boys own paper 4th january 1913

8/9/2019 Boys Own Paper 4th January 1913

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/boys-own-paper-4th-january-1913 1/16

" T h e d o g ' s g a z e w a s fixed upon him, and as thei r e y e s mtt the great brute c a m e skulking to his fee t . " (See " On the Winter TnU" p . 212.)



210 The "Boy's Otetn Taper.

A Complete

Story.O n th e W i n t e r Trail ,

HERE was no doubt

that old Ben Rathallwas a sick man. The

doctor at camp No. 7

said there was just

one chance for him. If he

could be operated upon

within four days he might

pull through, but if not

It was dead of winter,

and the men considered it

a five days' trip to Fort

McTavish, where the opera

tion would have to be

performed. There was just

one man at camp N o. 7 who might make it

in four days . Maudlin, the half-breed dog

driver, was famed from the Hudson Bay to

the Mackenzie for the many hard trips he had

made, but like most exceptional dog drivers,

he was merciless and cruel to a degree.

When the men at cam p No . 7 heard the

doctor's verdict they sent for Maudlin.

" You are the only man who can get him

there," they told the half-breed. " Will

you go ? "

The boys loved old Ben. They would

have carried him to Fort McTavish on their

shoul'ders to have saved his life.

Maudlin's face was expressionless, though

the dark-bearded man in the corner thought

he saw a wolfish gleam come into the musher's

ej'es. He knew Maudlin well." I go alone ? " asked the half-breed

simply.

" That is impossi ble," they tol d him.

" The trail's none too good, and you'll want

a heavy outfit to carry old Ben. Say, who's

the best man to go with him ? "

All eyes turned towards a little fair-headed

man who stood with his back to the stove.

" Joe," they shouted in unison ; " you'r e

the boy ! Yo u ain't big, but you can whack

most of us on the trail."

The little man blushed and shuffled.

" Guess that, ain't true," he answered.

" But I'l l be almighty glad to make the trip. "

Promptly the camp dogs were called in,

and five of the best malamutes singled out

to pull the sled. Four of these belonged to

the half-breed, but the fifth was Dingo,

Joe's dog. Ding o was the most popular

dog in camp, probably because he belonged

to the most popular man.

A oomfortable bed of cushions and spruce

boughs was fixed up on the sled. The dogs

were harnessed in pairs, Dingo as leader,

and in twenty minutes the outfit was ready

to start.

At the last moment the dark-bearded

man drew Joe aside. " Sonn y," he said,

" you want to keep your eyes skinned this

trip. I don 't like the look of things.

Take this, and keep it in your pocket . It'sa sketch map of the country, showing the

trail to Fort McTavish, and giving the

landmarks of the adjoining creeks. If

Maudlin slips you it may come in useful."

A T H R I L L I N G T A L E O F T H E Y U K O N .

The little man grinned. " Guess you 're

kind of worrying yourself when there ain't

no need," he stated. " If Maudlin has got

a spark of manhood about him "

" But he hasn't! " interrupted the other

quickly. " That's just the trouble withyou—you think everyone's as honest as

yourself. Maudlin's got the heart of a grass

snake "

At that moment several of the men called

Joe by name. The team was quite ready to

start, and Maudlin stood at the head of it,

whip in hand, his black eyes peering out from

the furs that swathed his face with eagle

like intensity.

" Tell them they've got t o pull old Ben

through," said the captain, as Joe took his

place at the tail line. " We'll stand the

racket anyway. It's Christmas four days

from now, and we'll be well satisfied if they

pull old Ben through."

A shout of approval rose from the party,

and next momen t, with a cheery " Mush !

Mush ! Haw ! " the team swept to the left,

and set off gaily down the wa terway.

Maudlin and Joe made thirty miles ere

night fell. The trail, so far, was in good

order, but lower down the creek ran more

rapidly, and there was every possibi lity of

encountering rugged ice.

Maudlin was habitually taciturn, and it

was in vain that Joe tried to lead the con

versation into bright and cheery channels,

as they sat over the evening fire. Old Ben

was too sick to talk, and could only listen.

" Christmas Eve three days from now ! "

Joe began. " Say, this will be the fifthChristmas I've spent on the trails. Every

Christmas I've said I'll spend the next at

home, so here goes. Boys, next Christmas I

will go home to see mother."

The half-breed's eyes were fixed on the

fire. He never moved .

" But when Christmas comes," Joe

pursued, with mock sorrowfulness, " I'v e

never got the brass. Told my mother, ten

years ago, that I wouldn't go home till I

could afford to set up that poultry farm of

hers—always had a kind of a hankering

after a poultry farm."

" Shut up ! " growled Maudlin. " Mother

—mother—I'm sick of your old mother and

her poultry farm ! "

Joe blushed like a schoolboy. He was

a simple-minded fellow;and hard living

had not robbed him of a certain apparent

childishness, which they who knew him well,

knew was not childishness at all. He would

have answered angrily, but he had more

sense than to quarrel with Maudlin while on

the trail. So he jflst " shut up," and sat

gazing round at the cold grey stillness.

Next day they began to encounter bad

going. The first ice had broken up, and

the surface of the creek was rough and

jagged. Maudlin used his whip with merciless

liberality, and the sled jolted and shook in

a manner that made the sick man groan." You ain't making the best of the way,"

shouted Joe at length, with his usual frank

ness. " There's smoother going there to the

right. Old Ben can't stand the jolting."

By H. MORTIMER

BATTEN.

The half-breed called the dogs to a halt.

He turned and faced Joe, his cheeks flushed

with heat and impatience. " A m I running

this outfit or are yo u ? " he asked nastily.

" You keep hold of the tail line, and never

mind me. We're up against time, and Ireckon I'm responsible."

He brought his whip across Dingo's flanks,

so that the leader screamed. Joe's answer

that it was no use jolting old Ben to death in

order to save his life was drowned in the

grinding of runners and the creaking of

harness.

Later in the day Dingo began to give

trouble. The half-breed lashed the poor

brute unmercifully till Joe's blood was

boiling. At length he could tolerate it no

longer.

" Go easy with that whip, Maudlin," he

cried angrily. " Use it on your own dogs,

not on mine. Dingo ain't used to it. He's

willing enough, and the whip only flusters

him."

Maudlin made no answer, but a fiendish

gleam came into his eyes. Had Joe known

the man better he might have regretted his

hasty speech.

When they made camp that night, poor

old Ben complained of feeling cramped.

" Guess you'l l lie easier if I fit up a brush

wood mattress for you," said Joe, and while

the half-breed was busy with the dogs, he

slipped off to cut some brushwood.

It was pitch dark under the trees, and as

Joe groped his way he was suddenly startled

by a wet muzzle being thrust against his

face, and a warm tongue caressing his cheek.He dropped to one knee. " Dingo!

Dingo ! " he whispered. " I can't help you ,

old boy. We'll have to stick it out this trip.

I daren't say more—for old Ben's sake."

He clasped the great wolfish brute to his

chest. The dog was fretting at the ill-

treatment it had received, and during the

remainder of the evening clung to Joe's side,

evidently thinking that the half-breed was a

menace to them both.

On nearing camp Joe found old Ben

struggling to sit up, and hoarsely whispering

his name.

" Joe—is that you , Joe ? " muttered the

sick man. " I fancy—Joe, I may slip off

any time. I must—tell you. Latitude

60 N., Longitude 125 E. At fork of Little

Snake, travelling northwards. First fork

one meets after Three Pine Lake. No claim

pegged out. Country unsurveyed."

" Gold 1 " queried Joe.

" Gold. A Second Klondyke . Found it

last spring, and intended returning this.

You can't miss it, Joe. God help you ! "

Then Ben lay down again, and was soon

sound asleep.

Joe looked around him. He saw that the

dog at his side was staring maliciously into

the adjacent spruce thicket, and he fancied

he saw the shadowy outline of a man standing

among the trees." That y ou, Maudlin ? " he shouted. No

answer, but the figure vanished. He crept

into the thicket, and with the tips of hia

fingers felt the marks of snowshoes in the



On the Winter Trail.

snow. " Then Maudlin was listening ! "

he told himself with a shudder.

Presently the half-breed returned, loaded

with firewood. " Big snow come soon,"

he stated. " Best keep good fire to-night."

The man's manner was natural enough,

but Joe distrusted him. " Maudlin," he

said presently, " old Ben's almighty bad to

night. Seems to me he might drop off any

time. You heard what he told me just now ? "

The half-breed's black eyes sought the fire.

" I heard nothing," he answered sullenly.

" It's up to us to stand by him," Joe

pursued, as though ho had not heard his

companion' s reply. " But if he kicks it

we'll just have to stand by each other.

Savvee ? "

" Yep," answered Maudlin mysteriously.

Joe lay down that night with mingled

feelings. He knew that, had Maudlin heard

Ben's statement regarding the gold, neither

he nor old Ben were safe in his company.

Maudlin was not the sort of man to be

content with merely a share of the find.

Joe knew that the fellow would not hesitate

a moment in bringing about the destruction

of both Ben and himself if he thought he

could profit by it. Therefore it was a comfort

to the little man to feel Dingo' s warm body

pressed against him as he passed from

wakefulness into sleep.

Maudlin's prophecy proved correct. Nex t

morning the two men awoke to find their

blankets frozen over, and a whirling maelstrom of snow blotting out the landscape.

Without delay Maudlin got the dogs together,

and harnessed them into the sled. Each of

the animals was shod in small moccasins.

" We're hitting out ? " queried Joe , who

well knew the risk of becoming lost in such a

blizzard.

" We'll have to keep moving," answered

the half-breed, " if we're to make For t

McTavish by Christmas Day."

Two minutes later the sled was in motion.

The dogs had to lie almost flat to prevent

themselves from being swept away. The

dry, whirling snow cut the men's faces, till

blood showed round their lips. Joe coul d

not even see the end of the sled, while

Maudlin and the dogs were blotted out

in the white maelstrom ahead.

As hour after hour they struggled along,

Joe became aware of a sense of admiration

towards the half-breed. He found himself

admiring the man's wonderful woodmanship-

in guiding them through that whirling

tempest, while he himself could not see adozen paces. But as the day wore on a

great distrust began to rise within him.

Why was Maudlin urging the team so>

remorselessly ? Joe felt himself helpless.

He was like a blind man being led to the

edge of a precipice.

No t till darkness had fallen did Maudlin

call the team to a halt. " We'll make

camp here," he shouted . " Guess this is

Lake Kipaawawa. We're well up to time,

and it's all straight sailing now."

Joe heaved a sigh of relief. Perhaps,

after all, his fears were groundless. A n j -

way he would try to forget them, and with a

lighter heart he turned towards the forestto procure firewood.

Again, in the darkness, Joe felt Dingo's

warm muzzle thrust against his face.

" You'll miss your grub, Dingo," he said,

patting the animal. " Maudlin' s feeding

the other dogs right now, so away yo u go ."

The dog trotted away a few paces, then

paused. In the dimness Joe saw the great

brute point its muzzle to the sky, and then a

long, doleful howl broke the stillness of the

great woods.

" That means something," Joe told

himself. " Here , Dingo, what is it ? "

But the dog had vanished into the darkness.

Joe hurried back to the sick man. He

made the fire, and prepared supper, thensat down to await Maudlin. Presently he

shouted, but no answer came. A new fear

suddenly gripped him. He strapped on his

snowshoes, and hurried into the darkness

calling the half-breed by name.

Joe had not gone many paces when he

stumbled over something that lay in the

snow. Oh, horror ! It was one of the

malamutes—dead, its skull broken. A

few feet farther on he found another, and a

third, and fourth. Four of their dogs lying

dead ! Where was Dingo ? Where—where

was Maudlin ?

Joe did not need to ask himself the question

twice. With a woodsman's quick instinctthe horrible truth dawned upon him.

Maudlin had deserted him, killing the dogs

so that he would not be able to follow. All

that day they had been travelling—not on

the trail to Fort McTavish, but upon a

strange trail he did not know—a trail which

had led them far into the heart of thatchaos of lakes and waterways through which

no woodsman could hope to find the path

unguided. Then Maudlin had, after all,

heard old Ben's statement concerning the

gold !

Joe hurriedly returned to the sled. Snow

was still falling, but the wind had dropped.

To his horror he found that the half-breed

had stolen the pemmican—that only tiie

coffee and old Ben's medicine remained in

the store box !

The little man's feelings can well be

imagined. He thought of his mother—•

JU-JITSU FOR SCHO OLBOY S.

it

In Japan ju-iitsu, o r Judo, is now an impo rtant feature of the school curriculum.Boys have to practise the art at least two hours a week. Professor K. Sakamo to, aninstructor of iu-jitsu, to whom we are ind ebte d for these ph otog rap hs, here give s usthe most common ways of applying this art of self-defence. T he abov e pictureshows the method of throwing an oppo nent by the mov eme nt of one's right leg.This metho d is named " Hanekos hi."



212 The "Boy's Obvn Taper.

JU-JITSU FOR SCHOOLBOYS,

n.

T h e " Ko s h i -n ag e" method—throwing an opponent

by th e quick movement of one 's waist.

of Ben, of Bingo, of ever3'one but himself.

Where was Bingo ? Doubtless the faithful

dog was dead, like the rest. Nothing could

be done till daylight came, and at length Joefell asleep.

He awoke next morning to find that the

blizzard had passed over. It was clear and

dry.

" It's Christmas Ev e ! " he shouted.

" Merry Christmas, Ben." And he laughed

to himself over the irony of it.

Ben looked round. " Ain't it break

fast time ? " he queried. " Where's

Maudlin ? "

Again Joe laughed—a dry, mirthless

laugh. " Maudlin's gone," he answered

simply. " And taken breakfast with

him."

A sudden distrust flashed into the sick

man's eyes, but Joe gripped him by theband, and in simple words explained what

had happened. " We' re up against it, Ben,"

he added. " I don't even know which end

we entered the lake, but I'll do my best to

pull us through. God help me. "

.He turned, and to his surprise saw a dark

figure standing behind him. It was Dingo !

Next moment the little man had the dog in

his arms. He knew that the animal's

instincts might help them out of the

awful predicament into which they had

fallen.

In ten minutes Dingo was harnessed into

the sled. Joe attached a line to one corner,

and laying his weight upon it shouted—" Mush, Dingo ! Now mush ! "-

The old dog responded faithfully. Side

by side they pulled the heavy sled over the

snow. All trails were blotted out, and Joe

was relying solely upon the dog.

All that day they travelled in a north

easterly direction. Noting this, Joe kept

his map handy, and was soon able to pick

up landmarks. Towards evening he stopped,

and laid the map on the snow. " We' re

here, Dingo," he cried joyously. " Here

on this unnamed creek. See—there's the

pine ridge shaped like the back of a

pickerel! " i

About an hour later Joe saw the marks

of snowshoes, at his feet. They were the

marks of Maudlin's snowshoes. Evidently

the snow had ceased to fall when his deserter

leached this place.

The marks became more distinct, and

presently beside them Joe saw another trail—•

the trail presumably of a grey wolf. What

could it mean ? The animal had sneaked

behind him, pausing when he paused,

skulking into cover when he turned.

Suddenly Joe stopped, staring horror-

stricken at the trail ahead. There, in the

snow, lay Maudlin—dead ! About his throat

and neck were the marks of fangs—his

face was gashed out of recognitionby

them.The ground all round was trodden flat

by the paws of a timber wolf. In Maudlin's

band was clenched a revolver, the chambers

of which contained six cartridges. One of

the six had been burnt.

" Poetic justice ! " muttered Joe, but at

that moment his eyes happened to rest upon

Dingo. The dog's gaze was fixed upon him,

and as their ej'es met the great brute came

skulking to his feet. Then Joe saw, across

the malamute's flank, the mark of a revolver

bullet.

There is no need to describe the remainder

of Joe's journeys. In the far north-west

you may often hear the tale told in detailover the Christmas fires. It is a tale

which will live on, and which deserves to

live.

All that night and all next day the man

and the dog toiled on over the waterways.

Thus, as the bells were ringing that Christmas

night at Port McTavish, the inhabitants

saw a little man and at his side a weary

malamute—toiling, toiling at the heavy sled

on which lay old Ben Rathall. The mala

mute's feet were cut and bleeding, and it

dragged one limb after another as though

possessed of a sleeping sickness—whining

and whimpering at every step. The little

man tottered and fell in the harness even as

they saw him, but as he struggled to hisfeet again, his eyes fixed upon the trail

ahead.

The little man is now a millionaire—he

and his partner, old Ben Rathall. They

long since ceased to work the mines away on

the Little Snake River, and are now living

in British Columbia—in the midst of that

glorious region of lakes and crystal rivers,

that extends on the west of the Kootenays.

With them lives an old lady who is never

tired of showing you her chicken pens, or

of presenting 1 you with golden eggs as a

sample of her productions.

[THE END.]

Floating Islands.

By WILLIAM J. CALLACHER.

MARINERS of old were often daunted

by the sight of islands in theocean, unmarked on any chart. A recordwas, of course, made by the observer, butlo, the next mariner could discover nothing !It was a real fact. Islands frequently sink and reappear ; so do rocks. We are wiserthan of old in much, and therein lies ourdearth of fancy. Not many new legendsare born. We continually re-dress the oldin new clothes ; but year succeeds to yearwithout one writer of the present creating anew item of lore or legend.

The legends of old have, within theircompass, much about fairy islands, and rockssuddenly uprisen from the heaving bosom

of old ocean. Various other writers whomay neither be called jocular nor playfulspeak seriously of them. The younger Plinytalks of Lake Vadimon, and its variousfloating islets. There are several verydifferent theories as to how these floatingislands originated. Some were formed,doubtless, by the lake overflowing and,

when it subsided, carrying with it portionsof the bank. These portions would be sointerlaced with weeds and fibrous matteras to hold together, and, in course of time,additions would grow. In due course aseed of a tree might be thrown by accidenton the mass, and in time to come a forestwould be the result of seeds dropped in thiswise. Such were the islands on the Catilianand Tarquinian meres.

Although the islands which were celebratedin the days of ancient Rome have disappeared, there are many islands to be seen onthe lakes of Europe. On the lake of Gerdau,in Germany, the largest of these is to beseen. Some hundreds of cattle graze on itspastures. The most beautiful is the islandupon the lake of Kolk, near the city of Osnabruck. There is a grove of lofty elmsupon the latter. In the North of France,on Lake St. Omer, are a number of movingislets, covered with a rich carpet of grass.

On the lakes and marshes of Comacchio,

there are several low, reed-covered islands.Similar floating islands are to be seen onmany of the Swedish lakes. Lake Ralangis one of these. It is remarkable for thefact that it is not permanent, but sinksoccasionally below the surface, reappearinglater on. An island of the same kind usedto be seen on Derwentwater, in Cumberland.This was formed of tangled water-plantsand was at least two feet in thickness fromits upper to its lower surface. It alwaysappeared in one spot, immediately opposite

where the waterfall of Catgill flows into thelake. A spring or current seemed to pressit from below. Sometimes jets of waterwould spout up from it. This force probablykept it at the surface, and, being intermittent, allowed it to sink again. Suchislands as these, appearing and disappearing,no doubt give force to what has been writtenabout fairy islands, and " islands of theblest."

Formerly there existed on Loch Lomond a" fairy isle." That, also, has disappeared.On various loughs in Ireland and theHighlands are to be seen floating islets,drifting masses of turf, or pea,t, and coveredwith grass or reeds ; but these floatingislands are formed on a much larger

scale on the immense rivers of Asia andAmerica.

In the vast delta through which theGanges and the Brahmapootra dischargetheir waters they are most numerous. Thedelta extends over eighteen thousand squaremiles, and the lower part of it consists of



Floating Islands. 213

muddy islands, intersected by the channelsof the two rivers.

On many old charts there appear spotsmarked with the word Vigia, a Portugueseexpression. It means " Be watchful," or" Look out ." Land has been seen in suchspots by some navigator, and others,doubtless, have passed the spot withoutseeing any. Many surmises have beenventured upon as to what deceived the eyesof those who saw land. Drifting islandsmust have been there, disintegrated massesfrom floating islands. Also it is said that

these phenomena point to a solution of thelong-vexed question as to how the islandsof the East Indian Archipelago receivedtheir store of animal life. Many a life-ladenislet may have travelled from the rivers of India and China, and after drifting aboutat sea, have been borne to the scatteredislands of the ocean, bringing with themreptiles, plants, and trees. Is there not amystery connected with the fact that inIreland and Scotland, from the earliestperiod—as evidenced by the lore of thesecountries—the mountain-ash, which figuresso largely in Scandinavian mythology, is mostabundant in these kingdoms ?

On the waters of the Amazon, the Orinoco,the Mississippi, there are numberless floatingislands. They are usually known as " rafts."For the most part they lie stationary oncalm creeks and bays. Sometimes, however,violent floods carry them away, and theypass into the Gulf of Mexico. Birds, serpents,and alligators are carried with them asevidence of their quiet rest on the upperpart of the river.

For the present we have only spoken of islands naturally formed ; but man has, insome quarters, successfully brought hisskill to bear on the subject, and " floatinggardens" make many rivers beautiful.The cities of Cashmere and of Mexico arebuilt on low-lying tracts of ground. Mexico

is surrounded by a lake, approached by longcauseways, constructed during the Aztec

dynasty. Cashmere stands on the shore of a lake, surrounded by marshes. In theneighbourhood of the city there was no land,but native skill came to the aid of theinhabitants. " Floating gardens " appearedin all the lakes, constructed of a great raftof wicker-work, two or three hundred feetlong, strong enough to support a great bedof rich earth.

The following from a weekly newspaper,dated November 12, 191.1, has a bearing onour subject:

" Birth of a new Island.—An Island hasarisen from the water in the Serpent's MouthStrait, between Trinidad and Venezuela.The phenomenon was preceded by extra

ordinary commotion in the sea, and hugecolumns of smoke and flames were seen.

* Instances of islands produced by volcanicaction are comparatively rare in recentyears. In 1831, one was suddenly formed inthe Mediterranean between Sicily and thecoast of Africa. There the sea had been,prior to the eruption, at least 100 feet deep.After signs of volcanic activity, and theaccumulation of cinders and ashes, a conerose out of the water to the height of 200 feet,so that the total elevation must have been300 feet. The part above water, however,consisted of scoriae and ashes, and wasgradually washed away, leaving a shoalknown as Graham's Reef. Readers of Lockhart's ' Life of Scott' will rememberthat Sir Walter, during his pathetic voyageto Italy in search of health, describes thisisland. A small volcanic island was thrownup in the Behring Sea, in 1790, being accom

panied by thunder, earthquake, and steam.It is called Bogoslof Island.

" One of the most recent occurrences of the

kind was in 1906, during the great earthquake in California, when the Perry Islandappeared. In the , following year, 1907,during one of the most extensive volcanic

eruptions in the world's history, a largeisland formed off the New Zealand coast.Permanent volcanic islands are verynumerous, especially in the Pacific. Etnaand Vesuvius were once volcanoes on thesea-floor. So were Teneriffe and the otherCanary Islands."

The floating islands, of which we firstspoke, in some cases disappear, and reappear.And this is how the recent news which wehave been quoting comes into our subject.

CHESS.

PROBLEM NO. 724.

BY H . F . L. MEYER.

] B L A C K . |

A B 0 D E F G H

| w i i i T K . ; 6 + —lu p i e c e s .

White to play and mate in three (3) moves.

JU-JITSU FOR SCHOOLBOYS.

in.

Th e " Tomoe -nage " met hod—thr owing an opponentforward by applying one 's foot on the other 's breast an d

by quickly kicking forward.

SOLUTION of No . 723. 1, P—B6, P + PJO ch. (or a). 2, K—B5, P—Kt5. 3,P + P , K +P. 4 , B—B2 mate, (a) P—Kt5.2, P—B7, etc.

The late Ph. Klett was one of the bestcomposers, as anyone will find who solves

and studies the following 14 problems byhim:

K G 8 ; L E I ; N B5; O B6 ; P A3,F4 . K D4 ; P D7, E4. { 3 .

K A4 ; N C3, F5 ; O C4 ; P D3, E2, F6.K D5 ; N A8; O B8 ; P C6, D7, F7. J4.

K B7 ; L El ; M E7, H4 ; P B3, E4.K H 6 ; N F 3 ; PB4,C6,E6,G5,G6,H5. %A.

K F4 ; M D3, H4 ; N B4, D7 ; P A2, A3,

D2 , E5. K A4 ; M A5, B5 ; P A6 , C7, D4.

K Fl ; L G4 ; O A4, H7 ; P E3, F2, H5.K E5 ; M D8 ; N F6 ; O B4 ; P D5, D8,E4, E7, G5. J4.

K H 5 ; L F 2 ; M D8 ; N D2, E8 ; O G7 ;P A2 , C3, G6. K D5 ; 0 C4, D6 ; P A3,A4 , B7, E5. $4.

K C7 ; L A3 : O E5, H5 ; P B4, B6, C2,D3, E2, H7. K E 6 ; M G4 ; O H3, H8;P E7, F2, F4, G3, G5. {4.

K A 1 ; L H4 ; N E4, H2 ; 0 E5 ; P A4,

B2 , F2, G6, H3. K D6 ; M D8 ; N C7 ; O

F 8 : P B4, B6, D7, E6, G7, H5, H6. J4.K B6 ; M A5, C3 ; N B2 ; O C7 ; P F3.

K D4 ; M G l ; N C6, G3 ; O B8 ; P D7,F4 . { 5 .

K HI ; M E2, G5 ; N C2, H6 ; O E5.K F 4 ; L B 7 ; M E7 ; N E 3 ; O D5 ; P G4,

H3. J5.K G7; M A4, G5 ; N C5, Fl ; P B4, B6,

E6, G2. K D 5 ; O E5 ; P B7, E7. J5.K A2 ; L B l ; M D4, F6 ; O B5, D7 ;

P F2. K D2 ; M H5 ; N H7, H8 ; 0 HI ;P A3, B6, D3, Do, E4, E6, G6. $5.

The one with the K at C7 was made aboutsixteen years ago, and is one of his 4 or 5 lastproblems, for he died in 1910 at the age of 77 years, and his book of 112 problemsappeared in 1878. His problems are rich in

fine variations, like those by Bayer, Berger,and Kohtz and Kockellorn. Klet t was of opinion that fine problems in more than 5moves could not well be made ; but long oneshave been made these 40 years by Reichhelm,Loyd, Shinkman, Blathy, and a few others.

Klett did not take much trouble withlittle problems in 2 moves, but here is one,which is not in his book, and which may beliked by those who wish to solve easyones :—K F7 ; L E3 ; N B5, C5 ; P A3.K D o ; O D 2 ; P B6, E5. }2 . Anothereasy one with 4 fine mates is : K G4 ; M H8 ;N E6, H6 ; P F6 ; H3. K G6 ; P H4, H7.J3.

Klet t sa ys: " The chess problem ispoetical mathematics or mathematicalpoetry. Like the game itself it cannot

claim during our lifetime either the depthof a science or the height of an art."

V* ^* V?

"A lot of the ordinary conversation that

goes on among boys, and older people too, isvery uninspiring. There may be nothingactually wrong or degrading in it, but thereis nothing to lift up, or to arouse higherfeelings and nobler aspirations. The wordsare empty because the minds are empty.If we often think of higher things, we shallnaturally speak of higher things, and otherswill be the better for our compa ny. I know

lads are shy in talking to one another aboutreligion ; but try to overcome that shynessand you will often find it is just what yourfriend was wanting you to talk about, only

he did not know how to open the subject.There is nothing so inspiring as a good talk with a friend about spiritual th ings."(From," Addresses to Boys and Boy Scouts,"by Rev. G. F. CECIL DE CARTERET.)



214 The "Boy's Obitn Taper.

B e t w e e n t h e T w o :A S T O R Y O F G R A M M A R S C H O O L L I F E .

CHAPTER XV. BOWNEY ENGAGES IN CHEMICAL RESEARCH.

By SERCOMBE GRIFFIN,

Author of " The Mad Tatheht," " A

Goorkha's Kookri," " The DumbChief," etc., etc.

ANY structuralalterations int he s c h o o l

buildings hadtaken place inthe course of years. Increasing prosperity—and sanitaryinspectors—•

had necessitated a new storey being added.The new storey had been divided intotwo rooms, reached by a spiral staircasefrom the lobby. That spiral staircase!Has any Old Boy forgotten it ? What

junior has failed to descend by the smooth

iron hand-rail from top to bottom, withmuch wear-and-tear to his nether garment,and with many anxious glances into thebig schoolroom, whose windows are passeden route ? But the spiral staircase lures usfrom the upper rooms, one of which was theclass-room of the English master, Mr. Stump,and the other constituted "The Lab.,"where " Stinks " were taught by "Gibbie " —that Mr. Gibson who had cut so sorry a

figure at Cyril Falkland's firework display.

Chemistry was not a compulsory subjectat the school at the time of which we write,but the majority of the Edwardians attendedthe classes. Very few boys could resist theattractions of mixing up chemicals, manufacturing unsavoury smells, and producing

loud explosions. Bowney was an exceptionto the general rule, however ; he never hadstudied " Stinks," and never should have—••to judge from the experiences about to berelated.

Bowney will be remembered as a distinguished member of the Sixth on the day of the great Paper-chase ; and as a farmer'sson, he was studying to follow in his father'sfootsteps.

In an evil moment a friend of the Bowney

family suggested that, in his opinion, a

knowledge of chemistry was essential to anup-to-date farmer. Bowney heard theremark, and armed with the words " chemical manures," insisted on enlightenment.Bowney was an easy last in the Sixth Form,but his size precluded him from being in anylower form.

Spite of all objections, Bowney got hisway, and chemistry was added to his list of subjects. Gallantly Bowney strove to acquireknowledge, particularly in the region of chemical manur es; gallantly Mr. Gibsonsought to impart information, on general

lines, with chemical manures as the finalsummum bonum. Being a Sixth Form boy,Bowney was allowed a certain latitude in hisstudy, and Mr. Gibson, after many futileefforts to instil elementary chemical facts,more or less let the farmer's son " wallow inhis ignorance "—as Mr. Gibson expressed it.

Bowney was not easily perturbed, and,spite of discouragements, persevered in hischemical endeavours. Chemical equations,according to Bowney, were things to belearnt by heart, and he would recite themtill the symbols got inextricably mixed,when he would give up in disgust, andattempt a little practical work.

One of his early experiments was to heat

manganese dioxide and potassium chloratein a tightly-corked test tube.

He did not repeat the experiment. Still,spite of several cuts on the hand, and afragment of glass in his right cheek, Bowney

gained some inkling of a gas named oxygen,

together with a wholesome respect for itspowers \J. combustion. As Mr. Gibson extracted the fragment of glass, he remarked:" This is the only way Bowney ever will getanything into his head."

One murky November afternoon the Sixthwere in the Lab. engaged in the analysisof a simple salt. Bowney, having foundlead, copper, antimony, potassium, andaluminium together with a phosphate, acarbonate, a tartrate and a citrate, was

disgusted at the apparent complexi ty of thesimple salt; and, tired of his analysis,started on a little original research on hisown account.

" Ah, my worthy alchemist Bowney,

simple salts are below your notice, are they ?Your superior mind soars to manures."

" Yes, sir," acquiesced Bowney, on whomMr. Gibson's sarcasm was wasted. " Phosphates are the principal things in manures,aren't they ? "

" I have not studied that branch of higherchemistry, but I believe, Bowney, that yourstatement is a correct one. "

" Do they make phosphates direct fromphosphorus, sir ? "

" You had better try, Bowney," said thechemistry master, still in a sarcastic vein." Ah, Armstrong—" and Mr. Gibson turnedto Donald, who was working at an adjoiningbench—" the Head Master would like to seeyou in his study at three-thirty ; I believe, inconnection with your forthcoming examination which, by the by, I think you will pass,spite of your somewhat limited mental gifts."

Armstrong was uneasy at the prospectof an interview with Dr. Sanders, for he didnot expect that it concerned the ScholarshipExamination.

Nor did it." Well, Armstrong," said the Head Master,

pacing to and fro, hands clasped behind hisback, as was his custom when agitated," Brice has returned to school this afternoonfor the first time since his accident."

" Yes , sir, I saw him, and he seems quiterecovered," said Armstrong quietly.

" Possibly so, possibly no t; but be thatas it may, I wish to remind you that theperpetrator of the cruel joke that causedso serious an injury to Arthur Brice is notyet discovered. Armstrong, have you hadany confirmation of the suspicion you entertained ? "

" None whatever, sir."" Armstrong, I am almost inclined to force

you to tell me the name of your suspect."" Yes, sir," said Armstrong politely, but

there was passive resistance in his look.

" Cannot you prove your suspicions to beeither false or true ? " asked the HeadMaster, making a mental note of the war-light in the boy's eyes.

" I have discovered nothing definite, sir,else I would have kept my word, and come

and told you."" Then, Armstrong, you refuse to take me

into your confidence ? "

" I refuse to mention to you, sir, what maybe an unjust suspicion."

" I have a high opinion of your honesty of purpose, Armstrong," said Dr. Sanders," though I fear you have faulty conceptionsof your duty. Good afternoon."

Armstrong left the study in no amiableframe of mind ; perhaps, after all, he wasmaking a mountain out of a mole-hill.Perhaps, it would be better for the affair tobe cleared up, better that his suspicions belaid before the Head Master. But

He returned through the big schoolroom,

up the spiral staircase, through the Englishmaster's room, to the door of the Lab. Ashe opened the door, dense white fumes camewreathing out.

What had happened ?Bowney, still full of his scheme for making

phosphates direct from phosphorus, hadtaken the opportunity, while Mr. Gibson wasexamining Dawson's salt for an allegedimpurity, to quietly step across to a shelf where the phosphorus jar stood, and stealback with the fiery element to his bench.



"Betbefeen the Tbvo. 215

Now for his experiment! Had not Mr.Gibson told him to " try and make phosphates from phosphorus " ?

Bowney's chemical deductions I dare notrecord, suffice to say that the boy haddecided that a mixture of phosphorus andstrong nitric acid would produce phosphatesand nitrates, ready for the fields. Surely thiswould be a quick process ; " Bowney 'sChemical Manures" would soon become

famous, and be used through the length andbreadth of the land.

Huniset saw Bowney chopping with apocket-knife at what the onlooker imaginedto be a rounded stick of wood; the wood

seemed too tough to cut.Suddenly there was a burst of flame. Dense

white fumes poured out in great suffocatingblasts, and little streaks of fire ran along,and down, the bench,setting fire to an exercise book, some notes,a n d an elementaryc h e m i s t r y treatise.There was a crackle asof burning wood, thebench was afire.

It all happened sovery "quickly. Mr. Gib

son, remembering, perhaps, the experiencegained in the Falklands'summer-house, rushedup with a bowl of waterthat happened to behandy.

The water seemed butto add fuel to theflames. The stick of phosphorus was flaringaway gaily as if itmeant to burn downthe school.

Mr. Gibson, though,

as we have seen, he hadmany unpleasant qualities, was not lacking ina virtue common to allEnglishmen worthy of the name — he hadcourage.

There was not a moment to spare. As theflaming phosphorus laythere, sending out rivulets of fire, and eatingits burning way in alldirections, Mr. Gibsoncalmly grasped theburning stick, held ittightly, and rushedwith it in his hand to

the water trough, wherehe turned the tap on theburning element and hisown burnt hand.

As he ran to the watertrough, he shouted tothe boys to avoid thefumes, which filled the whole laboratorywith so dense a cloud that it was impossibleto see across the room. Out of thewindows, suddenly thrown open, the boys

leaned gasping, Dawson rushing to open thedoor into the English master's class-room,and thus create a draught to drive out thenoxious vapour.

It was at this juncture that Armstrongentered. He rushed to a bench, and soaked

his handkerchief in water ; and with the wethandkerchief pressed over mouth and nose,proceeded to make a rapid investigation.

Close by the water trough he saw a figureprone upon the floor. Th e agony of theburnt hand was beyond endurance; Mr.Gibson had fainted.

The poisonous fumes soon cleared, driven

out by the draught between windows anddoor, at which latter spot stood Mr. Stump,terrified.

An anxious circle of boys gathered roundthe prostrate form of Mr. Gibson, whileMr. Stump shouted directions from thedoorway, where he held in check a curiousclass who had forgotten discipline in theexcitement of the moment.

Dawson was bathing the chemistrymaster's forehead with water, while Armstrong was loosening his collar and necktie,when there was a flicker of the patient'seyelids.

" . . . nuisance," he murmured, andthen, becoming more fully conscious, " theboy Bowney . . . phosphates of ni . . .Ah, olive oil if you please, Armstrong, in thecupboard by the balances. And limewater,

Thus spake Bowney; and Dr. Sanders,following close on the heels of Armstrong,at once came flying upstairs to collect suchfragments of his Sixth Form as might beremaining.

" To your places ! " he thundered, as hesaw the frightened English class huddledin the passage leading to the laboratory.

The English class fled to their desks. It

is my firm convictio n they would have satthere, if Sandy commanded it, with the school

burning beneath them, and the King of England ordering them to depart. Suchwas Dr. Sanders' power.

The Head Master walked up to Mr. Gibson,who sat at his desk deadly pale and withqueer little twitchings of his face thatseemed strangely at variance with thematter-of-fact remarks he was making. But

H e turned the tap on the burning element and his own burnt hand." (^Jf

please, Dawson, to p shelf left-hand corner. . . Thanks."

When phosphorus is burning awaybeneath your finger-nails, it is not easy to becalm; but, somehow, Mr. Gibson achievedthe difficult feat, and not only so, but endeavoured to improve the occasion by a fewremarks. " Yo u observe, boys, that theoil and water is mixed to form an emulsioncommonly known as carron oil, the most

useful preparation for applications to burns.Who can give me the symbol for those whitefumes ? Bowney, where are you ? "

Bowney had fled to the Head Master togive information against himself, saying hehad b lown up the Lab. , killed Mr. Gibson,and suffocated all the boys in the SixthForm—except four who didn't do " Stinks."

let the reader have a fragment of pureyellow phosphorus burrowing its way underthe finger-nails, and he will realise thefeelings of Mr. Gibson.

" A little mishap, I presume, Mr. Gibson,"saidt heHeadM aster . " Pray don't continueyour lecture ; I will take over control of theclass for the present ."

Mr. Gibson got upon his feet to say thatthere was practically nothing much amiss,

but he tumbled into a heap before hefinished his statement.The chemistry master was conveyed to the

hospital in a cab : immediate attention wasimperative. It was said that Mr. Gibsondid not get a wink of sleep for three daysand nights, until the last fragments of phosphorus had burnt themselves out.



216 The "Boy's Oban Paper.

For the first time in his career, Mr. Gibsonwon the admiration and esteem of his pupils ;and in days to come when he was mostexacting and most irritating, owing to hismisconceptions of the boys' feelings, it was

recalled to his credi t " how plucky ' Gibbie 'was over the phosphorus bust-up."

It was ten days before Mr. Gibson returnedto his duties, his hand still swathed in muchoil and lint. He strolled into morning school

in his superior way, chin in air, ignoring thescuttling schoolboys who were settling intotheir places ready for roll-call. Dawsonlooked at Mr. Gibson, and then at Dr.Sanders, who stood turning over the leavesof the register preparatory to calling over

the names. The Head Master interpreted hishead monitor's glance aright, and noddedan assent.

" Three cheers for Mr. Gibson ! " shoutedDawson, and the old schoolroom rang withhearty boyish applause till the lion's headcast in the alcove shook with the sound.

Mr. Gibson, at the onset, looked up—orperhaps it would be more correct to say,down, at the noisy youngsters.

They were looking at him. He could donothing to quell this riotous outburst, it

was the duty of Dr. Sanders who—but stay,what words had Dawson shouted out ?Slowly it dawned on the chemistry masterthat they were cheering him—HIM !

It was a new, quite unique, exper ience forthe unpopular science master.

" What strange creatures boys are," hemuttered sotto voce, as he stepped up on to theplatform of his desk, and sank, self-effacing,back into his chair . It was a strange sensation being cheered by the boys; he heardthe echo die away with something like atwinge of regret. It really was kind of thelittle boys to appreciate his efforts on theirbehal f; he must try and understand theirfunny little ways and thoughts.

So it came to pass that Bowney, quite

unwittingly, gave ^Mr. Gibson a helpinghand—as well as a burnt one. It was thestarting-point of a more sympatheticattitude on the part of Mr. Gibson, so that,in time to come, he nearly became a popularmaster. Indeed, Mr. Gibson became aspopular as it is possible for a master tobecome, who has never been initiated intothe Freemasonry of Boy Life.

CHAPTER XVI. " THE BLACK HOLE OPCALCUTTA."

IN recording the chemistry master'sreturn to school, we have run ahead of our story, and must retrace our steps a week or so.

Little Arthur Br ice's appearance at

school was almost unnoticed, owing to theexcitement raised by the Lab. incident.The juniors of the Third Form, however,convened an indignation meeting, to be heldin " The Black Hole of Calcutta."

No boy ancient, old or young, who hashad the good fortune to attend King Edward'sSchool, needs to have " The Black Hole "described. Since, however, there are thoseunfortunates who have not had the privilegesof an Edwardian, I will describe that placeof ill-omened name. Half-way up the steps,leading from the " Underground" to theLobby, there is a rectangular turn in the

stairway. If you continued following yournose, instead of taking the turn, it would

be unfortunate for the nose, for you would

meet a blank stone wall ; but to your rightyou would note, granted that the injuriesto your face had been slight, a yawninghole. No doubt there had once been a

flight of steps at this point leading to cellarsin the other part of the buildings, but

that portion was now used as the private

premises of the head master, while thespace where the steps had been, was walledup, leaving a dismal, paper-strewn pit abouttwelve feet long by four feet broad, lightedonly by the open space above, which wasabout four feet by four, the greater portionof the Hole penetrating under the upperportion of the steps to the lobby.

Few new boys escaped being " dumped "into " The Black Hole " during their first

week at King Edward's School, while theirtyrant stood guarding the only avenue of escape some six feet above ; and even whentheir tyrant retired, terra firma was only

reached by a desperate scramble, with onetoe in a hollow worn by successive generations of juniors, and the other spurning thepapery depths below, while the handsclawed at the cold stones above. Oneprisoner in the Hole was bearable, but afavourite recreation of certain bullies wasto continue dropping small boys into " TheBlack Hole" until it was full to overflowing.

Webber once remarked : " One in theHole made of it a mere Castle of Chillon, butwhen twenty were herded there, it justifiedits name as ' The Black Hole of Calcutta ! ' "

However, bullies were not in vogue at thetime of which I write, and " The Black Hole" was chiefly used as a committeeroom where conspirators could discuss theirdeep designs.

Terry O'Brien and " Bobs," fellow-class

mates of Brice, chose this place as therendezvous for such as desired to considersteps to avenge the injury done to theirworthy friend. To the surprise of his intimates in the Third, Cyril Falkland seemedunwilling to join the gathering, but agreedto " keep Cave" at the customary spot,half-way up the steps from the Underground.

The duties pertaining to Cyril's positionwere not very onerous; you negligentlylounged about, holding a book before your

eyes, and apparently taking no interest inaught besides, but all the time you had eyesand ears open to prevent spies overhearingand upsetting the plans of the conspiratorsbelow.

At 12.5 P.M. Cyril might have been seenhovering in the vicinity of The Black Hole,seemingly deeply interested in his LatinGrammar—a closer inspection would haverevealed the fact that the book was beingheld upside down, and its " reader " glancingfurtively over the top of it.

Terry came rushing downstairs from thebig schoolroom : " Anyone about ? "

" There was only a cat down there, and

I've chased her out ," replied Cyril, who,before acting sentry, had to see that TheBlack Hole was prepared to receive visitors.

Terry disappeared with a mighty jump intothe depths below.

" Bobs," to give him the only name bywhich he was known to his schoolfellows,strolled up the steps from the undergroundplayground. (The reader has met himbefore, but as it was only for a moment o,rtwo, we may as well recall the fact thatBobs was a pugnacious Third-Form youthwith a snub-nose, red cheeks, and ruffled redhair.) As if by accident, Bobs collided withCyril.

" Beastly sorry," remarked the formerloudly, adding in an undertone : " Coastclear ? "

" Terry's below," was the muffled response." Look sharp. I hear some one coming."

Thirty seconds later, Huniset came bounding up the steps, and nearly knocked over

a boy diligently studying a Latin Grammar ;no one else was in sight.

" Prenez garde I you young swotter,"cried the new-comer. " Get out of thelight."

" Can't read in the dark," retorted Cyril,beating a temporary retreat.

In the Black Hole, Terry and Bobs foundtime hang heavy on their hands, so theypassed the time by making feints at eachother's nose in a friendly, quiet way. Itwas unfortunate that Huniset delayed thearrival of the remaining conspirators ; for

when, at length, Peters sprawled spread-eagle amongst the paper and rubbish of TheHole, Terry and Bobs were locked in deadlyembrace fighting furiously.

. {To be continued.)



Hote> to MaKe a "Boy's Obvn DcfOenport. 217

4 4 T DEMAND satisfaction, sir I "—the Lieutenant's

face was red,—

" I know you are my superior, but— " —*' Rsgnt,*'

the General said,

" I'll waive my rank, since you needs must fight; but

see, my gallant bold,

Th e choice of the weapons lies with m e ; to that I

strictly hold.

I 'm not as young as you b y half ; an old wound

hampers me;

But I've hit on a wa y that makes it fair f or both, if

yo u agree."

Th e other nod ded stiffly; he was too much enraged

to see

That the General's eyes were twinkling, as he went on

quie t ly:

" —O n a barrel of powder, then, sir, each of us two

will sit—"

Hi s oppo nent stepped back quickly, as if he had been

hit—

" With a lighted fuse in the bung-hole, and he will have

wo n the day,

Wh o sits on his keg the longest, and does not run

away."

" —Madness 1 " the youn g man mu ttered, and his

face looked drawn and white,

" It*s for me," said the General grimly, " to say ho w

we two shall fight.

It may be an odd way of settling this small dispute,

but 'mind,

There's this, sir, in its favour, i t won't take long,

you'll find."

A QUEER DUEL.B Y S H E I L A E . B R A I N E .

Th e duel bega n, and the General smo ked and nu rsed

his leg,

Hi s seat might hare been a sofa, and not ap o wd er keg.

Opposite him the Lieutenant shivered and caught his

breath,

Fo r the fuses were slowiy burning, and close at hi s

side s tood D e a t h !

Great beads bedewed his forehead ; he could not ,—

he would not die !

A minute more ' twould be over , and the barrels blown

sky-high I

Down from his seat of peril he sprang, to rush away ;

Loud was the General' s chuckle, as he called to h im

to stay.

" Don't go, lad 1 Faith of a soldier, I tell you there's

no need ;

It isn' t powder, bless y o u ; i t 's only onion seed!

Di d ye think I'd let the regiment lose such a pair as

us ?

Come, make it up, Lieutenant, it 's time to en d th is

fuss.

I 'm sorry to have vexed you ; y o u 'v e been pretty

brave, I'll say ;

If / hadn't kno wn what I sat on , I guess I 'd have

run away ;

A.nd sooner—ha ha,—than you did ! " His opponent

paused a while,

'Twas a bit of a struggle, tr uly, ere he could forgive,

—and smile.

But to stand there alive was something; and here

m y story ends,

Fo r over a keg of onion seed the two shook hands—

as friends.

^ ~& ^

How to Make a Boy's Own

Davenport,

By GEORGE P. MOON.

THE little writing-table or Davenport you

see illustrated in figs. 1 and 2, is justthe very thing for a boy fond of scribbling to

own and be proud of. To purchase one

would mean anoutlay of about two and ahalf guineas ; but it is quite possible for us to

make one for ourselves at a very small cost;

and, if we are careful and do our level best

to produce good work, the article should give

us a great deal of satisfaction.

We propose constructing it of canary wood,

which gives a very good surface; and it isalso cheap, which is another desirable

characteristic—isn't it ? Canary wood f in.

thick is threepence a square foot. We shallneed wood of this thickness.

The article is meant to be ebonised, so the

fact of its being made of inexpensive materialwon't matter a jot.

The Davenport is really a desk on four

legs; the upper surface, or flap, is hinged,and on raising it the interior of the desk is

visible, which contains, at the back portion,

pigeonholes or small divisions for paper,envelopes, etc.

The elevated back is really an ornamentaladdit ion; but it is one which adds so greatlyto the handsome appearance of the tablethat I don't think any idea to simplify labour

should cause you to discard it as a superfluity.Now let us get to work.

We shall begin with the legs. The front

ones are 2G in. long ; the back 27 j in. Allmeasure 1-J in. square at the top, and f in.at the bottom, for, as you will not ice in the

illustrations, the legs taper as they run to

the floor.So we must buy for these legs 4 pieces of

canary, say '2\ ft. long and If in. wide andbroad, to allow for the planing.

We first of all use our jack plane and

plane down each leg till it is 1§ in. square.Then we saw it the required length. Thefront and shorter legs have a slanting top,

the front side being A in. less than the back

(fig. 3); and the reason for this is becausethe desk top is not horizontal.

The tapering commences 5 in. from the

top end of the shorter legs, and 6 | in. from

the top end of the longer.

As a guide to us during this operation we

pencil a f -in. square at the bottom of the

leg in the middle, as fig. 4 illustrates; and

plane down on the four sides of the wcod

till this square is reached, which will insureus doing the business properly.

When the legs are completed to our satisfaction, being nicely smoothed on all sidesand all of the same thickness, we thenprepare them for the attachment of theboards which form the sides of the desk.

And this will take some care.

For we have to make a mortise or recess

on two fa^es of each leg, as you will notice

on referring to fig. 5,which represents thetop of one ; such mortises being designed to

take the ends of the desk sides.

Beginning with the back legs, we take one

and draw a pencil line J in. from and parallelwith one of the edges, commencing at the

top end, and another J in. distant fromthe first (fig. 6), both being 4^ in. long.

These lines are then connected, at theirtermination and J in. from their beginning,

thus marking out a space 3J in. long and

£ in. wide.

N E X T W E E K

will commence a new humorous seriesentitled

"PIP'S DIARY,"By FRANCIS M A R L O W E ,

with Illustrations by ERNEST

BLAIKLEY.



The SKv Cruise of the " Kestrel." 219

fatal to a satisfactory control* The onlyroad likely to lead to success is that takenby the aeroplanist, though, at present, hisship is far from fully developed. Whileunembarrassed by the huge gas-holder, andsustained by its own power of flight, it ismore easily manoeuvred, and under theguidance of skilful hands, will turn adversewinds to its advantage. Even supposing thatsufficient propelling power is ever adapted

to the gas balloon, to enable it to travel in theface of the wind, there must, in such a case,be an extravagant expenditure of energy.

" But I mustn't lecture," broke off theaeronaut, " there are other interests at hand."

At that moment Claud, who had beenscanning the world below, cried out excitedly:" Just look at those people ! I believe theyare waving a white flag."

He pointed to the brow of a distant hillwhere a group of black dots could be madeout, with a white dot flashing to and froamong them. A moment later, faint soundswere heard, and it became clear that theappearance of the Kestrel was creatingsome interest among the denizens of theearth. But this knowledge did not prepare

James and Claud for the scene which presently greeted their gaze.As the balloon topped the last-mentioned

hill, the valley beyond seemed to be filledwith people. The roar of their welcome brokeon the car in such a wave of sound that itstwo younger occupants at least were qui tedisconcerted, but through their confusionthere suddenly broke the words of comman d:

" Furl the sails and lash them home ! "The two lieutenants flew to their task.

With nimble fingers they whipped out thebamboo canes, let down the silken sails witha run, and coiled them round the suspensionropes.

Swiftly as the act was carried out, it wasnot completed before the Kestrel haddescended to within two hundred feet of theground. The encompassing mountains wereclimbing rapidly skywards; the pigmytown, so recently looked down upon, wasspreading and growing to quite dignifiedp 'oportions, while the tiny dots of humanitywere all hurrying excitedly to one spot.

When the boys turned their eyes for amoment from this animated scene, it was tosee Captain Gaskell standing with the valveline in one hand and a small bag of ballast inthe other.

" Mind ! " said he. " Neither of you mustleave the car until I give the word."

He dropped the valve line as he spoke andgrasped another hanging beside it, andcontinued :

" This, as perhaps you know, is at tached

to the ripping flap and immediately on thebasket touching the ground I shall pull i t,allowing all the remaining ga3 to escape at

" once, and thus avoid any rebound. Now, holdon to steady yourselves, and keep your wits. "

In a whirl of strange emotions the boysturned to obey. With placid faces, yetfluttering hearts, they gazed upon the crowdbeneath ; but in another moment they foundit hard indeed to keep Captain Gaskell'slast comman d. For there, among that eagershouting crowd, watching the descendingcar with a silent anxiety, stood their fatherand mother.

A gasp of bewilderment escaped theirlips. Their eyes grew round with wonder ;but before words were possible a shout from

the Captain changed the current of theirthoughts. In another instant, a dozenarms were uplifted by the nearest of thecrowd, and a dozen hands seized the ropesthat festooned the outside of the car.There was a bump that shook the teeth inthe youn g aeronauts' heads ; a heavy sighas the last particle of gas escaped, and a huge

cloud of silk spread itself softly out on theground beside the car. The sky cruise of theKestrel had come to an end.

Almost before the two worthy travellers,for whose delight it had been mainly taken,could realise the fact, they found themselvesthe subjects of a welcome which would havebeen embarrassing had their powers of comprehension been in a less disturbed state.As it was, James and Claud submitted to

parental embraces in perfect silence, and itwas not until matters had quieted downconsiderably that they asked for explanations. These were entirely satisfactory,particularly as they included the announcement that the rest of their holidays were tobe spent in Cumberland.

Ready and willing hands assisted CaptainGaskell in hauling home the pilots, which stillsailed aloft, and " do ck in g" the Kestrel.An hour after landing, the latter had beenfolded neatly up and, together with the car,was ready for transit by rail as soon as theCaptain himself decided to return south.This, however, he did not intend doing forsome days, much to the delight of his recenttravelling companio ns.

It is no matter for wonder that the adventures of the new arrivals furnished the principal topic of conversa tion among the guestsof the hotel for some little time. The worthyCaptain came in for a certain amount of hero-worship, not entirely to his satisfaction.

Such little trials, however, he had the good

sense to bear with all possible equanimity anddid not even take umbrage when his ownfamiliar friend " found it necessary to expressin public an appreciation of his achievement.

It was towards the close of dinner thatevening, all the guests being assembled attable, that James and Claud became suddenly engaged in a whispered discussion of great animation. The contest was shortand sharp, and ended in James suddenlyturning to his father with an intimation thathe wished to make a private and confidentialcommunication.

" Go on, I'm listening," said Mr. Frost,bending down an attentive ear.

" Well, pater," stammered James, " Ican't spout myself, but Captain Gaskell wasawfully kind to Claud and me, and we shouldboth be glad if you would say something.Anything will do."

Whereupon pater rose, and amid a littleclatter of welcome proceeded to " say something ." He informed the assembled com

pany of many aeronautical feats performedby his friend, of which they were never likelyto hear from the gentleman himself ; and hetold the story of his most recent achievement, pointing out the accuracy of the calculations made. Finally, to his sons' confusion,he expressed the pleasure it gave him to havebeen appointed the ambassador for convey

ing to the Captain a message of the sincerestgratitude from those upon whom he had bestowed an ever-to-be-remembered pleasure.

The aeronaut's reply was unsatisfactorilyshort.

" To say more about myself," he began," than has already been said, would, I feel,be not only satiating to the company, butlikely to damage my reputation ; for, as my

friend Mr. Frost has said all the good thatcan be said, anything further must, of necessity, refer to the ' reverse of the medal.'Vanity, therefore, bids me be silent, andyour charity will forgive me. I should like,however, to point out that in no vehicle, on thoearth or off the earth, is it so essential thatour travelling companions be intelligent,obedient, and level-headed, as in the car of aballoon. I should be more than content if Icould always be sure of such fellow-travellersas those who have just accompanied me in adelightful flight from Kent to Kesw ick."

Whereupon, under the loud artillery of applause, the recent crew of theA'asfo'eZexhibitedan embarrassment by no means habitual withthem. This, they explained later, was dueto the fact that they had not expected thatCaptain Gaskell would return the fire so soo \.

[THE END.]



220 The "Boy's Otetn Paper.

D i c k s o n ' s Knife.( A T R A G E D Y O F C O N F I S C AT I O N . )

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Out-of-doors Boy.

A\r. Weasel at Home.

mHAT weasels are one of the mostJL destructive animals on our gamereserves in this country every b oy knows,and one who has watched aweasel at work can fully realise that they are capable of doing immense damage. In spite of theirvery short legs and diminutive size, theseanimals are able to move about with wonderful speed and quickness, and when once theyhave started to follow a trail they do notforsake it till the kill is accomplished.

When a weasel enters a rabbit warren, however, he does not do so with the intention of killing the first rabbit he comes upon. He

•devotes all his attention to one rabbit,following it by scent from burrow to burrowand taking no heed of the many other rabbitsthat cross his path. Very soon he runsthe unfortunate one down; for,when followed

by one of these dreadful killers, rabbitsseem to realise at once that their fate issealed, and make but a feeble attempt toescape. Indeed, they seem to be so overcome with terror that after the first sprintthey often make no attempt to escapewhatever, merely crouching and screamingwhile the weasel approaches without hasteand puts an end to tlieir fears.

A few weeks ago I was seated by a smallriver on the far side of which were a numberof boulders of rock where rabbits abounded.It was a line day, so I was somewhat surprised when presently I saw a very wet anddejected-looking coney limping down theriver-side towards the boulders. He came

A T E R R O R O F T H E C O U N T R Y S I D E .

slowly and painfully as though si ck; so,realising what was wrong, I cocked my gunand remained motionless, determined tosee the proceedings through.

Listening at every step the dejectedrabbit at length reached the rocks anddragged himself limply into one of the holes.The very next moment I saw a little yellow

creature bounding do wn the river-side at aquick pace in pursuit of the unhappy rabbit.Of course it was a weasel, and at the mouth

of the burrow it paused and looked at me,though even then the brute did not abandonthe hunt, but shot into the hole after therabbit. Almost at the same moment Iheard the familiar "thud-thud" of arabbit's hind legs underground, and to mysurprise six rabbits shot out from variousopenings almost simultaneously, and boltedfor fresh cover. The wet rabbit came outabout a minute later, and crouched in thegrass, while a few seconds after it appearedthe weasel, still travelling at top speed.The rabbit made no further attempt toescape, and as I knew well what wouldhappen to the hypnotised creature if I didnot interfere, I put the weasel out of action.

Both weasel and rabbit must have crossed

the river during the chase, as they weresaturated, which shows that a weasel willnot stop at anything when following a trail.

Not only will weasels kill hares and rabbits,but nothing of flesh and blood they candrag down comes amiss to them. Young gamebirds such as grouse, pheasants, partridges,

By H. MORTIMER

BATTEN.

they are particularly partial to, and untilthe birds are fledged they stand no chancewhatever of getting away. The worst of it is that the weasel does not only kill whathe requires for food; but, finding himself in the midst of a brood, he kills left and rightout of sheer ferocity, leaving the poorcreatures untouched where they have fallen.Eggs and even carrion are also acceptablefare—indeed the weasel is so impartial asto what he eats that almost any bait will

entice him, and fortunately he is very easyto trap.Weasels can approach their prey success

fully on ground where there would hardlyseem enough cover to conceal a field-mouse.Where there are mole runs they are verymuch at home, and by means of these runsthey can often approach coveys of partridgesor other game in pasture or fallow land.

It does not follow that though there maybe no weasels in a certain country one yearthere will be none the next. I know akeeper who exterminated practically allthe vermin on his reserves, but one morninghe was surprised to find that scores of weasels had put in an appearance on oneof his moors. There had been no weaselsthere a week ago but now the place wassimply overrun with them. In a week,however, they were all gone again, much tohis relief.

From May till September weasels oftenroam the country in large bands, travellingfrom one part to another. The young



222 The "Boy's Otvn Paper.

(four or five in number) are born in the earlyspring, and the family hunt together tillthey are full grown. In districts wherethey are very common several families willoften combine, thus forming quite a largeband, and when united thus they will attack almost anything. Calves and lambs havebeen known to be killed by them, and caseshave even occurred of bands of weaselsattacking a man. I could quote severalcases of this having happened, but one in

particular came before my notice a yearago.

A Yorkshire farmer was crossing a moor

with his dog, when he saw a weasel runningaway from him with a meadow-pip it inits mouth . He at once gave chase, intendingto kill the animal with his stick, but greatwas his surprise when it crouched, and hesaw several other weasels approaching himfrom different sides, each chirping angrily.It was clear that they meant business; butthe farmer stood his ground, and during thenext few minutes he and the dog togetherkilled eighteen weasels! The dog wasbadly bitten, and smelt so abominably that

it was several days before they could againallow it to enter the house.

The weasel can climb like a squirrel andswim like a rat. It is smaller and evenmore ferocious than the stoat. The back colour is clear reddish brown, but its purewhite front often betrays its presence whendusk comes on. At this time of day theanimals are fond of sitting bolt upright andlistening, and as they keep perfectly motionless when seated thus, and sometimes

remain for minutes together, it requireskeen eyes to see them. The trained eye isquick to mark them down, however. In verycold weather weasels often turn pure white.

Though easy to trap, the weasel is notso easy to shoot as one would think,especially when at work in a wall. Theyhave litt le fear of a gun shot, and poppingtheir heads out of a cranny just give themarksman time to put up his gun and takeaim, instantly drawing back as he pressesthe trigger. I once wasted nine cartridges atthis tantalising business, but the tenth timethe weasel remained an instant too long, andpaid the full penalty of playing with fire.

laddies been ? " he immediately questioned." Here's Haggis and me (to say no' a wordabout Bannock) returned at breakfasttime to find no' a single body at'the camp.No' that time has been wasted, for we would

have rested till dinner in any case. But it 'sfoolish tiring yoursel's like this when there'shard work before you. Pleasure is all verywell "

" We've been on no pleasure trip," interrupted Air with a sad smile. " It has been

anything but pleasure to Arnold and me."Thereupon, Holden immediately launched

into the story of his adventure and hischum's—a tale that was listened to withsilent surprise both by Mackintosh and thehalf-breed, who had come out from the tentand stood attentively apart.

" Well, well," the Scotsman commented atthe close, " these are stirring times for youboys. There's no ' a bit o ' doot aboot'that." Then he added seriously : " ButI'm thinking we'll no' be able to wait hereower long. We must set oot at once. I kensomething o' this Indian legend o' water-spirits, and I ken something o' Indian waysas well. There's evil things that will bedoing if we canna stop them."

" Did you find out anything while you wereaway with Haggis ? " questioned Bob.

" A bit. Wo found the tracks o' bootsas well as moccasins, and we followed farenough to learn that they had gone to theDacotah village. Then we came back tofetch you laddies. And I found four grandspecimens for my collection! Real finethey are—such as will make my britherentomologists in Edinburgh open theireyes as big as Duddingston Loch when theysee them. But there—I must be daft tobe thinkin' o ' moths at such a time. See,Haggis ! Hurry on wi' the denner ! We'll

be striking the camp, for we must mak'straight for Pleasant Valley wi'oot delay."

The speaker was all bustle and hurry now;and as the boys followed to render assistance,Bob asked :

" Pleasant Valley ? But did you not saythat they were at the Dacotah village ? "

" Of course I did. But I said were,

not are. Did you no' attend to what yourfreend said : that Red Fox told him thatMighty Hand would leave for Pleasant Valley

by another sun ? That's the day. "

" Oh, I see. Then you mean to go theredirect ? "

" Exactly. I ken something o' thatPleasant Valley. There's no ' a verra pleasantlook aboot it noo—a desert o' a place—allcrags and sand, wi' just a pickle o' trees.It's a branch arm o' the Athabasca, and hasbeen a torrent at some flood-time—the timethat probably started the legend. But

there's no' been ony stream flowing therein the recollection o' living man. But— "and the naturalist was predominant for theinstant—" there are rare kinds o' hawk moth to be found in that same desert !You'll be seeing the value o' my phosphorusinvention before another couple of nightsare out."

The boys laughed as the man's enthusiasmcame suddenly uppermost, to the exclusionof (to their minds) a subject of more vitalimportance.

" I do believe, Skipper, that you would

sooner capture a rare beetle than be aNapoleon ! " laughed Bob, to which thenaturalist replied with scorn, as he indicatedthe lads to take the opposite end of the tent

to roll: '" Beetle ! What do you take me for—a

coleopterist ? Ma conscience, laddie!these insects are no interest to me. Iwouldn't touch one with a pair o' tongs.It' s moths and butterflies for SkipperMackintosh—the dainty fluttering things

CHAPTER XVIII.—HOT ON THE TEAIL.

IT was a happy meet ing for the two

chums after the exciting events thateach had experienced. But it was rathersad, all the same; for even in their joy atfinding how both had come through theirtrials with but little damage, they could notbut regret the tragic end to poor Red Fox.

" He was a high-tempered chap," saidArnold, when he had listened to his friend'sstory. " All the same, he must have hadsome good in him, since he was so com

pletely changed at the end."

" He seemed sorry enough," Alf rejoined." And I must say that I feel wretchedlysorry about the whole thing. In a way itwas my fault—making the remarks that Idid. It never occurred to me that he would

understand a word—— "

" As apparently he did. H o w e v e r > •*can't be helped now. No doubt he hadsome evil purpose all along, or he wouldn'thave come to us with that lie about beingsent by your father and mine."

" At the same time it has taught me alesson," said Alf. " I guess I'll keep myopinions to myself next time, when they

are so uncomplimentary.""Just as well," Bob agreed seriously.

Then, turning to the dead Indian : " We've

got to lay that poor redskin to rest. Iwonder how we are to manage it ! "

" We can't dig "' And we can't leave the body uncovered.

The FieryT o t e m :

A T A L E O F A D V E N T U R E

I N T H E

C A N A D I A N N O R T H - W E S T .

By ARGYLL SAXBY, M.A.,F.R.G.S.,

Author of "Braves,White and Red," "Call of Honour,"

" Comrades Three 1 " " Toviak," " Tangled Trails,"

etc., etc.

The wolves would work mischief in notime."

" How would it be if we were to lay himin that little hollow and cover him with bigstones ? " suggested Holden. " There areplenty of boulders about, and we could

easily cover him with branches first, withstones on the top to keep off the animals."

" Right," Bob said ; and together the ladsgently raised the Indian's body and placedit in a little flower-scented hollow that,after all, was a fitting bed to receive theroyal dead—quite as fitting as a dark pit.Then they cast maple branches over it, andcarried boulders until a substantial moundwas raised.

And when all was completed as well asthey were able to do it, instinctively bothlads knelt beside the grave and prayed fora few minutes in silence. And the birdsoverhead sang their hymns to unite in theservice—happy songs of gladness they sang,that seemed to convey to the boys' heartsthe grand lesson of all funeral services, thatdeath is not all sadness, for we know of the joy that follows.

There was nothing more to be done nowbut to return to camp. Mackintosh hadprobably returned by this time, and he orHaggis would be able t o guide to the Daco

tah village on the urgent errand. So thebroncho was caught. It had never wanderedfar after the recovery from its fright, which

was probably due to the sudden appearanceof a wolf in the scrub ; and before long thechums were on the return trail, taking itin turn to ride the horse.

Camp was reached about noon, and theboys were greeted at the tent by the Scot.

" Where in the world have you two



The Fiery Totem. 223

that are like bits o' sunshine and beams o'the moonlight. Beetle ! Speak not to methe name o' they things o ' darkness ! "

The tent was rolled and most of the otheradjuncts to the camp were collected anddeftly stowed on the back of the pack-horsewith the neatness of an expert camper.Then a hasty cold meal was taken whileMackintosh delivered his plans.

" Now, boys, listen to me. I've got tobo your captain in this journey, for you'll

admit that I know best. Well, I've prepared food enough for three of us for twodays. Each will carry his own. Thenyou've got a pair o' guns and a rifle betweenyou. That's all that you'll need. I'v egot my own rifle and a revolver in case o'accidents, though I' m hoping there'll beno need for the like o' that. Now, we'llstart off at once. There's no straight roadfrom here for Pleasant Valley, but it'sthrough bog and bush where the horse cannaget wi' its burden. But it'll make four orfive hours' difference to us other than by theroundabout way. So Haggis'11 take thepack-horse. Aye, he'll be better o' Bannock too. Dogs are often useless creatures in anexpedition that might mean creeping andhiding. Bannock' s no' that bad-mannered ;

but he loves hunting, and a wolf mighttempt him."

" How far is it to this Pleasant Valley, asit is called ? " asked Holden.

" Aboot fifteen mile as we will travel,twenty at the least by the path Haggis'Ufollow. Oh, ay e; Haggis'll be all right.There's no fear o' him not turning up abootmidnight. He's no' quite ceevilised yet,for he canna mind a' the words o' ' AuldLang Syn e' and ' Rule Britannia.' Buthe's ceevilised enough to be dependable.You wait at the Old Crossing till we turnup, Haggis ! "

" Right, boss," answered the half-breed,who seldom spoke more than two words at atime if he could avoid doing so, and he

immediately rose up to make the finalarrangements for his departure.

" Then there's no more to be said, " theScotsman concluded. " It's start rightaway ; keep a brave heart and a steadyfoot foremost and we'll no' be that far fromour friends come nightfall."

Skipper Mackintosh had spoken nothingbut the truth when he said that the directtrail was not one that a laden pack-horsecould travel with ease, far less speed.

The earlier portion of the march was easyenough. But after about an hour's walkingthrough the bush, the travellers reached amile of bog-land, across which a path couldonly be found by stepping cautiously fromone grassy hummock to another. Even

then the surface of the moss shivered foryards around, and the mud between thetufts oozed as if its mouth were watering toswallow up the trio.

" Feel for every step before you put yourweight on it ! " the naturalist instructed.He, of course, had taken the foremostposition of leader. " If you want to disappear quicker than you did in yon muskeg,Master Bo b, you can set the tip o' your bigtoe in yon mud and you'll travel as quick as electricity."

This part of the journey was certainlyfatiguing, but the travellers kept up a good

heart by pleasant banter and dogged

determination.Reaching solid ground again, there was

another easier spell of bush tramping. Thenthe trail began the ascent of a hill—a rocky,loose-bouldered slope that could only betraversed by a narrow path that somewhatresembled a strip of ribbon on the side of ahouse.

Up they went, higher and higher each

step, with the sharp slope to the left, anda sheer declivity of loose stones at the right.

Once Alf slipped, and the stone againstwhich he tripped went leaping down theslope without stopping, until it was lost tosight some three hundred feet or more below.

" Which of you two laddies is theone that's danced down the hill-side ? "questioned Mackintosh without seeming tolook round. His voice was pleasant, but hehad taken a quick glance backwards allthe same, and his face had paled a little.That was but his kindly way of cheeringthe boys and helping them to keep theirnerves in hand.

After a time the climbing ceased. It wasnow a level path, though it was none the lessready to trap the unwary, as it twisted roundspurs and crossed little ravines. Then suddenly the travellers became aware of a soundlikejthat of a small cataract.

Mackintosh stopped, and as they listenedthey were able to hear that the sound was onethat proceeded from the continuous rollingof innumerable stones that were being propelled down the hill-side at no great dis tance .

" What on earth is it 1 " questioned Alf,and at the same moment the man pointedtowards a cloud of dust that had rounded a

spur ahead of them—a cloud that wasadvancing rapidly in their direction to theaccompaniment of loud bleating.

" A herd of mountain sheep on the stampede," was the Skipper's immediate verdict.

" Sheep ! Coming towards us ! " exclaimed Bob, and as the words were spokenthere could be seen amid the dust a lot of woolly animals tearing frantically alongthe narrow path, throwing the stones frombeneath their feet, while now and then onewould stumble and roll down the slope asthough it had been shot from a cannon.

The noise was bewildering, as it echoedamong the barren hills and rocks.

" See ! There's a black animal chasingthem ! " exclaimed Holden excitedly.

" A bear," said Mackintosh with grimcalmness, as ho rapidly slung his repeatingrifle into readiness, an example that the boysquickly followed.

" What's t o be done ? " Bo b questioned.Frankly he had not the remotest notion howto meet such an emerg ency; for it wasimpossible to climb upwards, as it wasequally impossible to descend, while to retirealong the path would only be to postponethe threatening disaster for a few minutes.

" Come! Follow me quickly. But be careful," Mackintosh suddenly ordered, he himself hastening forward as the boys followed.

At this position, the side of the hill bentto the left in the form of a horse-shoe, sothat it was quite easy from where the three

adventurers stood to throw a stone across

Toot hach e at the Menag erie.

The SEA LION : " Ah I there is our proprietor suffering with

tusk trouble. Ho w I do sympathise with him I "

the intervening chasm to the path at theother side.

Mackintosh led the way until he hadreached the first spur. Then he told theboys to wait.

" Keep your hands steady and your gunsready, boys," he said. " I'm going along abit to shoot down the leaders, if it may be ;you empty your rifle and a round or two o'shot into yon bear. They'll all be oppositeus on the other side in a few minutes. Asteady nerve will do it ; so, if ever you werecool in your born days, this is the day to becoolest."

Without waiting for further remark fromeither side, the man then hastened someyards along the path and took up a positionwhere he could kneel and steady his gun armon a boulder, and hardly had the severalpositions been taken up than with a roar andclatter and cloud the stampede rounded theopposite hill-spur.

Crack! went the Scotsman's repeater.Crack ! Crack ! And down tumbled threesheep, two of which rolled down the slope,leaving one to bar the way in the path. Theothers took the downward plunge. Crack !Crack ! Crack 1 The rifle spoke rapidly andsurely, as each bullet found a billet in a

different animal.The race was checked, but not yet

effectually, though the Skipper had nowmore time to pick off the leaders as theyscrambled over their brethren—only to fallvictims to the sharp-shooter, and help tobuild up a barrier to impede the others.

It was now a terrible sight of animals indesperation.

There were a hundred mountain sheepat least, and they were scrambling in adense mass, trying vainly to advance—fighting, struggling, tumbling down theslope in mad confusion. Now and then onewould have a momentary success and almostcross the barrier. Then the deadly riflewould again send its message—and the

barrier would be raised by one more.Meantime, faithful to their charge, the

boys kept their attention to the rear of theherd, but the dust was so dense that theycould barely discern the hindmost animals.

Then Bob suddenly exclaimed:" Look out! "But Alf had been equally ready. A rifle

and a gun darted up to each boy's shoulderat the same instant; a simultaneousexplosion came like one from both weapons.Then followed a roar like a miniature thunderpeal, and a brown grizzly was seen to shootdown the declivity in pursuit of the poor

sheep that he had driven to destruction insuch numbers.

" Bravo ! " shouted Mackintosh, letting

go his feelings in a wild whoop of exultation." A grand shot, lads ! "" I guess his day's work is

done," returned Alf quietly,though he was none the lessdelighted with his own and hischum's success.

Finding that the fierce pursuithad ceased, the few remainingsheep turned on the retreat,since they found it impossibleto advance farther. Then theadventurers advanced on theirway, though they, in their turn,found it impossible to pass thebarrier, and some time had to beexpended in carefully tumblingthe carcases down the slope.

But soon the work was successfully accomplished, and the pathonce more clear to permit thethree comrades to pursue theirurgent course.

(T o be continued.)



224 The "Boy's Otvn Paper.

OUR NOTE BOOK.

W I T H EGGS AJSTD SAUSAGES.

A SPECIAL feature of the New Tear 's celebrations at

the Berlin Court has always been the presence of theHallors—workmen from th e salt works at Haile.According to an ancien t custo m, these Hallors, whoare an old Wendis h tribe, send every year a d eputa tionto Berlin to bring their congratulations to the Imperialfamily. Th e three oldest Hallors are received by t heKaiser, the Empress, and all their children, to whom

they present the traditiona l gifts, consisting of a hiehpyramid of salt out of whi ch peep several d ozens of egg^which have been previously boiled in brine. The yalso bring eigbty sausages as a gift for the Kaiser .These are thoroughly smoked, and are known as thaKaiser's sausages.

J5P

TO CU T THROUGH SNOW.

O U R railways rarely know, or need, the rotary snow-

plough, whose spectac ular operati ons are best witnessedin the R o c k y Mounta in region This inven tion is an

effective substi tute for the old plan of charging imme nsesnow-drifts with a huge plough driven at a speed of 60or 70 miles an hour b y half a dozen pushing locomot ives .

By that plan it was sometime s the plough and thelocomotives whi ch suffered the most damag e. Butthe rotary pl ough, acting on the snow-bank s like anauger, with a sw iftly revo lving steel wheel twel ve feetin diameter, having blades resembling those of a ship'spropeller, cuts a passage through solid drifts at the rate

of from two to twe lve miles an hour. The snow is shotfrom a spout attached to the plough to a distance of

50 or 100 feet.

J0*

OU R LIBRARY TABLE.

S O M E ne w books to be noted and remembered for

reading at the present season are the following :

*' Queer Cousin Claude," by Brenda Girviu (GeorgeAllen, 3s. Gd.), a story of an Aus tralian b oy , freshfrom " station l ife," wh o comes to live with rela tivesin London. Claude has ma ny difficulties to conte ndwith, but he comes thr oug h his ordeal all right and at

the end is to be voted " a real good sor t . "

"Tr iangul ar Cr icket , " by E. H . D. Sewell

(Dent , 0s. net), in which this well-kn own writer on

cricket deals with the re cent '* Tes ts. " There is agreat deal of interesting a nd useful information abo ut

English, Austral ian and South African cric ket

generally, together with valuable tips for those con

cerned with club cricket.

" A Fig ht for a Life , " by P. M. Hensley(Church Missionary Society, Is . Gd.), a true storyof native life and mission work in the Ib o countr yof West Africa. In a " Forewo rd " Bi shop Tugwellsays : " Her (the writer 's) devot ed labours were richlyblessed, and many on both sides of the Kiver Niger,like Eze (the principal character), found light and life

by faith in the Saviour W h o m she so faithfully p roc la imed. " This little b o o k gives a clear insight i ntonative customs and beliefs, and is a fine t r ibute to thesplendid missionary work that is being carried ou inth e heart of the Dark Co ntinent.

" liutterflies and Moths at Hom e and Abro ad, "

by H. Rowland -Brow n, M.A., F.H.8. (T. Fisher

Enwin, 7s. Gd.). This volum e has been prepared

by the author with a v iew to guide and suggest rather

titan to prov ide ma terial for adva nced studen ts. It

is, therefore, free from many technicalities although,at the same time, it covers the subject very thoroughly.

Nature- lovers , who are to be found in number s amo ng

" B.O.P." readers, will find vast delight and instruction

in these pages, and will prize the 21 coloured full-page

ph.tes for their life-like representat ion of butterllies,

moth s and caterpillars. For all readers—whether

nature-lovers and collectors or no t—we would re

commend in particul ar t he chapter on " Prot ect ivePowers—Mimic ry , & c , " with its wonderful instancesof how insects adapt themselves to their immediatesurroundings.

*' Sea Scouting and Seamanship for B o y s , " by W.Baden-Powell , K.C. (J. Brown & Son, Glasgow* Is.),

is a work inten ded for B oy Sco uts wh o prefer the sea

to the land, and deals with all branches of the life an dwork. Boats of various models, inland boating, watermanship, seamanship, swimming and rescue work,wrecks and life-saving appara tus , buoys and beacons,—thes e are among the many features on whic h theauth or dwell s. There is, indeed, a wealth of information, and th e Sea Sc out who digests the well-pa ckedchapters will be as " Prep ared " for any emergencyas he could wish to be. The little book is copiously

illustrated and includes useful coloured charts of flagsan d buoys.

" Hereward the Wak e." a new edition of Kingsley'sfine story with 15 illustrations. One of the " Oxford

Editions of Standard Au th or s" (O xford UniversityPress, 2s. an d Is. Gd. net).

" In Time s of Steel," by W. P. Shervill (John F.Shaw & Co., 3s. Gd.). Mr. Shervill, whose name iswell kno wn to " B. O. P. " readers, has written a swingingtale of the old days of chivalry, when knights donned

their armour and tilted agai nst each other in the lists.Th e period, to be exact, is the reign of King Stephen.In the hero, Ralph Dubois, we have a lad of courageand high principle who quick ly gains our sym pat hyand admiration. There is a myst ery about hisparentage which places him under a cloud for a time,but he wins through gallantly, and we rejoice with himat the good fortune that is ultimat ely his reward. Theauthor has ca ught the spirit of the time in a remarka blemanner, and he gives us a vivid picture of those oldknightly days. The story is cramm ed with adv enture,and w e can see Mr. Shervill's readers voti ng it " arattling good yarn. " The illustrations, in colour, ar «by the well-known " B.O. P." artist, Mr . Alfred Pearse.

to Maine and hope you will like the new "life.

Send us notes of anything interesting that yo u come

across, with a phot ogra ph if possible, for our Note

B o o k and Open Column.

J. C. E. (Burn ley). —The writer you name, M. P.Dunlop, is still writing for the " B. O. P." We phallbe issuing a story from his pen shortly. Thanksfor the sugg est ion; see our new feature, " In

Lighter Mood."

N E W R E A D E R (London, S.E. ) .—We can never reply to

queries in " the next issue of the V B.O. P.," as the

paper goes to press some weeks in advance of

publica tion. If you have a talent for story and

essay writing by all means develop it. Enter for

competitions in papers which encourage the literary

ambitions of their readers. Rea d the best authors

and study their methods closely ; yo u must under

stand the way to construct a story as well as how to

put your ideas into decent English.

F. R . EVERNDEN.—Thank you for sending the little

design ; we have had something very like it recently.

See the November part.

M O D E L S . — T r y Bassett-Lowke, Ltd., Northampton and

112 High Holborn , London, W . C . , for the engine you

want . You would have no difficulty in gettingrolling sto ck to fit the rails. Writ e to Ogden Smith,21B Cheapside, E.C., for catalogue; a workingcrane such as you describe is not difficult to make.

H A R R Y M.—Br omide enlargements can be toned a

pleasing sepia colour by placing them in the following

solution after they have been developed, fixed anddried : H y p o , 5 oz. ; al um, J oz. ; boiling water,35 oz. Dissolve the h yp o in the water first, then ad dthe alum slowly. Whe n all is dissolved the watershould be milky -white . Kee p the bath hot up to

120° P., and the prints will tone in about half an hour.

Correspondence.B L A C K A N D W H I T E . — Y o u r work

shows some promise and no little

originality, but it is wantin g intechn ique. Joi n an art school,

or some classes where you will

receive the necessary instruction.

" L i n e " and "w as h." drawings

ar e taken by mos t magazines , but the

field for artists' work is not so w^de

as it was formerly, owing to the

increasing use of photographs.

C O L L E C T O R . — T he badge for stamp col

lectors, by which they may be recog

nised by their fellow philatelists, issupplied by W . S. Lincoln, 2 HoliesStreet, Oxford Street, London, W . O .

Th e badge is made in the shape of a

triangular Cape stamp, and its price is1*. Wearing this badge should lead

to many an interesting conversationand many a deal between brother-philatelists.

L . M. L. ST R O N G . — Y our praise is very

cheering: we w elcome you as a ne wreader. More school serial stories will

appear in the prese nt volum e ; look

ou t for announcements.

L A U R E N C E HARDlNa.—Your copies of

the paper ha ve been sent you . Wo

are interested to hear of you r move T he pleasures of learning : waiting for the b ump .

boys own paper 4th january 1913

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