. houses, cleanliness, proper feed and water, simile, ntul free ruuge. Every coop or poultry house used for growing chicks should be kept clean ut all times. Sickness or disease starts usually In unclean quarters, and In such places lice and mites ore al- m. r , . - - SJ sl 1 Isfel - f a Young Incubator Chicks Allowed to Run Out on Government Farm at Bcltsville. ways more plentiful. Coops and bouses should be cleaned and sprayed once n week, and clean shavings, chaff, or sand put on the Door. Examine the chicks and Iioiihc often for llcv and mites, and If found they should be got rlil of ut once by following the direc tions In Department Circular Id. Lice. Mites and ieiinllness, which may be bud, free, upon application to the di vision of publlciitiot.s, United Stales 1 epartmeiit of Agriculture. A variety of feed, with fresh, clean water, Is necessary If chicks are to grow prtM'rly. Perhaps the three most tofessnry for rapid growth are grain feed, green feed and dry mtmh. 1 'on I try Kpeclullsts of the department suy that In addition to the green feed and dry mah, which should be pro vided regularly, a grain mixture should be fed night and morning, giv ing as large a quantity us the chicks will eat clean, but no more. A good grulu mixture for growing chicks con sists of three purls cracked corn, two parts wheat, and two parts hulled outs. When nvulluhle, kullr or rolled or hulled barley may be substituted for hulled oats. In localities where bulled oats, kuflr, or rolled barley can not bo obtained, or are too expensive, a mixture of cracked corn uud wheut only may bo fed until tho chicks are old enough to eut whole outs, when two parts muy bo added to the corn und wheat mixture. In uddltlon to green feeds and grain, dry mnsh should be kept before grow ing chicks at all times after they are three or four weeks old. It Is best to feed It In a hopper lnsldo the build ing, or where It will not be exposed to rntn or wet. Here Is a good dry mnsh mixture: Two, pounds com meal, two pounds middlings, one pound oat ineul, two pounds wheat bran, ono pound beef scrap and ono fourth pound charcoal. Grit and oyster shell ulrto should be provided. SMALL FLOCK IN BACK YARD Two Hens for Each Member of Fam. ily Are Recommended as Best by Poultry Specialists. The average novice can reasonably expect to get an averago of at least 10 dozen eggs per hen per year from his small flock In tho back yard. On the basis of two hens to each mem ber of the family this will give 20 dozen eggs a year to each ncrson. which amount Is about halfway be tween the uverago of farm and city consumption. No backyard poultry keener should be satisfied with less than this, say poultry specialists of the United States Department of Agriculture. Every backyard poultry keeper should try. to get'-'ns- much more as possible. To nrovlda an eeir a duy for each person, two hens would .::hsjr,i i -' . .i i'i a , r I I 4. m have to lav iha ergs each a year. I