BOILS AND ULCERATED SORES

Star (Christchurch), Issue 8585, 29 March 1906, Page 4

BOILS AND ULCERATED SORES

♦ — ZAM-BUK PROVED SUPERIOR. Boils, which are a very common affliction at this season of tho year, may arise from a debilitated condition of the 6ysteui and generally oocur on some part ot tho body exposed to friction or chafing. After the boil has burst, the healing process will be greatly aided by the repeated application of ZamBmc. As a striking illustration, Mr John' Handy, of 380, Campbell Street, Rockharnpton, Q., says:—" I have used 'Zam-Buk Healing Balm for Boils and Ulcerated Sores, and find it a far superior article to various other ointments I have tried. A few applications of Zam-Buk brought about a perfect cure, where other ointments have entirely failed. lam in the employ of the Railway Department, Rpckhampton, arid have no hesitation in recommending Zam-Buk as an invaluable healing Balm." Zam-Buk is a proved cure for Files, Eczema, Boils, Running Sores, Sore Logs, Barcoo, Rash, Ringworm, Rheumatism, Lumbago, Sciatica, etc. As an embrocation for Strained Muscles and Tendons, Zam-Buk rubbed well into the parts affected is unequalled. As a houseftold balm for Cute, Bruiaee, Burns, Pimples, Blackheads, Sore Throat, Sore Chest, and Sore Feet, Zam-Buk is invaluable. From all medicine vendors at le 6d, or 3s 6d family size (containing nearly four the quantity). •' '■■ ' 3

plied his' eister, scarcely raising her eyes from the fashion plate. ' : Go to bed, there's a good boy." " Lion's barking like anything." '"Nonsense! You miiet be dreaming, boy." " It sounds like somebody trying to get into the. stable. I wish you'd go and see," said Bobby, beginning to whimper. \ " Now, Bobby, if you're not a good boy, I'll tell father when he oomeS home. Run along to bed." Bobby obeyed reluctantly, and Ethel went on with her newspaper ; but only for a few minutes, before she was interrupted by the angry barking of a dog, mingled with the sounds of a man's voice. The dog grew more 6avage every moment/ and presently Ethei heard calls for help. Kunning to the door, she opened it and looked out. A man's figure could just be discerned on the ground, defending himself from the angry dog, which barked and snapped at nim. "Call off your infernal dog! He'll be the death of me!" " Lion! Lion!" cried Ethel. The dog took no notice, and the young £:ji advanced into the yard. "Come here, sir I Come to heel!" Lion paid no attention. He snapped at the prostrate figure with sharp, savage barks, and bounded from side to side in his frantic endeavour to pass the whirling stick. Ethel j-ad to 6eize him by the collar and hold him back by main force. " Has the dog hurt you?" she aslci-d, when the man did not rise. " Yes ; I wonder at your keeping such a savage brute." " I never knew him bite any <me before. What do you mean, Lion? you naughty dog!" •. The ugly beast has bitten my kg and torn my clothes. You have no business to have such a dangerous ammaUoose so near the public road." "But he is not an ill-tempered cYg, indeed lie isn't 1 I can't think what has come over Kirn to-night." "Well, mind you don't let him loote again. Can you give me a bite of .-ajj ething to eat, Mies? I'm starving.'.' "Yes, certainly. Where ha ?e you come from?" " Kaikonra ; but I lost my way among the mountains." # . ' ' Kaikoura ? Were you going to Nelson?" " No, Beaver Town." " Beaver Town? Why, you are fifty miles out of your road". Won't you come in?" , , The stranger rose elowly ana painfully from the ground ; but Lion began to growl and bark furiously, tugging so strongly at his collar that Ethel had much difficulty in holding him. " You'd better tie that brute up." " Lion, what do you mean,, sir? Lie down!" cried Ethel, beating him with her disengaged hand. "What's the matter with you? I never saw you behave like this before." . " Let me go in first, and then shut him out," said the man. "Yes, that will bo best; he never comes into the house." . The stranger- stooped, lifted a he^vy swag from the ground, and staggered towards the door. He was so exhausted that he oould hardly carry the heavy burden. Ethel followed, pushing to the door behind her, to make sure that Lion would not enter; but he was too quick, and brushed roughly past her before she oould drop the latch. "Lion. Lion I How dare you come into the nous*, sir I" she cried, as the dog slunk under the kitchen table witn S "rifkUl" that brute!" said, the stranger, seizing one of the fireirons. " ['11 kill him If he comes within Ethel saw the man by the bright lamp-light she in™ l ™**™? stepped back. He was tall, strongly buil£ rather high-shouldered; his olothea were torn, wet and splashed with mud; in his face were signs of great fatigue; but they did not conceal the hard determination of his straight mouth and square jaw. It was, howover, the wild gleam of his furtive eyes whicn alarmed her. Dark in colour they never rested a moment, and only met herfi in short, suspicious . glances. They gave to hie face so anxious and terrified a look that she thought he mi Although a brave and fearless girl, her heart sank within her when she remembered how helpless was her situation; for, with the exception of her two little brothers, she was absolutely alone in the house with this wild-eyed man. Her nearest neighbours the Monroes, were a good three miles off. 'She changed her mind about turning Lion out of doors; the faithful animal brought her a feeling of protection. M "I'll get you something to eat, , sne said, a Tittle timidly, and, lighting a candle, she went into the back kitchen, followed closely by Lion. Tlie traveller, meanwhile^ cowered over the fire, warming hia grimy hands and spreading his saturated _ garments to dry- hut tho slightest noise in the room caused him to glance suspiciously round. j Ethel, when setting out come bread and meat, always kept the table between herself and the. stranger, who watched every movement with Jus Jurtive eyes. She stood a jug of milk beside his plate, being nervous about approaching the fire, which she must have done to make him a cup of tea. "Your supper is ready," she said, retreating towards the bedroom in which her brothers slept, with Lion cloao at her heels. i * This unusual behaviour of the dog alarmed her, for he was never* allowed in the kitchen, and to-night he even followed her to the bedroom. She had made up her mind to remain in her brother's room all night, and was lifting the younger boy into Bobby c bed, when a shuffling sound in the kitchen caused Lion to growl, erect, the hair along his back, and fix his eyes on the door. Ethel stepped in front of him, turned the handle softly, and, peeping in, encountered the stranger's watchful eyes. He had dragged the heavy sack up to the table, and was preparing to sit down. „ , „ , "Keep that door shut!" he oalled out, angrily, and picking up the poker he stood on the defensive. v Don't you dare to come in here before morning. Ethel closed the dooi 1 without a word, stole on tiptoe to her bed, and sat there, trembling with fear. She did not enter the kitchen again, and had not it been for the faithful dog guarding the door, would not have slept all night. . , She was waked in the morning by hearing the stranger move about the kitchen: but it was some time before Bhe could muster sufficient courage to enter. To her surprise, he was nowhere to be seen. She began to congratulate herself that he had left, when Lion began sniffing suspiciously about the room, stopped at her father's bedroom door, and began 'to growl. Treading lightly, Ethel stood beside him, her head turned to hear if anyone moved within.' No sound caught her , ear, and she bega* to think Lion mistaken, when the door opened suddenly, and the stranger confronted her. "What are you spying after? he asked, suspiciously. _ " I wasn't Pnving," faltered Ethel, her face deadly pale and her knees knocking together. , r "Yes you were ; yon looked throuch the keyhole. If- you or w;- £ roth ,T! come near this room, it will be thai womefor you. When will breakfast be ready?" ■ . i A .'■ /.During this conver^a+ion +he stran<wr i did not enter the kitchen,; he .stood with only his head showing at .the , opening, and kept the door between , them, in evident fear of the dog. Lion, , with hair erect and fanes; aistilaypd, etood by Ethel's side, marking his disapproval of the intruder by an occa- ( . sional growl. , *, ,■„ "Breakfast will be ready in half an hour," said Ethel, retreating towards the fireplace, closely followed by her | protector. . , , , „' No sooner was her back turned than. l

a heavy missile flew close past the dog, I struck the floor, and crashed against the further wall. Licr^ turned instantly and sprang at the stranger, who slam-? Ed the door in his face. With angry barks and savage growls the infuriated animal flung himself against the door, from which Ethel could not coax him until it became evident that the cowardly intruder would not come out. ' "Who is that man?" whispered Bobby, who ventured into the kitohen when the disturbance had ceased. " I don't know. I wish father was here." "What's he got in that bag?" " I have no idea. Don't talk so loud, he might hear you," whispered Etliel, glancing nervously- towards the door. Bobbie !" she continued in a atill lower voice, "could you walk over to the Monroes and ask Hector to come up?" "It's such a long way, Ethel." " Do, there's a good boy. I'll make you a fine plum cake." " Let Lion go with me," said Bobby, hesitating. "I couldn't spare him; he won't leave me., Bobby." "How can I cross the creek?" objected her brother. During this whispered conversation, Bobby, when enumerating the difficulties that would beset his journey, had raised his voice. He was interrupted by a slight creaking at hie father's door. It opened just far enough for him to see the stranger's furtive eyes glancing suspiciously from one to the other. " What's that about crossing creeks?" he questioned in a harsh, quick voice. "If anyone attempts to leave the house I'll skin him alive ! Put that dog out! Do you hear? I'll cut your throttles " He was interrupted by Lion springing savagely at the opening. " He won't go out," said Ethel, turning very pale. "Well, take him back into your bedroom, ' and keep the door shut. ' Ethel hurried, in with her two brothers, and the . dog followed close at her heels. Presently she heard the key turn in her door, and a few minutes later the stranger appeared outside tlie window, which he forthwith proceeded to nail up. "If any of you makes the least sound, or tries to get out," he oalled, with l his cruel face close to the glass. "I'll burn, the house over your heads.' Then she heard him moving about the kitchen, the rattle of crockery indicating that he was busy with his breakfast. She remained imprisoned all day with her brothers, and in such terror of their uninvited guest that they dared not stir hand or foot. Towards evening, Ethel again, heard sounds betokening the preparation of food. Her brothers complained of hunger, but she persuaded them to bear it till their father came back — he was expected the next day. She thought it safer not to remind the madman of her presence, and such was the children's terror that they suffered without a murmur. As it grew dark, the boys cried a little ; they kept as still as mice, and trembled with fear when a sob escaped thorn, lest the wild-eyed man should, hear 'them, and carry out his dreadful threats. The dusk deepened into night. Ethel heard no sound in the outer room. Her brothers .had fallen asleep, and, though a brave girl, vagQo feara of the dreadful man. whom she felt convinced must be an escaped lunatic, filled her with apprehension. At length, tired Nature oould hold out no longer; and, reassured by the faithful watch-dog, she also fell asleep. The noise of heavy footsteps in the next room woke her. It was broad daylight. A feeling of wild terror caused her to scream and jump from the bed. The cry roused her brothers, who instantly lifted up their voices and ran to her for protection. Remembering the madman's threat, she hurriedly stopped, their wailing, and stood -fcteinbling from 'head to foot. H© couldn't have failed to hear her scream. The noise in the kitchen continued; it sounded like a man throwing something heavy on the floor; but her attention was attracted by Lion's behaviour ; he no longer showed hostility, but stood expectant at the door, wagging his tail,* his «ars pricked forward, as if ho detected the presence of a W^hat i, it, LionP" .-— The dog frisked about and whined, and then she heard her father's welcome voice. , , "Ethel! Are you going to sleep all day?" " Father !" she cried, joyfully. " Unlock the door. We caii't get out." "However did you manage that?" h© said, turning the key. For answer, Ethel threw herself into her father's arms and wept hysterically. "Why! What does this mean?" Ethel, inarticulate with choking sobs, could only cling to her father. "Is hs gone.?" cried Bobby, looking furtively into the kitchen. "Is who gone?" "The man who was going to skin us alive." ■''..', " Skin you alive! You're dreaming, boy. There's no man !" " There ie, truly, father. He locked us in here, and we've had nothing to eat for two days." "It's quite true," said Ethel, recovering from her outburst. "I think lie must have been a madman. I'm so thankful you've come." In as few words as possible she told her father of their terrifying experience. " I don't know what we should havo done without dear old Lion ; ho seemed, to know by instinct that he was a bad man, and the tramp was quite afraid of him— you darling old dogl" Ethel threw her arms round the faithful beaei;, who had been barking and jumping with delight during the whole scene. . *>I met no one on the road; has he stolen anything?" 'Al'ni afraid he must have; he had such a bad face. At any rate, he has eaten, all th-e bread and meat in the house." While hia daughter prepared some breakfast, Mr Hartland searched the place to see if anything were missing. THave either of you boys had my straw hat P" he asked. MNo, father j we never touched it."

! "Well, that is the only thing I miss." " Ought we not to send for the police?" "I suppose 6ojj but it means attending Beaver Town Police Court and-los-ing another four days. I don't value an old straw hat so niuoh as all that." ; " But, father, a man haef-no business to come into our house, frighten the children out of their wits, lock them into the bedroom, and threaten to burn it over our heads if we don't do exactly what he telU ue." "Look here!" interupted Bobby. "See what I've found under your bed." He held out a small nugget of gold to hie father. "That explains it all," oried Mr Hartland, examining the specimen with great interest. "He is a prospector .who's struck it rich; you said he carried a heavy bag?" " Yes ; he could hardly Ilift it." " All gold, I'll be bound. He wasn't a lunatic, only a man mad with ' the exictement of finding gold ; afraid that someone would forestall him before he had time to register his claim. I've seen men like that before. Where did he come from?" " Kaikoura." "I don't wonder he's played /©tit if he cam© from there. Why, it must be 'a hundred miles off. Poor devil! he's had a rough time of it." " But he was euch an awful-looking man! He had the most dreadful eyes I ever saw. If it hadn't been for Lion, I am sure he would have killed ue." " Well, lie hasn't done you any harm, and Bobby's nugget will buy a dozen straw hats. Show me where you found it, sonny." " Just there," said the boy, pointing under his father's bed. "You've not got it all," said Mr Hartland, kneeling on the floor. " There's a lot of gold dust scattered on the boards; we'll collect it for Cecil. I'd give something to know -where he found it. Scrape up every bit, and I'll put it in your money-box. But I must be off to look after the sheep." "Don't gjo far," entreated Ethel. "That man may be lurking in the bush, and come out directly you leave the home paddock." "No fear of that. He'll make straight for the registrar's office at Beaver Town. I'm only going up on the""tu6sock hills. Hoist the signal if you want me." I " Don't go out of sight, Father, and leave dear old Lion behind to guard us." c , However, nothing was seen of the stranger. The only additional trace of his visit was the finding of a cricket cap in the scrub not far from the house, which Ethel said she had seen him wearing on his arrival at Koromiko, and the unpleasant discovery by Mr Hartland that one of his horses had been stolen. He made a special journey to. Beaver Town and gave information V the police, but be heard nothing more of his horse or the mysterious visitor to Koromiko. (To be continued next Wednesday.)