EDITOR'S WALLET.

Otago Witness, Issue 1905, 25 May 1888, Page 35

EDITOR'S WALLET.

Down in the. Valley. We crept on hands and knees through the ' tangled underbrush and vines to the edge of ' the- cliff and looked over. .We were 50f t ! above a valley — a little paradise ill which" the flowers blossomed, the sweet grass grew knee high, and the ground birds built 'their' nests without fear of an enemy. • ' >"■'*■ Each man of us feasted his eyes in silence. It seemed as if ,a word spoken, aloud would shatter the picture which Nature had painted aolely for herself. 1 There was a long five minutes before any of us lookec straight down, and then we' saw a sight to make our blood tingle., "An'lhaian y> ardor, evidently shot through the hips and his lower limbs paralysed, had dragged himself along ,the base of a cliff to a spring, "just under our faces.' We looked to 'the right and followed his trail 'to Where a point of thicket ran into the valley. He had come inch by inch, leaving his life-blood to crimson the white-faced flowers and dye the grass a dull red. "Shi" ' We bend over to note tlie, last f ewf eet of his progress. He is a leprjesentative warrior —tall, strong, and full of , such courage as Nature gives only to her children of the mountain and prairie. He /draws < himself along as if he were- a log." Every' movement must cost him' te'rrjble even ' Here, alone as he believes ' himself , he will not cry out, ; „ t , ,_ fgr 1 , ■ „ •• ,He reaches the water and laps, it like a dog.- It seems as*. -if -he .could never'drink enough. He has been" hours 'crawling this half mile, and all the time a horrible fever lifts been scorching every vein, and parching his tongue. • , „- • »<» < ... ! He nnallytums from the water, 1 pulls'himsclf about with an heroic effort, and now he r( sts on his side and faces the valley. It ia ,as if he felt his .last" moment' approaching, 'and meant to die with his face to the beautiful picture," <He must have been armed, •but in that terrible struggle to reach the >spring he has lightened* 'himself of "evpry- , thing whioh could' make the journey last a second longer. Cry out an d encourage him ? Seek a place and descend and succour him ! ;ll He is an Apaciie. 'Let that be the ex'iuse for' making no nioyement! He was born to hate the white man. Such a feeling as gratitude never entered" '."his ■ heart. In his dying hour he would 'day the man who bent over him with water' to quench his" fever. Implacable — bloodthirsty to the last — heartless and cruel by nature* and cultivation — leave him to die ns he' has lived. Were the film of death already covering his orbs he would concentrate his last strength into one yell of alarm to bring 'his fellows upon us. , Look ! ' The great cat of the mountains — the puma of South America, the panther of the deep wilderness of the North— has crept Out of the thicket and is sniffing at the bloody trail. The soft breeze bore the scent to her lair, as. she slept, and she awoke to show her, yellow fangs and lick her blood-red lips. Never had she sniffed at such a trail. Never did drops of blood lead so stfrely to a victim. Ah ! Her tongue' has licked the blood from the daisies, and she arches herba"ck, shoots tire from her eyes» and tears' a£, 'the' grass with her long claws.' Ten drops of human blood have aroused all her ferocity/ Her long tail sweeps the ground, her lips fall away from the cruel fangs^'and' s>tie 'crouches down to follow the bloody trail.. The lion dr tiger would -have taken it with a rush. The great cat worms herself along like a -snake. • The trail is zig-zag. She follows every curve. We can sos her, even to the flash of her ' eyes — the working of her muscles— the quiver of, impatience that runs* through her now and then. She must pass round a large rock which has fallen from the cliffi into.-' the valley before she- can see her victim, ©t>. before the warrior can see her. > > ••''-, Three white men with hearts which, know .pity --three rifles which carry >to the i death. • Shall we shoot 7 ■ - ' >'>'' . No! The. sound of a rifle might bring, a • score of Apache devils hun ting for us.j The I cat might, lie dead before their eyes — the ! wounded warrior might owe 1 us his life,>but'j we should go. to the stake for. all that-^-to . the torture by fire and knife and- tomahawk.- • ,They could not forgive • us for < being white.men. „ , ; ■ f . „ , „ ■> >t ! Ugh I The cat;halts now and then to Hck/ .- at a larger^spot of blood — a place where thfeil warrior, overcome by pain,, h»d* too take-, an) - longer rest. It makes- the flesh creep to see? the glare in her. eyes and fohear the dedp growl she utters in ferocious satisfaction.^ • i NovW.shd slpwlr and ally creeps round the rock, hugging the ground until one standing beside the spring ;could hardly

have made her out. She is in foil sight of the warrior, who lies only 200 ft away. He must > also see her> for his » eyes are turned that way. - Ah I Did you notice bis start of surprise 1 It was not fear. The Apache warrior fears nothing which inhabits the earth or the waters thereof. He is wounded and defenceless, but he does not fear. He can die, and die bravely. Not another movement — not even a lifting of the proud head. Watch, now 1 You will never see such another spectacle, although you live a thousand years.- The shadow of death and the footsteps of Fate are imaginary. Here is the reality. Here is the shadow, but there are no footsteps. In place of them is a ! creep, creep, creep, that makes our hearts rise up untU we can hardly breathe. And such a shadow t And such merciless | Fate! With eyes which seem to be red balls of fire — with claws which dig deep into' the soil — with teeth uncovered until every one can be counted — the great cat creeps on and on — nearer and nearer. The warrior has her full before his eyes. We look; square down upon him. We can count his respirations. There is no tremble — he breathes as evenly as one asleep. Such nerve — such courage to face sure and awful death — must be born with the child. Creeping — crawling — nearer — nearer I We look- into each other's faces. Our hearts beat like trip* hammers. The stone upon which I olench my fingers would scare the cat away if hurled to the grass in front of her. I lift it — I 1 No ! He is an Apache. They never spare a prisoner. They burn and torture with devilish malignity. They spare neither old nor yonng. It is coming ! The great cat is within 20ft. She scents the hot blood as it oozes from the wound. Settling flat down on her stomach, she gathers her feet under her, lashes her tail in fury, and we see a yellow ball sail through, space, hear a scream of rage, followed by the clear loud war-whoop" of the Indian warrior, and the chapter is closed. We draw silently back, afraid to witness more.— M. Quad, in the Detroit Free Press. A Week Day Litany, Suited to the Times. I. From politicians' empty rant, The " working man" and all such cant, Protection, misery, and want, Good Lord, deliver us I n. From rabbic pests and such small deer, From winged plagues we hate and fear, Wren, fincn, and sparrow, tit and kea, . Good Lord, deliver us 1 ; m. From codlin moth and Hessian fly, From ticka, " Wha kena," and such small fry, From low-priced wool and poverty, Good Lord, deliver us t ry. From Mongol arfclessnesi likewise, From yellow skins and almond eyes, From pigtails, f ant an, puppy pies, Good Lord, deliver us 1 V. From Presbyter's conceit of bliss— From Abram's bosom, down the abyßß, To see bis neighbour fizz and hiss, Good Lord, deliver us t Vl* From High Church^^Low Church, all the crowd— From B tea zeal unduly loud, From A ft'e fervours humble-proud, Good Lord, deliver usl VII. From new-old sacerdotal tricks, From alb and chasuble and pix, From banners and from candlesticks, Good Lord, deliver us 1 VIII. From each unholy thought or wish, The World, the Devil, and Flesh, and Fish, From claptrap and from gibberieh, Good Lord, deliver us ! «. From sins and appetites that teaze us, Lust, lying, greed, and such diseases. Confined by no means to Chinesea, Good Lord, deliver us ! Mr Smith's Lisp. "Mr Smith," said a young man of this Oity, as he entered a dentist's shop hurriedly, " I want you to draw a tooth." "Show me the tooth," said the dentist, with a happy expression of face, as he picked up a dental crowbar and a handsaw. "Take any in this row," answered the youth, as he slid into the operating chair. " But which is the aching tooth 1 " " Neither one of them. Will you pull one of these or not 1 " " I suppose you know your own business," said the dentist, and he lifted the young man but of the chair with the friendly grip he took, and the tooth came with him. When he had paid the fee and was walking out, the dentist asked: "Would you kindly inform me why you wanted a sound tooth pulled ? " " Xhertainly," answered the youth, " I am an elocutiomsth, and there ith a pie the I want to rethite where the thpeaker lifchps, and I couldn't lithp. Now you thee it will be a perfect thuctheth." And he went off leaving the dentist in awe»struck silence. On a Toboggan Slide. The toboggan is a sled with a single runner, which spreads clear across the bottom of the sled. The top of the toboggan is just like the bottom. It is somewhat thicker than a sheet of writing paper, and about as long aa an after-dinner speech. Its seating capacity is limited only by the number of people who can get on it. The urbane and gentlemanly conductor sits aft and uses one of his lithe and willowy legs for a steering apparatus, by which he guides the toboggan. It is easy to slide' down hill on a toboggan. In fact, after you start down you can'b do anything else. True, you could fall off. That is easily done. The flying machine is not high, so you haven't far to fall. Still, if you have to fall from a. toboggan half way down the slide, or else fall down stairs with a kitchen stove, you take the stove and the stairs every time. It isn't so exciting and it isn't so soon. A friend and I a few days ago walked up the stairway of a Canadian slide for the purpose of trying the toboggan sensation; The president of the club took his place aft and somebody said : " Let her go." Then we stopped and the president said : "How did we like it?" I left my breath at the top of the elid.e

I and we had to go up and get it/ The tobog" | gan is to any other way of getting down hill" what flying is to going to sleep. - If I was in a hurry, and it was down Hill all the way, I would rather have a toboggan than a pair of wings any day. P.S. — There is usually an angel on" the toboggan with you, which has a tendenoy to confirm the impression that you are going down with wings. " N.B.— A young Canadian of broad experience assures me that Toronto angels really and truly have wings, inasmuoh that often he has to drive with one hand, using the (Continued on page 88.)

.^ke¥^Wu<iQ rt! lipl4v|ihe ?l aDgel,;frQia, u 4yiPgaway. **— . - , - - Addenda.— l have known the same .thing 7 to happen in- the United States.- — >■- ; flo Frills for Him. A tall old man, with a rather vacant look j and a hesitating- air, ventured, slowly into the dining-halllof , a- large uptown hotel the other evening in New York. It was the usual dinner hour, and 'the long room was filled with guests. The o\A man paused, scrutinised his cuffs and his "waistcoat, .and, after making what seemed to be a helpless effort to gaze at the back of his neck, he beckoned ! to the head waiter. That functionary hastened up, arid the old man said anxiously : " Waiter,', do I look all right ; tidy, you* know?" "'•: , v \< " The waiter inspected the venerable' guest critically for a moment, and then* assured him that all was in order. * " Necktie all right 1 "— " Yes, sir." > < , " Collar button show 1 "— •» Not, at all./sir." " No spots on my coat ? " — " Not a spot." „ '" The general effeot is pretty slick, is it 1"■ V-' I ' Very, sir." ' • , " Well, you see, waiter," said the old man, confidentially, "I came down to breakfast one day last -week without any t collar,*and my son James was very angry';, so yesterday when I came into lunch' with my' necktie under my left ear, he said if anything like, that happened again he'' would have 'mf meals, served upstairs.* ; D,o you know my, son James,' waiter 1 " — " Yes, sir:" ' " , ••• Is he in here at dinner, now ? "— " No, sir ; finished about 10 minute's ago." ' . " Are'you sure ? '.' — " Perfectly, sir." f '? Well, then, waiter,"' said the old- man, in relieved .tones, '• if you're certain of it, you tell thp"man,at "our. table to hustle. in some corned beef and cabbage, and not to play any of his French business on me, or I'll break his neck." /Haedships of a Westbbn Editor.— " (3ur paper is two days late this week," writes a Nebraska editor, " owing to an accident to- our press! When we started to run the edition on Wednesday night as usual, one of the guy ropes gave way, allowing the forward gilder fluke to tall and break as it struck the flunker, flopper. This, of course, as anybody who> knows anything about a press will readily understand, left the gang plank with only a flip flap to support it, which also dropped and broke off the wapper chock: This loosened the fluking from . between the ramrod and the flibber snatcher, which also caused trouble. The report 'that the delay was caused by overindulgence in intoxicating stimulants .by ourselves is a tissue of falsehoods, the peeled, appearance of our right eye being caused by our going into the hatchway of the press in our anxiety to start it; and pulliog the coupling pin after theslapbang was broken^ which caused the dingus to rise up and welt us in the optic. We expect a grand new gilder fluke on this afternoon's train." Required Identifying. — " You have the advantage of me," said the old merchant, blandly. " You will have to get .someone to identify you." " Identify me 7 Why, lam your son, just back from college." " May be," answered the old gentleman, " but my son did not look like a fool, wear a, monkey-tail coat, tight trousers, and toothpick shoes, nor did he suck \ cane handles. When my wife returns from her visit to my sister in the country, you may present your claims to her, and if she decides you are our offspring, I shall be happy to bid' ,you ' an affectionate good-bye on your return to college." IMr Brown's Twins.— A friend tells me a good one on a Kansas City man, Mr Brown, of the Union Pacific road. He was expecting an arrival in his family the other day, and posted the ,folks at his residence to notify him as sj^n as the important moment arrived and to report result. The result was twins, and so Brown was advised. A few minutes afterwards the fond parent called up the central office and made further inquiry.. , . Miss Hello, the operator, connected MiBrown with the Electric Supply Company's salesroom, and when he asked ''how things were prospering,", back came the reply-; _ "Four were expected by 4: o'clock, and seven next week." Brown fainted, and the fire department was called out to turn the hose on him. — St. Louis Critic. What He Was Not Taught.— " That's a knowing animal of yours," said a young masher to the keeper of an elephant. " Very," was the cool .rejoinder. "He performs strange tricks and antics, does he ? " eyeing the animal through his eye-glass. " Surprising i " retorted the keeper. "We have taught him to put money in that box you see far away up there. Try him with half-a-crown." The masher handed the elephant the halEcrown piece, and, sure enough', he took it in his trunk and placed it in a box high up out of reach. "Well, that's very extraordinary — astonishing, truly. He can take it out again,' of course ? " "We never taught him that," returned the keeper, with a roguish' leer ; and then turned to stir up the monkeys and punch the hyenas. '