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 seated, while near them the tame panther sprawled lazily in the sun.

Lachlan, Falcon and Mr. O'Sullivan stood apart. The two Muskogee warriors were away, scouting or hunting, Seeing her, Lachlan came towards her. He smiled and greeted her lightly, but she saw anxiety in his face. They walked to where O'Sullivan and Falcon stood, and she noted O'Sullivan's gravity.

For some minutes they stood talking, not venturing to ask one another what Aganuntsi's coming meant. Then Jolie laughed softly.

"This is a great man, this Conjurer," she said. "We must ask him to sup with us and we must feed him well if we value our lives. Let us prepare the feast."

She was afraid, oppressed with a sense of impending calamity, but she would not show her fear. While she supervised the roasting of two ruffed grouse and the broiling of slices of venison, she chattered lightly or hummed a tune. Before the food was ready, Almayne and Aganuntsi were done talking. The Conjurer rose and Almayne, too, got to his feet. The Indian raised his right hand, and Almayne returned the salutation. Then Aganuntsi strode off along the way he had come, the panther following close behind him.

Almayne strolled slowly toward the group around the fire. Their anxious eyes, searching his face, found reassurance in his smile.

"By Zooks!" he said as he joined them, "I am as

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 hungry as a mountain bear. I thought the old man would never finish talking of the times we've had together."

He would tell them nothing more. There was nothing more to tell, he insisted; Aganuntsi had talked only of the old days. But to Jolie there came again a sense of crisis, of disaster close at hand.

At last the meal was over; the pipes were smoked in the gathering dusk. Little Mink and Striking Hawk returned from their hunting and scouting, bringing with them a turkey and two grouse. With the round moon bathing the mountain top in ghostly light, Jolie bade them all good-night and lay down on the couch of boughs in her little hut.

She had scarcely gone when Almayne, remarking that he wished to have a look at the horses, knecked out his pipe and arose. Lachlan caught an almest imperceptible movement of the hunter's head, and when Almayne walked towards the trail leading to the spring, Lachlan followed him. Out of sight and earshot of the camp, the hunter halted and turned.

Lachlan saw his face in the moonlight, stared at it wide-eyed, and gripped his arm.

"In God's name, Almayne!" he exclaimed. "What's amiss?"

"The worst," Almayne answered in a harsh whisper. "Barradell is false to her."

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ITTING on a rock in the moonlight, his head between his hands, Lachlan listened while Almayne talked.

"I learned it by accident," the hunter said. "At first Aganuntsi talked of our hunts in the old days. Then, after a while, he told me that he had returned not long ago from a mission to the Appalaches. He went there to arrange with them to join in this war against the Carolina English, and a hundred Appalaches came back with him, commanded by a Spanish officer.

"Aganuntsi said that he had spent many days in Chief Concha's town. He said that Concha has a new War Captain, an Englishman whom he took prisoner. The Spaniards at St. Augustine learned of this somehow and they ordered Concha to watch the Englishman closely but not to harm him. Aganuntsi said that Concha has a daughter, the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. You know how handsome these Appalache and Siminole women sometimes are, tall and slender and light-skinned and quick-minded and talkative.

"Well, this girl fell in love with the Englishman. At first Aganuntsi could not remember the English-

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 man's name, but he remembered it later—Gilbert Barradell."

Almayne paused. Lachlan, his head still supported in his hands, said nothing.

"He married the girl some six weeks ago," the hunter continued, his voice harsher than ever. "It was a real marriage performed by a Spanish priest. He is mad, about her, Aganuntsi says, and she is devoted to him. Concha has made him War Chief, and he and his wife spend part of their time in St. Augustine, where they are made much of by the Spaniards."

Almayne tugged at his moustache and glared at the top of Lachlan's bowed head.

"For God's sake, don't sit there like a stone!" he exclaimed. "What are we to do now? What are we to tell Jolie?"

Lachlan got to his feet slowly, a little unsteadily. He was dazed, his thoughts were a whirling chaos. Almayne seized his arm in a grip of iron and shook it.

"Pull yourself together, man," he said fiercely. "We must think this thing out here—now!"

They talked until late into the night. For a time they were like men struggling to set their thoughts in order again after the impact of some stunning physical shock. An inconceivable thing had happened. It had burst upon them without the slightest warning. At first they could not grapple with it.

Like drowning men clutching at straws, they clutched at the possibility of error, at the possibility that Aganuntsi had manufactured the story for some

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 obscure purpose of his own. But these straws sank under them.

This thing that had happened, Lachlan knew, was a thing that had happened often before. The spell of the wilderness was strong. It made many a man forget the world that he had known, renounce that world forever. The Southern Indians had advanced much farther along the road towards civilization than the ruder savages of the North and West. Their women, especially those of the ruling families or clans, were often beautiful, often highly intelligent, quick of wit and of speech. Many a white man of good birth, already captivated by the lure of the wilderness, had found in some dark-eyed Indian beauty the final and decisive reason for making the New World his home. Often these marriages failed, but sometimes—and Lachlan found double proof of it in his own ancestry—they endured.

No, this incredible thing that had burst upon him like a thunderclap was not incredible. On the contrary, it had happened before and would happen again. But that it should have happened to Jolie Stanwicke, that she should be numbered among those unhappy ones who had been cast aside by wandering lovers to whom the wilderness had called in tones that would not be denied—this was the fact which at first appeared too monstrous to be real.

He knew that he loved Jolie Stanwicke. The love that had been kindled in him had mounted and flamed during those long days on the wilderness trails

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 and on Sani'gilagi's summit. Yet now that leve was submerged in pity; for he saw her stricken, blighted, her gallant spirit crushed, the light gone frem her eyes.

Within tight lips that did not move he cursed the man who had done this thing—this Gilbert Barradell, whom he had never seen but had always hated because Jolie Stanwicke loved him.

Suddenly a light broke upon Lachlan and brought confirmation, if confirmation were needed, of the thing that Aganuntsi had told. His mind leaped back to that first night in Lance Falcon's cabin, when he had played the part of Don Ruy Ortiz of St. Augustine. Every incident of that night was etched upon his memory. He could recall the very words ef that puzzling, unexpected question which Falcon had asked so eagerly: "And what of the affair of Chief Concha's daughter?"

So Falcon had known even then! He had known of the existence of this Indian girl, had known that there was something between her and Gilbert Barradell.

In a flash a new fact dawned upon Lachlan.

Jolie Stanwicke had distrusted Gilbert Barradell! She had been afraid of this thing that had now happened!

It was as plain now as the noonday sun. Lachlan knew now why Jolie had attached so much importance to Falcon's question about the affair of Cencha's daughter. He knew now why Jolie had questioned

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 him so eagerly about this Indian girl, why she had sought to learn from him whether the girl was beautiful. Yes, she had been afraid of this girl, this daughter of Chief Concha's, from the moment when she had learned of the girl's existence. Loving Barradell, yet she had doubted him, had lacked faith in his constancy.

Lachlan could not tell Almayne where these thoughts carried him. Indeed, he himself did not know. He was aware only of a sudden new sense of freedom, as though a weight had been struck from around his neck.

He could not explain this feeling, did not try to explain it. Instead, he turned to the question of what their course should be. Should they tell Jolie at once or should they wait? It was instinct, perhaps, that determined him upon the latter course; and Almayne, pointing out that weeks might pass before they could leave their refuge on the mountain, could see no reason for haste in imparting to Jolie what they had learned.

This settled, they walked slowly back toward the camp and saw Mr. O'Sullivan sitting on watch, his white head gleaming in the bright moonlight. The same thought came to them both. Almayne uttered a low whistle and beckoned O'Sullivan. He came to them quickly and Lachlan told him of the news that Aganuntsi had brought.

For some moments the little man stood silent before them, his head bowed. Then he lifted his face to

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 Lachlan, and they saw that tears were in his eyes, and yet he was smiling and there was a great content in his face. It was not his habit to talk in riddles, but this time his words left them puzzled.

"I am glad," he said slowly in his bird-like voice. "I have been afraid that she would not discover herself in time. That danger is past now."

When Lachlan stared at him blankly and Almayne swore under his breath, O'Sullivan laughed happily.

"You think I am daft," he told them. "You will see that I am wiser than you two simpletons put together."

For Lachlan there could be no sleep that night. Presently, while O'Sullivan and Almayne still stood talking, he wandered alone down the steep, narrow trail which led to the spring and the little meadow where the horses grazed. His thoughts were still awhirl. He did not realize that as he passed the spot where O'Sullivan had been sitting on watch, he picked up the Irishman's rapier which had been leaning against a rock. Yet, as always when he walked through the woods, he moved with the noiselessness of an Indian hunter, and as always his senses were alert.

Suddenly a faint sound halted him. It might have been one of the horses in the meadow below, but he did not believe that this sound had been made by a horse. More cautiously than ever he moved forward

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 down the steep trail until the meadow opened before him.

There in the bright moonlight he saw Lance Falcon standing beside the big roan that he had ridden on the flight to the mountain—the roan that had once been Jock Pearson's.

There was no saddle on the roan, but he was bridled, and Falcon was about to vault upon his back. Lachlan stepped out into the open and strode towards the spot.

Falcon saw him instantly, and the hand which had held the bridle-rein leaped to the hilt of his sword. Momentarily a black frown convulsed his face; yet he was smiling as he greeted the younger man.

"Ah, Mr. McDonald," he said coolly, "you have come to bid me farewell?"

Lachlan had halted ten paces away.

"Where are you going, Captain Falcon?" he asked sternly.

For a moment Falcon seemed to hesitate. Then he nodded, as though he had reached a decision.

"A blunt question," he said briskly, "and I shall give it a blunt answer. I am grown aweary of your mountain, Mr. McDonald, and more than a little weary of the rôle of prisoner. I have been, as you are aware, a confidant of the Governor of St. Augustine and I happen to know something of the Spanish plans to help the Cherokees take Fort Prince George. If those plans were carried out, there are Spanish

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 Indians and a Spanish officer among the Cherokees of this wilderness, and it is in my mind to go to them now and tell them certain things."

"Traitor!" Lachlan flung at him fiercely. "You would betray us! Your pledged word"

Falcon spat out a contemptuous oath. He moved a step nearer, and Lachlan, watching him keenly, saw the gleam of his white teeth in the moonlight.

"I have played the honourable fool long enough, Mr. McDonald," he exclaimed harshly. "You may consider my pledged word broken if you choose. Spain and the Cherokees are allies in this war—though the Charles Town English know it not—and I have only to ride down this mountain to find myself among friends. Why I have waited so long I hardly know."

He paused and stroked his chin.

"It was a losing game that I was playing on the mountain," he continued calmly. "I think that already Gilbert Barradell is a shadow and Lachlan McDonald has taken his place. But the game is not yet over. I shall come back to Sani'gilagi within a few hours at most, and I shall bring with me my friends from down yonder, and it may be that the lady, having changed her mind once, will change it a second time, seeing that she will have no choice when she rides into St. Augustine as Lance Falcon's prize."

He spoke quietly, casually, as a man might speak to his neighbour about the weather.

"We have a score to settle, Mr. McDonald, and

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 the time to settle it has come. Fortunately you have a sword in your hand and the moonlight is well nigh as bright as day. They cannot hear us on the mountain top. On guard, sir! I am going to give myself the pleasure of killing you before I go."

In an instant his rapier was out. In another instant the moonlight glittered on the crossed blades.

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T SEEMED to Lachlan that he had been fighting for an eternity—that for unnumbered hours he had been circling the moonlit meadow under Sani'gilagi's summit, parrying, thrusting, battling for his life, while in front of him Lance Falcon danced and shimmered behind a shifting, glimmering veil of steel—a crouching, hideously smiling figure, yet darkly handsome, unreal, elusive as the moonlight, baleful as some nameless phantom of a dream.

To Lachlan all that had happened and was happening was unreal. It seemed to him that his mind and body dwelt apart; that his hand and eye were fighting this fight without direction from his brain; that the moves that he made were not made consciously but were wholly mechanical, as though his body had become an automaton animated by some force within itself over which he had no control.

Yet he knew that never before had he fought so well. His eyes—and apparently Falcon's also—seemed as much at home in the brilliant moonlight as in the full light of day. He knew that he was fighting with all the art of which he was capable, that he was utilizing with almost perfect skill all that O'Sullivan had taught him; and he was not alarmed

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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

At Joshua Tree NP, 767 visitor groups were contacted and 700 of these groups (91%) accepted questionnaires. Questionnaires were completed and returned by 525 visitor groups, resulting in a 75% response rate for this study.

Table 2 compares age and group size information collected from the total sample of visitors, who participated, with age and group size of visitors who actually returned questionnaires. Based on the variables of respondent age and visitor group size, non-response bias was judged to be insignificant.

Figure 1 shows visitor group sizes, which ranged from one person to 54 people. Forty-five percent of visitor groups consisted of two people, while another 25% had three or four people.

Fifty-three percent of visitor groups were made up of family members and 24% were with friends (see Figure 2). “Other” group types included romantic interest partners, rock climbing groups, hiking clubs, motorcycle club (AMCA), botanical study groups, Boy Scouts, Desert Institute, and home schooling groups.

Forty-seven percent of the visitors were in the 26-50 age group and 19% were 15 years or younger (see Figure 3). Over one-half of visitors (52%) were male and 48% were female (see Figure 4). Forty-nine percent of visitors reported that this was their first time visiting Joshua Tree NP, 16% had visited the park between three and five times, 14% had visited twice, and 16% visited nine or more times in their lifetime (see Figure 5).

Eight percent of visitor groups were international, from Canada (29%), Germany (21%), England (19%), and 15 other countries (see Table 3).


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 at the discovery, which he had made early in the combat, that Falcon was at least his peer in swordcraft, while enjoying also the advantage of height and reach.

He had no sense of apprehension or of nervousness. His mind was not here in the moonlit meadow where he was battling with Lance Falcon but in the little lean-to on the mountain top where Jolie Stanwicke was sleeping.

He saw her lying on her couch of boughs, smiling a little, her red-gold hair pushed back from her cool forehead. How beautiful her face was, and how lithe and strong her slim body, and how brave she had been amid all the perils of the wilderness! With a quick thrill of pleasure he recalled how she had learned to love the wilderness, despite its hardships and its terrors; and he wondered dully whether she had learned to love it well enough to go with him to his own land of Tallasee and to dwell with him there.

But that, he told himself calmly, could not be. There was Gilbert Barradell who had her heart and had crushed it, though as yet she did not know that Barradell was false. And there was Lance Falcon, this devil with whom he was fighting—Lance Falcon who loved her as a fiend might love an angel and who would come back to Sani'gilagi with his Spaniards and Spanish Indians and carry her with him to St. Augustine.

The thought stung him to fury. Yet it was like the

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 unreal fury of a dream, and almost at once it passed, leaving him cold. Eternity wore on. Falcon was attacking more vigorously, more boldly. Lachlan knew that they had circled the moonlit meadowmany times, Falcon always advancing, himself always retreating. He knew, too, though he was scarcely conscious of the knowledge, that at last eternity was drawing to a close, that the battle neared its end. His mind still dwelt apart; but he was hazily and quite calmly aware of Falcon's more aggressive offence; and he knew mechanically—as though his senses knew it but not his brain—that Falcon planned to finish soon.

The slow, interminable minutes passed. He was retreating more rapidly now. He was moving backward around the meadow, and the rasping, hissing swords were as swift as lightning, as nimble as the flickering tongues of snakes.

Swift as was Lachlan's sword in defence, Falcon's was swifter in attack. Lachlan realized grimly the truth of what O'Sullivan had told him—that this man was an almost perfect master of the rapier and that his enormous strength and his length of arm rendered him doubly formidable. Lachlan could not hold his ground for an instant. Falcon was rushing him, attacking him like a raging tiger, and Lachlan gave way before him—faster, faster, faster.

A slow cunning grew in Lachlan's brain. Now, with the final crisis upon him, his mental lethargy fell from him, his mind sprang awake to the fight, to his peril, to his opportunity.

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 There was one chance in a thousand; one faint, infinitesimal hope; one tenuous, almost incredible possibility.

He had been retreating so long and so swiftly that Falcon must think him beaten. If, now, he should suddenly attack

Falcon's point touched Lachlan's shoulder, a moment later pricked his bare. This, then, was the end: he had waited too long.

Lachlan laughed, braced himself for the shock, flung himself in the teeth of that whirlwind assault, lunged, and lunged again.

A moment they stood like battling stallions, thrusting, stabbing, clashing steel against steel. Then Falcon staggered backward, stood swaying, fell face downward in the grass.

Presently Lachlan was aware of a voice behind him speaking his name—the voice of Jolie Stanwicke. He turned his head slowly.

She was standing, clad in her stained and faded buckskins, near where the trail came down into the open. Her eyes were wide and staring and her face in the white moonlight was like that of a ghost. Behind her, where the trail entered the meadow, stood Mr. O'Sullivan.

She came forward slowly, and Lachlan walked toward her, while O'Sullivan ran quickly to the spot where Falcon lay motionless. She spoke no word, but she lifted her face as they met and Lachlan took her

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 in his arms. He looked down at her and in her eyes he beheld a miracle.

He bent and kissed her lips. He told her then that he loved her, and she answered quietly:

"And I love you, Lachlan McDonald, though I did not know it till now."

O'Sullivan had come forward as she spoke, and she held out her hand to him and he pressed it between his hands.

"I have known it for a long while, Jolie," he said softly, "ever since our first days on the mountain. I was only afraid that you would not discover it in time."

He paused and looked at her gravely.

"Captain Falcon is dead," he told her very gently. "Will you go back to the camp and tell Almayne what has happened here?"

When she had gone O'Sullivan turned to Lachlan.

"It was God's will, God's goodness," he said reverently. "She came out of her hut and ran to me where I sat on watch beside the ashes of the fire—Almayne had left me not five minutes before. She had dreamed, she said, that you were in peril here in the meadow, and I remembered that you had come this way and had taken my sword. We ran down the path together, but she was swifter and left me a little behind."

The little man stood silent a moment.

"God's ways are strange," he continued. "From the path above I saw what happened. She came out into the meadow a moment before you attacked. I

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 think that Falcon saw her standing there, in the moonlight, and that for a fatal instant he was confused."

O'Sullivan paused once more.

"You owe your life to her, lad," he said, his hand on Lachlan's shoulder, "but perhaps it will be best if she never knows."

The two Muskogee warriors kept watch over Falcon's body that night lest some wandering wolfpack should find the place; and next morning, before Jolie had awakened, they laid him in a shallow trench dug with tomahawks and piled stones upon the spot. Almayne leaned on his long rifle, frowning and scornful, while Mr. O'Sullivan spoke a few words of prayer over the grave; but Lachlan, remembering a day when he had stood by Falcon's side on the Good Fortune's deck in the midst of blood and death, seemed to hear once more a great voice booming above the gale.

O'Sullivan ended his prayer and stood, a small, plump, white-headed figure in torn black kneebreeches and mud-stained white shirt, gazing down at the mound of stones at his feet.

"He was an evil man," the little Irishman said slowly, "but, by Paul, he was a swordsman!"

With this brief epitaph they left Lance Falcon.

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HAT day passed much as their other days on Sani'gilagi had passed. Yet for two of them it was such a day as had never been seen before. For Jolie Stanwicke and Lachlan McDonald the world that they had known had been blotted out and a new world had begun. From the valley below, as they sat together near the edge of the cliff, the faint insistent throbbing of the war drums floated upward on the evening air; but if they heard the sound and remembered for a brief moment the peril that surrounded them, that peril mattered little.

Only once Jolie spoke of Gilbert Barradell; and it was then that Lachlan made known to her what Almayne had learned from Aganuntsi the Conjurer.

She listened calmly while Lachlan told her of Barradell's marriage to Concha's daughter. Then she kissed him and held his face between her hands and smiled into his eyes.

"I am glad that Gilbert is happy," she said, and sat for some minutes in silence, her head against Lachlan's shoulder.

Presently she laughed aloud. "Do you remember," she asked, "how I quizzed you about this Indian girl, this daughter of Chief Concha, and how I hoped

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 that she was ugly? You did not guess what was in my mind?"

"I guessed it later," he answered.

"I think," she continued, smiling, "that even then I knew that Gilbert was as false as I have been—that even then I doubted him."

Her eyes softened suddenly.

"Listen!" she whispered. "A sanguilla, but it sings a different song."

"It is a mountain sanguilla," Lachlan told her, "a brighter, more beautiful bird, and one not often seen."

She listened to the bird, her eyes soft and thoughtful.

"Have you forgotten," she asked him, "the name you gave me—the Lady Sanguilla? Almayne told me. I have never heard you call me that, and I should like to hear it now."

He whispered the name in her ear. She nodded and said no more. A few minutes later she was asleep, her head pillowed on his shoulder. He laid her gently on the moss, looked for a long while at her face with the long silken lashes veiling the closed eyes, brushed the red-gold hair back from the smooth forehead. Then he joined Almayne and O'Sullivan.

It was at deep dusk of the second day after this that Aganuntsi the Conjurer came again.

They had finished the evening meal and were sitting around the little fire in front of Jolie's lean-to.

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 The moon had not yet risen and only a few stars sparkled in the skysky. [sic]

Suddenly, straight in front of her, Jolie saw two points of light. For an instant she believed that they were twin stars low against the horizon; but, as she watched them, they moved, and they were not white or yellow but pale yellow-green. She knew then that they were the eyes of a wild beast moving along the edge of the cliff, directly in front and not fifty yards away; and in the same instant she discerned dimly the outlines of a huge cat-like shape behind the eyes.

She whispered a warning to the others. They needed no warning. Lachlan and O'Sullivan had already seen the beast; Almayne and the two Muskogee warriors, sitting at the other side of the fire, had turned their heads cautiously and were searching the gloom. Little Mink was reaching for the bow that lay on the rock near him, when Almayne spoke.

"It is the tame panther," he whispered. "Aganuntsi is coming."

The words were scarcely spoken when the darkness took shape and the Conjurer stood before them.

Almayne rose and stood facing him. Neither uttered a sound. Aganuntsi turned and strode away into the night, and without a word Almayne followed him.

The twin stars that were the panther's eyes were motionless now. The beast had lain down near the edge of the precipice and there it waited, its yellow-green orbs glowing in the fitful light. Jolie could hear the low murmur of Aganuntsi's voice, could distin-

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 guish his form and that of Almayne standing motionless near the entrance of the trail leading down the mountain side.

In the circle about the fire no one spoke; none dared ask aloud what this second visit of the Conjurer could mean.

Jolie shivered. That sense of crisis, of peril, which had been so strong in her upon the occasion of Aganuntsi's first visit, was stronger than ever now. With a strange fascination her eyes remained fixed upon the yellow-green orbs in front of her; and suddenly, as she watched them, they vanished.

Moving her head slightly, she saw Almayne returning. A steely light glittered in his deep-set eyes; his thin, tanned face was like that of a hunting hawk. His eyes rested on Jolie and his lips tightened.

"Aganuntsi came to warn us," he said slowly. "An Appalache scout wandered up the mountain this morning and saw us. They are coming to-night to take us. We must try for Fort Prince George."

There was a silence. Then Lachlan asked quietly:

"What think you, Almayne, of our chance of reaching the Fort?"

"A slim chance," the hunter growled, "one chance in five."

Mr. O'Sullivan leaped to his feet and there was a smile upon his lips.

"We are going to win through for your sakes, Jolie and Lachlan," he told them. "And I think there will be a minister at Fort Prince George."

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VERY moment was precious. Yet Jolie found time for one last look at the little camp on the mountain top before they stole down the path to the woods-encircled meadow below the summit where the horses grazed. Within a few minutes they were mounted and away.

They followed no trail. They descended the upper slopes of Sani'gilagi by a steep and rocky way where even the sure-footed Chicasaw ponies were sometimes in danger of falling. The moon shone fitfully. Sometimes the forest around them was bathed in ghostly light, and twice Almayne halted them until drifting clouds obscured the moon once more.

There were many alarms. Again and again Jolie saw dim forms moving amid the trees, but always these proved to be small bands of deer. Once they were close to disaster and were saved only because Little Mink, the taller of the two Muskogee warriors, was swifter of foot than a Cherokee sentinel who saw them and sped away through the moonlit woods.

Jolie saw the beginning of that race but not the end. She knew only that after a time Little Mink reappeared at Almayne's side and nodded in reply to a short, guttural question of the hunter.

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 It was due to Aganuntsi the Conjurer that they were able to pierce the circle of enemies around Sani'gilagi. Knowing the precise location of every Indian camp, he had advised Almayne as tb the best route to take, and the hunter's consummate woodcraft and his intimate knowledge of the ground enabled him to follow these directions in every detail. Yet it was not only a miracle of skill which brought them safely through that first dangerous stage of their journey; it was also a miracle of good fortune.

When the dawn came they had left far behind them the valleys around Sani'gilagi where the camps of their enemies dotted the woods. There was less danger now, for a while, of a chance encounter with some wandering Indian band, but with every moment there was greater need of haste. Long ago their flight from the mountain-top had been discovered. That they were being pursued was certain, and there was no telling how close behind them their pursuers were.

In the gray light of morning Almayne wheeled Nunda, his piebald pony, to the right and headed straight up the slope of a steep oak ridge. A few minutes later they found themselves in a narrow, deepwom path or road winding along the ridge's wooded summit.

In short, quick-spoken sentences Almayne explained his change of plan, pointed out the necessity of greater speed. This was a buffalo path, he told them, one of the highways trodden out by the herds

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 in passing back and forth across the mountain barrier. For some miles it would lead them in the general direction of Fort Prince George, and they would follow it for a while because they could ride faster than in the unbroken forest. Without further word he set out at a brisk trot, the two Muskogees running just behind him.

To Jolie the swifter pace brought a sense of exhilaration. Her mind was oddly content. Throughout this journey she had been aware of a strange indifference to danger. Always, as she rode, she saw in her mind's eye the image of Lachlan. His place in the column was behind her; she could not see him without turning her head, and she turned it seldom. But with the eye of her mind she saw him as clearly as though she were gazing into his face, and during that ride she was aware of little else.

She knew now that she had loved him since those first days on Sani'gilagi; that by then Gilbert Barradell had become a phantom which still seemed real but which had no reality. She wondered vaguely that she had not recognized sooner the change that had been taking place in her; and she thought with wonder—wonder that was not vague but sharp and almost awe-inspiring—of the tremendous revelation which had come to her suddenly in that dreadful moment in the moonlit meadow when she saw Lachlan battling with Falcon and believed that he was lost to her forever.

Yes, these things were cause for wonder, and,

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 dreaming thus, she wondered at them. But in the fact that she who had loved Gilbert Barradell now loved Lachlan McDonald she found nothing strange. All that had gone before seemed unreal, childish, utterly unimportant. Her life had begun when Lachlan McDonald came into it.

Mile after mile the buffalo path wound through the splendid virgin forest of the mountains and the upper foothills; and mile after mile Jolie rode on, seeing little, hearing little of what passed around her—the abounding wild life of the wilderness, the grouse and the turkeys which they startled from time to time, the deer standing at gaze in the forest glades. Suddenly Almayne flung up his hand and jerked his horse to a halt. The others halted also and Jolie, her reverie broken at last, bent forward on Selu's back, watching the hunter curiously.

She knew that he was listening, but she could hear nothing. He sat erect and rigid on his horse, his head cocked a little to the side, his long rifle gripped in his right hand. Then, with a quick motion of his arm urging haste, he wheeled to the right out of the buffalo path, riding diagonally up the steep wooded slope, the others following. Behind a kalmia thicket well above the path he halted them.

"Watch the path," he whispered. "You'll see something."

For perhaps a minute they waited. Then from below came a muffled snort and, later, a dull thudding, as of hoofs. Gazing through a gap in the kalmia

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 foliage, Jolie saw the huge bulk of a buffalo bull in the path below, another and another and another—bulls, cows, and calves plodding onward in single file until two hundred or more had passed.

Almayne watched them eagerly, anxiously. Finally, when the last of them had vanished, he uttered an exclamation of satisfaction.

"I feared that when they smelled our traces they would break into the woods," he said to Lachlan. "Luck's with us. That herd will wipe out our tracks in the buffalo path."

For a moment he sat his horse, thinking deeply, tugging at his white moustache, his lean brown hand fingering his rifle. Then, with a gruff word to his piebald pony, he led the way along the mountain side, turning at last not down towards the path, but up the slope through the woods towards the ridge's summit. Presently he beckoned Lachlan and the latter rode forward and joined him.

"A mile beyond the divide," he said, "we can strike the old trading road, leading to the Keowee river ford and thence to the Fort. The road is hard and broad and we can make speed. What think you, lad? Shall we keep to the woods or risk a dash in the open?"

Lachlan, pondering the question, saw the hunter's face grow suddenly tense, saw his lips frame a smothered exclamation, saw the long black rifle leap to his shoulder. Almost instantly came the rifle's holiow crash, and next moment from the forest ahead of them rang out a long, quavering yell.

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 Almayne, his eyes like blue embers, flung up his hand in a gesture commanding silence. For a few moments they waited, breathless and rigid; then from far behind and below came a long whoop, tremulous, musical, indescribably ominous.

Almayne swore huskily.

"I winged him," he growled, "but he gave the signal and they heard it. They were closer behind us than I thought. We must ride for it now."

Jolie touched Lachlan's arm.

"What has happened?" she asked.

"Almayne saw a Cherokee scout and weunded him," Lachlan told her quickly. "He must have come through the woods, while the others followed the buffalo path. They heard his signal and they are coming. We must strike for the old trading road and make a dash for the river ford above Fort Prince George."

Already Almayne's pony was crashing through the underbrush as his rider urged—him up the slope. Lachlan leaned over and pressed his lips against Jolie's forehead. For an instant she clung te him. Then she bent forward over Selu's neck as he plunged through the thicket in the path that Almayne had broken. As her slim form straightened, Lachlan saw her sweep her hand across her eyes; but when she turned and looked back, she was smiling, and her eyes were bright, and his heart leaped at the spectacle of her beauty and her courage.

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HEY gained the top of the divide and began the descent of the farther slope. They heard no more whoops behind them, but Lachlan knew that their pursuers would have no difficulty in following the trail. Luck had not been with them, after all. The pursuers had been so close behind them on the buffalo path that the passage of the herd, obliterating their tracks, had gained them no respite. Evidently the Indians had pushed on after the herd had passed, throwing out scouts into the woods on either hand; and by an ill chance one of these scouts had seen them.

Their lives depended now upon their speed. One fact was in their favour: Lachlan knew from the whoops that they had heard that these Indians following their trail were Cherokees, not Appalaches, and the Cherokee war parties were generally unmounted. If they could reach the old trading road in time, they could outdistance these pursuers, provided no other enemies barred the way. Lachlan knew also how grave this danger was, knew that they could hardly hope to ride that road unseen and unchallenged. But the risk had to be faced. There was no choice now.

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 Halfway down the ridge Lachlan spoke briefly te Striking Hawk and Little Mink as they ran for a little space beside his horse. In the woods the two Muskogees easily kept pace with the horses, but in the open road this would be impossible. Yet Lachlan felt little anxiety for his two henchmen. Knowing their woodcraft, he was fairly confident that they could make their way through the forest to the Fort.

The woods thinned, the giant trees standing far apart. Just below lay the bottom of the valley, level almost as the palm of a man's hand—a long, narrow natural meadow of short green grass, starred with innumerable wild flowers; and straight down this valley, with the wooded heights rising on either side, ran the old trading road.

Lachlan's heart gave a leap. He had feared that here they might come upon another war party, for the road was a thoroughfare for the Cherokee bands; but save for two bunches of grazing deer, the valley was empty as far as his eye could see.

They were well out in the open heading for the road when a hoarse shout from Almayne startled them. The hunter was pointing with his rifle. Far away up the valley, where the road swung round a jutting promontory of woods, Lachlan saw a large party of Indians, some mounted, some on foot—evidently a mixed band of Appalaches and Cherokees, two hundred or more in number.

In an instant Lachlan knew that Almayne had not shouted rashly. They had already been seen. As he

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 gazed, the mounted Appalaches drew apart from the others, racing their ponies along the path, while behind them a cloud of dust whirled upward.

Almayne's voice shrilled like a trumpet: "Ride! Ride!" At full speed they dashed for the road and, reaching it, swung to the left down the valley. Jolie, glancing backward, saw O'Sullivan just behind her on his sorrel Chicasaw pony, and behind him Lachlan on Tuti the Snowbird, while some distance to the rear the two Muskogee warriors were bounding onward on foot.

The road passed through a belt of trees extending outward from the mountain side at a point where the valley narrowed; and Jolie, stealing another glance behind, saw that Little Mink and Striking Hawk were with them no longer. They had turned aside, she supposed, into the belt of timber; but there was no time to think of them now.

Her horse was abreast of Almayne's and she realized that he was shouting to her.

"To the left . . . when you reach the ford!" She could barely distinguish the words above the thunder of hoofs. In a moment she had drawn in front of Almayne and, head over shoulder, she saw O'Sullivan also pass the hunter.

Her hand tightened on the bridle rein. For an instant she believed that Almayne and Lachlan were holding back to fight the pursuers so that she could escape; but soon she saw that they were racing onward at utmost speed, and she knew that the time

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 to fight had not yet come—that not yet must she turn and die beside her lover.

Suddenly she heard, or thought that she heard, the faint sound of a shot, followed instantly by another. Again she looked back; and behind her she saw the pursuers dashing outward from the belt of trees—a swift-flowing stream of plunging horses and plumed and painted Indians half-hidden in swirls of dust.

Lachlan, too, had heard the shots and was looking back. Even as he watched, he saw an Indian pitch from his pony and plunge headlong to the ground, while another drew slowly to a halt, sat swaying a moment on his horse's back, then fell sideways heavily.

Lachlan laughed exultantly. Little Mink and Striking Hawk, in ambush in that belt of trees, had struck a hard blow at their enemies before beginning their flight through the woods.

But that blow checked the pursuit not an instant. Three riders turned back to help the unmounted Indians in the rear search the belt of timber whence the shots had come. The others, at least fifty in number, dashed on without pause, bending low on their ponies' backs, whooping, yelling, flourishing their rifles, their bows, and their long lances of hickory or cane pointed with bone or flint.

Through the dust swirls behind her Jolie caught glimpses of them now and then. A warrior on a white horse led them. Even at that distance she could see his headdress of pink flamingo feathers streaming in

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 the wind, could catch flashes of white and brilliant red in the tossing plumes of his followers.

The spectacle fascinated her, its wild and terrible beauty delighted her as no spectacle had ever delighted her before. There was no fear in her. Instead, a frenzy of exultation possessed her, and she gloried in the strength of her lissome body, in the skill of her horsemanship which neither Almayne nor Lachlan could excel. Of the four horses, hers was the swiftest; and she knew that she was getting his best out of him—that no other rider could have handled Selu better in that mad race.

And ever and always during that race she was thinking of Lachlan. Before her eyes his face shone; the pounding hoofs of the horses thundered his name. Womanly fear had gone from her; yet she was a woman still, for as she rode she exulted in the thought that he saw her now superbly, splendidly beautiful, with a kind of beauty that no woman had ever shown him before. Long ago she had lost her hat and her long hair streamed behind her like a flame. Again and again she looked back and saw that his eyes were upon her; and twice, swinging her slim body erect, she flung her hand high above her head and waved him a greeting through the dust.

The road crossed a brook, swung to the left around the steep wooded shoulder of a hill, turned sharply to the night again in a long loop. The surface was rocky and uneven here; of necessity she checked Selu's speed. Presently behind her she heard a burst

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 of shouts and yells. Out of the wootls to the right of the road the pursuers were streaming, so near at hand now that a little cry burst from her.

With a sudden tightening of the throat, Jolie realized what had happened—they had taken a shortcut around the other side of the hill and had reduced the distance by half.

It was a desperate race now—and soon it became not only a race but a battle. Some of the Appalaches were firing as they rode; three times the crack of rifles broke through the thunder of hoofs. It came over Jolie all at once that the end was near. She had loved horses, had talked with Lachlan often about them; and she remembered his telling her that the Spanish ponies of the Appalaches and their kindred, the Siminoles, were the swiftest in America.

Her hand tightened on Selu's rein, checking the claybank's stride. They would be overtaken soon, and she must be at Lachlan's side when that grim moment came.

Behind her she heard O'Sullivan shouting and, glancing back, she saw Lachlan close behind him and, close behind Lachlan, Almayne. Lachlan was waving to her furiously, urging her on. He drew his body erect and pointed ahead with his rifle; and swinging her gaze to the front again, she saw at the foot of a long, gentle, grassy slope the waters of a river glittering in the sun.

Her heels dug into Selu's flanks. Down the green slope she raced, the others crowding her close. Yet

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 hope was dead in her, for she saw their fate clearly now.

They had reached the ford too late. They would be shot from the bank as their horses struggled in the waters of the river.

She was almost at the water's edge and she bore to the left, remembering the words that Almayne had shouted to her. A strong arm gripped her waist, dragged her from Selu's back, swung her to the right, and flung her down. . ..

She lay bruised and half-dazed behind a great rock close to the water, and beside her Almayne and Lachlan were crouching, their rifles levelled, while beyond them O'Sullivan stood, lips tight, eyes blazing, his naked sword clenched in his hand. Down the long slope the Appalaches were charging, a torrent of yelling braves and plunging horses, rifles, tomahawks and lances waving, feathers streaming in the wind.

Almayne's rifle cracked; a moment later, Lachlan's. An Indian doubled over backward, sprawled for an instant on his horse's crupper, fell and rolled over and over in the grass. Simultaneously a piebald pony crumpled in full stride, sending his rider flying, and another pony, smashing into the fallen horse, fell also, as his rider leaped clear.

Still the others came on—an avalanche of plumed and painted warriors, riding high on their horses' backs, swinging their weapons madly, yelling like fiends from hell.

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 Nothing could stop them, Jolie knew. This was the end.

A coldness came upon her like the coldness of death, and with it an utter indifference to fate. It was as though she were a mere looker-on at some tremendous pageant; and the pageant thrilled her, filled her with a fierce, frenzied joy in its barbaric beauty.

For an instant this mad joy possessed her; then followed fear—fear that seemed to grip her throat with physical hands and stop her breath. They were so near now that for a frightful moment she saw their faces—the faces of demons, of devils, streaked and daubed with black, red, and yellow, the eyes ringed with glaring circles of white paint.

She tried to struggle to her feet, but her hand slipped on a loose fragment of shale, and she fell sideways so that her eyes were turned toward the river. Beyond the stream she saw a man leap upon a rock—a white man in the buff and blue of a Provincial Ranger. He waved his hat, and from the dense bushes fringing the river bank on either side of him burst little puffs and jets of flame and smoke. The bushes parted and men leaped out, ran along the bank, dashed into the water and began wading across—white men all of them, most of them in buff and blue, some in buckskins, all armed with rifles.

The trees beyond the river swayed and danced before her, swirled madly, then vanished in an allengulfing blackness. When she opened her eyes,

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 Lachlan had her in his arms, strange men with rifles in their hands were moving and talking all around her, and beside her Almayne was standing, his rifle levelled, its long black barrel resting on the rock in front of him.

She could not take her eyes from his face pressed against the rifle stock. It was the face of some fierce, fearless bird of prey—the face of a hunting hawk striking his victim. Moment after moment she waited. Would he never fire? At last she tore her eyes away.

Beyond the rock she saw men lying—brown, half-naked men, their limbs and their upturned faces fantastically streaked and ringed with paint, feathers of many colours in their heads—Indians, Appalaches, some eight or ten of them, sprawled in grotesque attitudes on the ground. Far up the slope, apparently well beyond rifle range, the main body of Appalaches were sitting their ponies, gesticulating, milling excitedly to and fro. A little apart from them, erect on his white horse, she saw the tall chief with the pink flamingo headdress. He sat facing the others, his back turned to the river. Evidently he was haranguing his followers, urging them to the attack, and as he spoke he flourished his long lance, waving it above his head.

Suddenly he wheeled his horse, flung his lance high in triumph and caught it as it fell. A moment he waited motionless, pointing down the slope, his bright plumes shining in the sunlight—horse and rider poised for the charge.

Beside Jolie, Almayne's rifle cracked. The chief

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 with the pink headdress sagged slowly forward on his horse's neck. The others, crowding round him, gripped his arms and held him on his horse as the whole body of them rode hurriedly up the slope and disappeared over the brow of the hill.

A short, bearded man in buff and blue, standing near Jolie, cursed delightedly, while others leaped upon the rock and cheered. Almayne turned te Lachlan with a grin.

"A far shot," he said coolly, "and a damned lucky shot. I got him just in time. Another half-second . . ."

Lachlan was scarcely conscious of the words. He was holding Jolie in his arms, smoothing the glistening hair above her temples.

In the book that Mr. Francis O'Sullivan wrote in his later years about the warfare of the Indians, he gives us a final glimpse of these two lovers.

It was God's Providence [he says] that as we reached the River a scouting Party from Fort Prince George were resting just across the Stream. They saw us coming and their sudden Volley from Ambush saved us, for nine Enemies fell and the rest broke and ran, believing they were in a Trap. While they were 'preparing a second Charge, which might well have overwhelmed us, Almayne with a marvellous long Shot killed their Leader, and they drew off out of Sight, so that we all got safely across and rode, with our Rescuers walking beside us, towards the Fort, which was some little distance down the River.

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 Now as I rode beside Almayne, with Lachlan and Jolie riding just ahead, there was a Shadow on my Heart; for I said to myself: Lachlan McDonald is of the Wilderness and must dwell there: he must return to his People in the Land of Tallasee or be false to his Trust. But Jolie is of England. She has known the Lights of London. Will they not beckon her to come back?

So I mused, like a pessimistickal old Fool, because by now I should have known this Woman.

When we were come out upon a wooded Eminence whence we could look down upon Fort Prince George, we reined in to enjoy the noble Prospect; and Lachlan and Jolie sat their Horses close beside me, so that I heard what passed between them.

"Where lies Tallasee?" she asked.

He pointed to the Southwest.

"A far Journey," she said thoughtfully. "Far from here and very far from London and the Hills of Hampshire."

She saw that his Eyes were troubled and she smiled at him.

"We shall live there," she said, "and I shall be the Wife of Lachlan McDonald, Prince of the Muskogee Nation and Chief of the Family of the Wind. I shall be very happy in Tallasee and I shall not pine for England."

He gazed at her strangely, and his black Eyes were marvellously bright.

"Sometimes," he told her, "we shall visit Charles

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text: Joshua Tree National Park 2004 Visitor Study/Methods


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 Town, for my People and the English live at Peace. And perhaps some Day we shall see London and the Hampshire Hills."

She seemed not to hear him.

"I wonder," she said softly, as though she were communing with her own Thoughts, "whether there will be a Minister in Fort Prince George."

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text: War Drums (Sass)

title: War Drums (Sass)


text: War Drums (Sass)/Foreword

title: War Drums (Sass)/Foreword


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 1

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 1


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 2

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 2


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 3

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 3


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 4

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 4


text: Joshua Tree National Park 2004 Visitor Study/Results


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 5

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 5


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 6

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 6


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 7

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 7


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 8

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 8


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 9

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 9


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 10

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 10


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 11

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 11


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 12

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 12


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 13

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 13


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 14

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 14


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 15

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 15


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 16

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 16


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 17

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 17


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 18

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 18


text:
Page:Joshua Tree National Park Visitor Study - Spring 2004.pdf/10

Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study The largest proportions of United States visitors were from California (76%), Washington (4%), New York (2%), and Arizona (2%), as shown in Map 1 and Table 4. Smaller proportions of U.S. visitors came from another 29 states and Washington D.C.

Figure 1: Visitor group sizes

Figure 2: Visitor group types


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 19

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 19


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 20

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 20


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 21

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 21


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 22

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 22


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 23

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 23


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 24

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 24


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 25

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 25


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Figure 3: Visitor ages

Figure 4: Visitor gender


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 26

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 26


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 27

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 27


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 28

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 28


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 29

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 29


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 30

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 30


text:
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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

'''Figure 5: Number of visits to Joshua Tree NP during visitor lifetime (including this visit)'''


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 31

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 31


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 32

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 32


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 33

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 33


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 34

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 34


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 35

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 35


text: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 36

title: War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 36


text:
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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Map 1: Proportion of United States visitors by state of residence


text:
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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Visitor groups were asked, “Prior to your visit, did you know that Joshua Tree NP has Congressionally designated wilderness areas?” Almost one-half of visitor groups (47%) knew about designated wilderness areas (see Figure 6). However, 46% did not know and 7% were “not sure.” When asked if they had visited the wilderness areas, 45% of visitor groups reported that they did not visit, while 24% visited and 31% were “not sure” (see Figure 7).

Figure 6: Visitor awareness of Congressionally designated wilderness areas in Joshua Tree NP

Figure 7: Visit designated wilderness areas?


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Most visitor groups (92%) obtained information about Joshua Tree NP prior to their visit to the park, while 8% did not receive any information (see Figure 8). As shown in Figure 9, the most common sources of information used by visitor groups included previous visits (52%), friends/relatives/word of mouth (43%), the Internet-NPS or Joshua Tree NP web site (39%), and travel guides/tour books (30%). Table 5 lists “other” sources of information that visitor groups used.

Visitor groups who obtained information about Joshua Tree NP prior to this visit were then asked whether they received needed information. Most visitor groups (90%) reported that they received the type of information about the park they needed (see Figure 10). However, 5% of visitor groups reported that they did not receive information they needed and 5% were “not sure.”

The type of information that visitor groups needed but were unable to obtain included details about campsites (location of each campground, new camping fees, reservations, handicapped accessibility, and group campsites), specific point of entry for park access, detailed maps of hiking trails, information about accommodations in the area, policies concerning pets on trails, and more information on flora, fauna, and historical features.

Figure 8: Visitors who received information about Joshua Tree NP prior to this visit


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Figure 9: Sources of information used by visitor groups prior to this visit


text:
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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Figure 10: Visitor groups who received needed information prior to this visit to Joshua Tree NP


text: User:SnowyCinema/P/Adventures in Thrift

title: User:SnowyCinema/P/Adventures in Thrift


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title: Page:Poems Osgood.djvu/26


text:
Portal:Bobbs-Merrill Company

Published

 * Adventures in Thrift (1916) by Anna Steese Richardson

title: Portal:Bobbs-Merrill Company


text:
Page:In ghostly Japan (IA cu31924014202687).pdf/93

NE of the never-failing attractions of the Tōkyō stage is the performance, by the famous Kikugorō and his company, of the Botan-Dōrō, or “Peony-Lantern.” This weird play, of which the scenes are laid in the middle of the last century, is the dramatization of a romance by the novelist Enchō, written in colloquial Japanese, and purely Japanese in local color, though inspired by a Chinese tale. I went to see the play; and Kikugorō made me familiar with a new variety of the pleasure of fear.

“Why not give English readers the ghostly part of the story?”—asked a friend who guides me betimes through the mazes of Eastern philosophy. “It would serve to explain some popular ideas of the supernatural which Western people know very little about. And I could help you with the translation.”


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 I gladly accepted the suggestion; and we composed the following summary of the more extraordinary portion of Enchō’s romance. Here and there we found it necessary to condense the original narrative; and we tried to keep close to the text only in the conversational passages,—some of which happen to possess a particular quality of psychological interest.

—This is the story of the Ghosts in the Romance of the Peony-Lantern:—

There once lived in the district of Ushigomé, in Yedo, a hatamoto called Iijima Heizayémon, whose only daughter, Tsuyu, was beautiful as her name, which signifies “Morning Dew.” Iijima took a second wife when his daughter was about sixteen; and, finding that O-Tsuyu


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 could not be happy with her mother-in-law, he had a pretty villa built for the girl at Yanagijima, as a separate residence, and gave her an excellent maidservant, called O-Yoné, to wait upon her.

O-Tsuyu lived happily enough in her new home until one day when the family physician, Yamamoto Shijō, paid her a visit in company with a young samurai named Hagiwara Shinzaburō, who resided in the Nedzu quarter. Shinzaburō was an unusually handsome lad, and very gentle; and the two young people fell in love with each other at sight. Even before the brief visit was over, they contrived,—unheard by the old doctor,—to pledge themselves to each other for life. And, at parting, O-Tsuyu whispered to the youth,—“''Remember! if you do not come to see me again, I shall certainly die!''”

Shinzaburō never forgot those words; and he was only too eager to see more of O-Tsuyu. But etiquette forbade him to make the visit alone: he was obliged to wait for some other chance to accompany the doctor, who had promised to take him to the villa a second time. Unfortunately the old man did not keep this


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 promise. He had perceived the sudden affection of O-Tsuyu; and he feared that her father would hold him responsible for any serious results. Iijima Heizayémon had a reputation for cutting off heads. And the more Shijō thought about the possible consequences of his introduction of Shinzaburō at the Iijima villa, the more he became afraid, Therefore he purposely abstained from calling upon his young friend.

Months passed; and O-Tsuyu, little imagining the true cause of Shinzaburō’s neglect, believed that her love had been scorned. Then she pined away, and died. Soon afterwards, the faithful servant O-Yoné also died, through grief at the loss of her mistress; and the two were buried side by side in the cemetery of Shin-Banzui-In,—a temple which still stands in the neighborhood of Dango-Zaka, where the famous chrysanthemum-shows are yearly held.

Shinzaburō knew nothing of what had happened; but his disappointment and his anxiety had resulted in a prolonged illness. He was


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 slowly recovering, but still very weak, when he unexpectedly received another visit from Yamamoto Shijō. The old man made a number of plausible excuses for his apparent neglect. Shinzaburō said to him:—

“I have been sick ever since the beginning of spring;—even now I cannot eat anything Was it not rather unkind of you never to call? I thought that we were to make another visit together to the house of the Lady Iijima; and I wanted to take to her some little present as a return for our Kind reception. Of course I could not go by myself.”

Shijo gravely responded,—

“I am very sorry to tell you that the young lady is dead.”

“Dead!” repeated Shinzaburō, turning white,—“did you say that she is dead?”

The doctor remained silent for a moment, as if collecting himself: then he resumed, in the quick light tone of a man resolved not to take trouble seriously:—

“My great mistake was in having introduced you to her; for it seems that she fell in love with you at once. I am afraid that you must have said something to encourage this


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NAWAB ABDUL MAJ1D KHAN DILER JUNG.

Nawab of Savmur.


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Vernon. <Sf Co. Bombay.

MAHARANA SHRI JORAVAR SINGHJI. Raja of Suntm-Rampur.


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SHRIMANT ABASAHEB PANT PRATINIDHI Chief of Vishalgakh.


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THAKOR SAHEB JASVANT S1NGHJI. Thakor Saheb of Waohwah.


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RAJ SAHEB AMAR SINGHJI. Raj Saheb of Wankaher


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 you were in that little room together. At all events, I saw how she felt towards you; and then I became uneasy,—fearing that her father might come to hear of the matter, and lay the whole blame upon me. So—to be quite frank with you,—I decided that it would be better not to call upon you; and I purposely stayed away for a long time. But, only a few days ago, happening to visit Iijima’s house, I heard, to my great surprise, that his daughter had died, and that her servant O-Yoné had also died. hen, remembering all that had taken place, I knew that the young lady must have died of love for you [Laughing] Ah, you are really a sinful fellow! Yes, you are! [Laughing] Is n’t it a sin to have been born so handsome that the girls die for love of you? … [Seriously] Well, we must leave the dead to the dead. It is no use to talk further about the matter;—all that you now can do for her is to repeat the Nembutsu … Good-bye.”


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title: Page:NBS Circular 553.djvu/50


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Page:Joshua Tree National Park Visitor Study - Spring 2004.pdf/18

Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Joshua Tree NP is facing a number of issues concerning natural and cultural resources. Visitor groups were asked if they were aware of such issues prior to this visit to the park. As shown in Figure 11, most visitor groups (73%) reported being aware of off-road vehicles damaging desert, 59% were aware of theft of natural resources, and 57% were aware of air pollution impacts. Less than one-half of visitor groups were aware of the other six issues.

When asked if they learned about these issues on this visit, 48% of visitor groups reported learning about problems with begging coyotes, 42% learned about threats to desert tortoise populations, and 39% learned about air pollution impacts (see Figure 12).

Figure 11: Visitor awareness of issues facing Joshua Tree NP


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Figure 12: Issues that visitor groups learned on this visit


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Visitor groups were asked to indicate how Joshua Tree NP fit into their travel plans. As shown in Figure 13, Joshua Tree NP was their primary destination for most groups (59%). Thirty-two percent of visitor groups reported that the park was one of several destinations and 9% reported that Joshua Tree NP was not a planned destination on this visit.

Figure 13: Visitor travel plans


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

The primary reason for visiting the Joshua Tree NP area, including Yucca Valley, Joshua Tree, and Twentynine Palms, was to visit the park for 85% of visitor groups, as shown in Figure 14. Seven percent of visitor groups came to visit friends/relatives, 4% for business or other reasons and another 4% came to visit other attractions in the area.

Figure 14: Primary reason for visiting Joshua Tree NP area


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 And the old man retired hastily,—anxious to avoid further converse about the painful event for which he felt himself to have been unwittingly responsible.

Shinzaburō long remained stupefied with grief by the news of O-Tsuyu’s death. But as soon as he found himself again able to think clearly, he inscribed the dead girl’s name upon a mortuary tablet, and placed the tablet in the Buddhist shrine of his house, and set offerings before it, and recited prayers. Every day thereafter he presented offerings, and repeated the Nembutsu; and the memory of O-Tsuyu was never absent from his thought.

Nothing occurred to change the monotony of his solitude before the time of the Bon,—the great Festival of the Dead,—which begins upon the thirteenth day of the seventh month. Then he decorated his house, and prepared everything for the festival;—hanging out the lanterns that guide the returning spirits, and setting the food of ghosts on the shōryōdana, or Shelf of Souls.


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 And on the first evening of the Bon, after sundown, he kindled a small lamp before the tablet of O-Tsuyu, and lighted the lanterns.

The night was clear, with a great moon,—and windless, and very warm. Shinzaburō sought the coolness of his veranda. Clad only in a light summer-robe, he sat there thinking, dreaming, sorrowing;—sometimes fanning himself; sometimes making a little smoke to drive the mosquitoes away. Everything was quiet. It was a lonesome neighborhood, and there were few passers-by. He could hear only the soft rushing of a neighboring stream, and the shrilling of night-insects.

But all at once this stillness was broken by a sound of women’s geta approaching—kara-kon, kara-kon;—and the sound drew nearer and nearer, quickly, till it reached the live-hedge surrounding the garden. Then Shinzaburō, feeling curious, stood on tiptoe, so as to look over the hedge; and he saw two women passing. One, who was carrying a beautiful lantern


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

On this visit, most visitor groups (54%) visited Joshua Tree NP on more than one day (24 hours) on this visit, while 46% spent less than one day (see Figure 15). Visitor groups were then asked to report the number of hours they spent at the park on the day they received the questionnaire. Note: because visitor groups were asked to report the number of hours on the day they received the questionnaire, some visitor groups included hours of their overnight stay. Therefore, the number of hours spent ranged from less than one hour to 24 hours. Thirty-two percent of visitor groups spent between three and four hours, 23% spent five to six hours, and 18% spent eleven hours or more (see Figure 16).

Visitor groups who spent more than one day were then asked the number of days they visited Joshua Tree NP on this visit. Less than one-half of visitor groups (44%) spent two days, 28% spent three days, and 24% spent four or more days.

One-half of visitor groups (50%) entered the park once, 26% entered twice, and 11% entered the park three times during this visit to Joshua Tree NP (see Figure 18).

On this visit, most groups (81%) arrived at Joshua Tree NP in one vehicle, 10% of visitor groups used two vehicles, and 9% arrived in three or more vehicles (see Figure 19).

Figure 15: Visitor groups who visited Joshua Tree NP on more than one day


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Figure 16: Number of hours spent at Joshua Tree NP on the day the questionnaire was received

Figure 17: Number of days spent visiting Joshua Tree NP


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Figure 18: Number of times entered Joshua Tree NP on this visit

Figure 19: Number of vehicles per group


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

The most common activities that visitor groups participated in during this visit to the Joshua Tree NP included sightseeing (83%), visiting visitor center(s) (58%), day hiking (56%), and walking self-guided nature trails (55%), as shown in Figure 20. The least common activity was backpacking overnight (2%). “Other” activities are listed in Table 6.

Figure 20: Visitor activities


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study {| width="80%" align="center" N=83 visitor groups; some visitor groups made more than one comment.
 * colspan="2" |
 * colspan="2" align="center" | Table 6: “Other” activities visitor groups participated in during this visit
 * colspan="2" align="center" | Table 6: “Other” activities visitor groups participated in during this visit
 * Activity
 * align="center" | Number of time mentioned
 * colspan="2" |
 * Photography
 * align="center" | 30
 * Wildflower viewing
 * align="center" | 10
 * Bird watching
 * align="center" | 9
 * Picnicking
 * align="center" | 7
 * Riding motorbike
 * align="center" | 3
 * Spending time with family/friends
 * align="center" | 3
 * Enjoying the beauty of this place
 * align="center" | 3
 * Driving through
 * align="center" | 3
 * Backcountry hiking
 * align="center" | 2
 * Wildlife watching
 * align="center" | 2
 * Cooking
 * align="center" | 2
 * Climbing/bouldering
 * align="center" | 2
 * Backcountry camping
 * align="center" | 1
 * Horseback riding
 * align="center" | 1
 * Picking up trash
 * align="center" | 1
 * Singing
 * align="center" | 1
 * Trail running
 * align="center" | 1
 * colspan="2" |
 * }
 * Climbing/bouldering
 * align="center" | 2
 * Backcountry camping
 * align="center" | 1
 * Horseback riding
 * align="center" | 1
 * Picking up trash
 * align="center" | 1
 * Singing
 * align="center" | 1
 * Trail running
 * align="center" | 1
 * colspan="2" |
 * }
 * Trail running
 * align="center" | 1
 * colspan="2" |
 * }
 * colspan="2" |
 * }


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Joshua Tree NP VSP Visitor Study

Visitor groups were asked a series of questions concerning their overnight accommodations in Joshua Tree NP and the surrounding area (including Yucca Valley, Joshua Tree, and Twentynine Palms). First, visitor groups were asked if they stayed overnight away from home in the area. Among the respondents, 54% reported they stayed overnight away from home in the park area, while 46% said that they did not stay overnight (see Figure 21).

Visitor groups who stayed overnight away from home were then asked to report the number of nights they stayed inside Joshua Tree NP and number of nights they stayed in the surrounding area. Thirty-four percent of visitor groups stayed two nights, 28% stayed one night, and 38% stayed three or more nights inside the park, as shown in Figure 22. Of those who stayed overnight in the area, 41% stayed one night, 27% stayed two nights, and 31% stayed three or more nights (see Figure 23).

The most common type of lodging that visitor groups used to stay overnight inside Joshua Tree NP was tent camping in a developed campground (80%), followed by RV/trailer camping (13%), as shown in Figure 24. Outside the park, a lodge/motel/hotel/cabin (69%) and RV/trailer camping (12%) were the most common types of lodging (see Figure 25). “Other” types of lodging included private condo, in a van, and Oasis Lodge.

Most visitor groups (76%) did not attempt to make reservations for campsites in Joshua Tree NP for this trip (see Figure 26). Of those who tried to make reservations, 82% were able to reserve their campsites, while 18% were not able to make reservations for this trip (see Figure 27).


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text: Index:General Investigations of Curved Surfaces, by Carl Friedrich Gauss, translated into English by Adam Miller Hiltebeitel and James Caddall Morehead.djvu


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 with peony-flowers, appeared to be a servant;—the other was a slender girl of about seventeen, wearing a long-sleeved robe embroidered with designs of autumn-blossoms. Almost at the same instant both women turned their faces toward Shinzaburō;—and to his utter astonishment, he recognized O-Tsuyu and her servant O-Yoné.

They stopped immediately; and the girl cried out,—

“Oh, how strange! … Hagiwara Sama!”

Shinzaburō simultaneously called to the maid:—

“O-Yoné! Ah, you are O-Yoné!—I remember you very well.”

“Hagiwara Sama!” exclaimed O-Yoné in a tone of supreme amazement. “Never could I have believed it possible! … Sir, we were told that you had died.”


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 190 grown persons, our men and our women. O God, those whom Thou dost keep alive amongst us, keep alive in Islám, and those whom thou causest to die, let them die in the Faith."

The Takbír is recited by the Imám aloud, but the Subhán, the Salám, the Darúd, and the Duaʾ, are recited by the Imám and the people in a low voice.

The people then seat themselves on the ground, and raise their hands in silent prayer in behalf of the deceased’s soul, and afterwards addressing the relatives they say, "It is the decree of God." To which the chief mourner replies, "I am pleased with the will of God." He then gives permission to the people to retire by saying, "There is permission to depart."

Those who wish to return to their houses do so at this time, and the rest proceed to the


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 Rh grave. The corpse is then placed on its back in the grave, with the head to the north and feet to the south, the face being turned towards Mecea. The persons who place the corpse in the grave repeat the following sentence: "We commit thee to earth in the name of God and in the religion of the Prophet."

The bands of the shroud having been loosed, the recess, which is called the láhd, is closed in with unburnt bricks and the grave filled in with earth. In some countries it is usual to recite the Súrat i Twá Háh as the clods: of earth are thrown into the grave; but this practice is objected to by the Wahhábís, and by many learned divines. This chapter is as follows:—

"From it (the earth) have We (God) created you, and unto it will We return you, and out of it will We bring you forth the second time."

After the burial, the people offer a fátihah (i.e., the first chapter of the Qurán) in the name of the deceased, and again when they have proceeded about forty paces from the grave they offer another fátihah; for at this juncture, it is said, the two angels Munkar and


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 “How extraordinary!” cried Shinzaburō. “Why, I was told that both of you were dead!”

“Ah, what a hateful story!” returned O-Yoné. “Why repeat such unlucky words? … Who told you?”

“Please to come in,” said Shinzaburō;—“here we can talk better. The garden-gate is open.”

So they entered, and exchanged greeting; and when Shinzaburō had made them comfortable, he said:—

“I trust that you will pardon my discourtesy in not having called upon you for so long a time. But Shijō, the doctor, about a month ago, told me that you had both died.”

“So it was he who told you?” exclaimed O-Yoné. “It was very wicked of him to say such a thing. Well, it was also Shijō who told us that you were dead. I think that he wanted to deceive you,—which was not a difficult thing to do, because you are so confiding and trustful. Possibly my mistress betrayed her liking for you in some words which found their way to her father’s ears; and, in that case, O-Kuni—the new wife—might have planned to make the doctor tell you that we were dead, so as to bring


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Index talk:Collection of Sacred Hymns.djvu

Style guide
Style guide is as follows: If in doubt, use Hymn 1 and Hymn 2 for reference. —Beleg Tâl (talk) 18:59, 17 February 2024 (UTC)
 * WS:MOS applies as always
 * Hymn titles:
 * Format like this:
 * Hymns:
 * Center the hymn using block center or similar template
 * Breaks between stanzas are regular paragraph breaks, rather than double line breaks.
 * This means you should avoid, which will add double line breaks.
 * I recommend placing  after every line except between stanzas; this will result in the correct markup.
 * Indent as required using em or gap.
 * Stanza numbering is 1 em wide.
 * Numbers to the right of the margin (e.g. Hymn 1) can be done like this:
 * Numbers to the left of the margin (e.g. Hymn 2) can be done like this:


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 192 Nakír examine the deceased as to his faith. After this, food is distributed to beggars and religious mendicants as a propitiatory offering to God, in the name of the deceased person.

If the grave be for the body of a woman, it should be to the height of a man's chest, if for a man, to the height of the waist. At the bottom of the grave the recess is made on the side to receive the corpse, which is called the láhad. The dead are seldom interred in coffins, although they are not prohibited.

To build tombs with stones or burnt bricks, or to write a verse of the Qurán upon them, is forbidden in the Hadís; but largest one and brick tombs are common to all Muhammadan countries, and very frequently they bear inscriptions.

On the third day after the burial of the dead, it is usual for the relatives to visit the grave, and to recite selections from the Qurán. Those who can afford to pay Maulavís, employ these learned men to recite the whole of the Qurán at the graves of their deceased relatives; and,


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 Rh as we have already remarked, in a former article, the Qurán is divided into sections to admit of its being recited by the several Maulavís at once. During the days of mourning the relatives abstain from wearing any article of dress of a bright colour, and their soiled garments remain unchanged.


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 about a separation. Anyhow, when my mistress heard that you had died, she wanted to cut off her hair immediately, and to become a nun. But I was able to prevent her from cutting off her hair; and I persuaded her at last to become a nun only in her heart. Afterwards her father wished her to marry a certain young man; and she refused. Then there was a great deal of trouble,—chiefly caused by O-Kuni;—and we went away from the villa, and found a very small house in Yanaka-no-Sasaki. There we are now just barely able to live, by doing a little private work My mistress has been constantly repeating the Nembutsu for your sake. To-day, being the first day of the Bon, we went to visit the temples; and we were on our way home—thus late—when this strange meeting happened.”

“Oh, how extraordinary!” cried Shinzaburō. “Can it be true?—or is it only a dream? Here I, too, have been constantly reciting the Nembutsu before a tablet with her name upon it! Look!” And he showed them O-Tsuyu’s tablet in its place upon the Shelf of Souls.

“We are more than grateful for your kind remembrance,” returned O-Yoné, smiling


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are four orthodox sects or schools of interpretation amongst the Sunnís, the Hanifi, the Sháfaʾí, the Málikí, and the Hambalí.

1. The Hanifis are found in Turkey, Central Asia, and North India. The founder of this sect was Imám Abu Hanífa, who was born at Koofa, the capital of Irák, 702, or  80, at which time four of the "Prophet's" companions were still alive. He is the great oracle of jurisprudence, and (with his two pupils Imám Abu Yusaf and Imám Muhammad) was the founder of the Hanifi Code of Law.

2. The Sháfaʾías are found in South India and Egypt. The founder of this school of interpretation was Imam Muhammad ibn i Idrís al


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Rh Shafaʾí, who was born at Askalon, in Palestine, 772 ( 150).

3. The Málikís prevail in Morocco, Barbary, and other parts of Africa, and were founded by Imám Málik, who was born at Madina, 716 ( 93). He enjoyed the personal acquaintance of Hanífa, and he was considered the most learned man of his time.

4, The Hambalis were founded by Imám Abu ʾAbdulláh Ahmad ibn Muhammad ibn Hambal, who was born at Bagdad, 786 ( 164). He attended the lectures delivered by Shafaʾí, by whom he was instructed in the traditions. His followers are found in Eastern Arabia, and in some parts of Africa, but it is the least popular of the four schools of interpretation. They have no Muftí at Mecca, whilst the other three sects are represented there. The Wahhábís rose from this sect.

From the disciples of these four great Imáms have proceeded an immense number of commentaries and other works, all differing on a variety of points in their constructions, although coinciding in their general principles.


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 “Now as for my mistress,”—she continued, turning towards O-Tsuyu, who had all the while remained demure and silent, half-hiding her face with her sleeve,—“as for my mistress, she actually says that she would not mind being disowned by her father for the time of seven existences, or even being killed by him, for your sake! … Come! will you not allow her to stay here to-night?”

Shinzaburō turned pale for joy. He answered in a voice trembling with emotion:—

“Please remain; but do not speak loud—because there is a troublesome fellow living close by,—a ninsomi called Hakuōdō Yusai, who tells people’s fortunes by looking at their faces. He is inclined to be curious; and it is better that he should not know.”


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 GENERAL INVESTIGATIONS

OF CURVED SURFACES

BY

KARL FRIEDRICH GAUSS

PRESENTED TO THE ROYAL SOCIETY, OCTOBER 8, 1827

1.

Investigations, in which the directions of various straight lines in space are to be considered, attain a high degree of clearness and simplicity if we employ, as an auxiliary, a sphere of unit radius described about an arbitrary centre, and suppose the different points of the sphere to represent the directions of straight lines parallel to the radii ending at these points. As the position of every point in space is determined by three coordinates, that is to say, the distances of the point from three mutually perpendicular fixed planes, it is necessary to consider, first of all, the directions of the axes perpendicular to these planes. The points on the sphere, which represent these directions, we shall denote by $(1),$  $(2),$  $(3).$ The distance of any one of these points from either of the other two will be a quadrant; and we shall suppose that the directions of the axes are those in which the corresponding coordinates increase.

2.

It will be advantageous to bring together here some propositions which are frequently used in questions of this kind.

I. The angle between two intersecting straight lines is measured by the arc between the points on the sphere which correspond to the directions of the lines.

II. The orientation of any plane whatever can be represented by the great circle on the sphere, the plane of which is parallel to the given plane.


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Shíaʾhs (lit. "followers") are the followers of ʾAli, the husband of Fatimah, the daughter of Muhammad. They maintain that ʾAli was the first legitimate Khalífa, or successor to Muhammad, and therefore reject Abu Bakr, Omar, and Osmán, the first three Khalifs, as usurpers. According to the Shíʾahs the Muslim religion consists of a knowledge of the true Imám, or leader, and the differences amongst themselves with reference to this question have given rise to endless divisions. Of the proverbial seventy-three sects of Islam, not fewer than thirty-two are assigned to the Shíaʾhs.

The twelve Imáms, according to the Shíaʾhs, are as follows:—

1. Hazrat ʾAli.

2. Hasan.

3. Husain.

4. Zain-ul-ʾAbid-dín.

5. Muhammad Báqr.


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Rh 6. Jáfir Sádiq.

7. Músa Kázim.

8. ʾAli Músa Razá.

9. Muhammad Taqí.

10. Muhammad Naqí.

11. Hasan ʾAskarí.

12. Abu Qásim (or Imám Mahdí).

The last Imám, Abu Qásim, is supposed by the Shíaʾhs to be still alive and concealed in some secret place; and that he is the same Mahdí, or director, concerning whom Muhammad prophesied that the world should not have an end until one of his own descendants should govern the Arabians, and whose coming in the last days is expected by all Muslims.

During the absence of the Imám, the Shíaʾhs appeal to the Mujtahids, or enlightened doctors of the law, for direction in all matters both temporal and spiritual. Since the accession of Ismaíl, the first of the Sufí dynasty, 1499, the Shíaʾh faith has been the national religion of Persia. The enmity which exists between Sunní and Shíaʾh Muhammadans is, perhaps, hardly equalled by the mutual animosity which too often exists between Romanists and Protestants.


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 III. The angle between two planes is equal to the spherical angle between the great circles representing them, and, consequently, is also measured by the arc intercepted between the poles of these great circles. And, in like manner, the angle of inclination of a straight line to a plane is measured by the arc drawn from the point which corresponds to the direction of the line, perpendicular to the great circle which represents the orientation of the plane.

IV. Letting $x,$  $y,$  $z;$ $x',$  $y',$  $z'$  denote the coordinates of two points, $r$  the distance between them, and $L$  the point on the sphere which represents the direction of the line drawn from the first point to the second, we shall have

$$\begin{aligned} x' &= x + r \cos(1)L \\ y' &= y + r \cos(2)L \\ z' &= z + r \cos(3)L \end{aligned}$$

V. From this it follows at once that, generally,

$$\cos^{2}(1)L + \cos^{2}(2)L + \cos^{2}(3)L = 1$$

and also, if $L'$  denote any other point on the sphere,

$$\cos(1)L.\cos(1)L' + \cos(2)L.\cos(2)L' + \cos(3)L.\cos(3)L' = \cos LL'.$$

VI. If $L,$ $L',$  $L,$  $L$  denote four points on the sphere, and $A$  the angle which the arcs $LL',$  $LL$  make at their point of intersection, then we shall have

$$\cos LL.\cos L'L - \cos LL.\cos L'L = \sin LL'.\sin LL'.\cos A $$

Demonstration. Let $A$ denote also the point of intersection itself, and set $$AL = t,\quad AL' = t',\quad AL = t,\quad AL = t .$$ Then we shall have

$$ \begin{alignedat}{3} &\cos L L &&= \cos t .&& \cos t  &&+ \sin t  && \sin t''  && \cos A  \\ &\cos L'L &&= \cos t' && \cos t &&+ \sin t' && \sin t''' && \cos A \\ &\cos L L &&= \cos t && \cos t &&+ \sin t  && \sin t''' && \cos A  \\ &\cos L'L &&= \cos t' && \cos t  &&+ \sin t' && \sin t''  && \cos A \end{alignedat} $$

and consequently,

$$\begin{aligned} & \cos LL.\cos L'L - \cos LL.\cos L'L \\ &\quad \begin{aligned} &= \cos A (\cos t \cos t  \sin t' \sin t         + \cos t' \cos t \sin t  \sin t \\ &\qquad  - \cos t  \cos t \sin t' \sin t         - \cos t' \cos t  \sin t  \sin t) \\ &= \cos A (\cos t  \sin t'   - \sin t   \cos t') (\cos t \sin t - \sin t \cos t) \\ &= \cos A.\sin (t' - t).\sin (t' - t) \\ &= \cos A.\sin LL'.\sin LL' \end{aligned} \end{aligned} $$


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216 It is not true that the Shíaʾh Muhammadans reject the Traditions of Muhammad, although the Sunnís arrogate to themselves the title of traditionists. They do not acknowledge the Siháh-i-Sita, or six correct books of the Sunnís and Wahhábís, but receive the five collections of Traditions, entitled: 1. Káfi; 2. Man-lá-yastabzirah-al-Faqíh; 3. Tahzíb; 4. Istibsár; 5. Nahaj-ul-Balághat.

The Shíaʾh school of law is called the Imámía, and it is earlier than that of the Sunnís; for Abu Hanífa, the father of the Sunní code of law, received his first instructions in jurisprudence from Imám Jáfir Sádiq, the sixth Imám of the Shíaʾhs; but this learned doctor afterwards separated from his teacher, and established a school of his own.

The differences between the Shíaʾhs and Sunnís are very numerous, but we will enumerate a few of them:—

1. The discussion as to the office of Imám, already alluded to.

2. The Shíaʾhs have a profound veneration


text: Collection of Sacred Hymns/Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken


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 Rh for Imám ʾAli, and some of their sects regard him as an incarnation of divinity. They all assert that next to the Prophet, ʾAli is the most excellent of men.

3. They observe the ceremonies of the Muharram in commemoration of ʾAli, Hasan, Husain, and Bíbí Fatimah, whilst the Sunnís only regard the tenth day of Muharram, the ʾA′shúráa, being the day on which God is said to have created Adam and Eve, etc.

4, The Shíaʾhs permit Mutaʾh, or temporary marriages, which are contracted for a limited period, and for a certain sum of money. The Sunnís say that Muhammad afterwards cancelled this institution.

5. The Shíaʾhs include the Majusí, or fire-worshippers, among the Ahl-i-Kitáb, or people of the Book, whilst Sunnís only acknowledge Jews, Christians, and Muslims, as Kitábíahs.

6. There are also various minor differences in the ceremony of Sulát, or prayer, and in the ablutions previous to prayer.

7. The Shíaʾhs admit a principle of religious compromise which is called Takía (lit. "guarding one's self"), a pious fraud, whereby the Shíaʾh Muhammadan believes he is justified


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 218 in either smoothing down or in denying the peculiarities of his religious belief in order to save himself from religious persecution. A Shíaʾh can, therefore, pass himself off as a Sunní, or even curse the twelve Imáms, in order to avoid persecution.


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 The two women remained that night in the house of the young samurai, and returned to their own home a little before daybreak. And after that night they came every night for seven nights,—whether the weather were foul or fair,—always at the same hour. And Shinzaburō became more and more attached to the girl; and the twain were fettered, each to each, by that bond of illusion which is stronger than bands of iron.

Now there was a man called Tomozō, who lived in a small cottage adjoining Shinzaburō’s residence. Tomozō and his wife O-Miné were both employed by Shinzaburō as servants. Both seemed to be devoted to their young master; and by his help they were able to live in comparative comfort.

One night, at a very late hour, Tomozō heard the voice of a woman in his master’s apartment; and this made him uneasy. He feared that Shinzaburō, being very gentle and affectionate, might be made the dupe of some cunning wanton,—in which event the domestics would be the first