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Rh $undefined$ where mention is made of the chastisement of the stars which “did not come at their appointed times”.This corresponds to the reproach administered to the moon, mentioned in BR, ''loc. cit., for having encroached upon the province of its colleague (=the sun), i.e., for having shone during the day.The myth sought to explain the appearance of the moon by day, which, owing to the superiority of the sun over it, was rather baffling to the primitive mind.Hullin, loc. cit.'', as well as the later addition in BR, does not present the myth in its original form.—That the sun and moon are endowed with wisdom and passion like man is originally a mythological conception which had been maintained for a long time by Jews and Christians.On this conception in pseudepigraphic literature and Philo, comp. Psalms of Solomon, end (the prayer at the appearance of the new-moon,, in present use, which is already found in Sanhedrin 42a, partly corresponds to this psalm); Apocalypse of Baruch 48.9; Enoch 2, 1–5, 3 (it is more than a poetic description of the order reigning in nature and the lack of order displayed by man); Philo, ''De Plant. Noe, 3; Be Somn. 1, 4 and 2, 16.On the rabbinic sources containing this view, comp., besides the passages referred to at the beginning of this note, also those cited in notes 102, 104, 105, 112.For the Christian sources, see Origen, 1, 7; Visio Pauli'' 4–6.Like the heavenly bodies, even so the earth, the plants, in short, all existing things, were conceived more or less by analogy to man; comp. note 193.—Concerning the motions of the heavenly bodies, the Books of Enoch, as well as the old rabbinic sources, contain a good deal of material which is on the boundary line of mythology and astronomy; comp. Pesahim 94a; Yerushalmi Rosh ha-Shanah 2, 58a; Baba Batra 25a; PK 29, 186a–186b; ER 2, 9–10; Hallel 89; Shir 3.11; see also the two writings Baraita di-Shemuel and Baraita di-Mazzalot, which are entirely devoted to this subject.Old material is found also in Raziel, which is particularly instructive for the history of astrology.Of interest is “the case” in which the disc of the sun is inserted (🇬🇷 “case”), a conception often mentioned in old rabbinic literature as well as in the writings of the Persians and Arabs (comp. Grünbaum, Gesammelte Aufsätze, 145–146).It is noteworthy that this “case” is known in rabbinic sources (BR 6.6; Koheleth 1.5; PK 29, 186a; Nedarim 8b; ‘Abodah Zarah 3b; Tehillim 19, 168 and 170; Tan. B. II, 98; Tan. Tezawweh 8; Hallel 89; Baraita di-Ma'aseh Bereshit 50) by the Greek word —Concerning the darkness of


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Rh get at us. If the worst comes to the worst we can anchor the boat and stay in it."

This decided, after some search they discovered a small cove, well protected from the sea, that appeared to offer a good landing place. The cove had a narrow entrance between the rocks, but widened out into a small lagoon, with water deep enough to enable the boys to bring their boat up close to a wide shelf of rock. They anchored the Sleuth then clambered up onto the rock.

"Feels good to stand on solid footing again," Joe commented.

"I'll say it does. Well, let's be starting. Which way shall we go? Is it to be north or south?"

"It doesn't matter much. To start with, we'll nose around among these rocks for a while."

The sun blazed on the bare crags as the boys picked their way over the rocks and boulders. Away in the interior they could see the waving tops of trees in the steaming marsh, but for the time being they contented themselves with exploring the rocky end of the island. It was quite barren and it appeared that no human being had ever set foot upon the place.

"You can't blame them, either," said Frank, when Joe had remarked or this fact. "It's

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 and dying embers with callous feet, and, standing over the light, lifted his cap, and exposed the bare head and weather-beaten features of the Leather-stocking. For a moment he gazed at the dusky figures who surrounded him, more in sorrow than in anger, before he spoke.

"What would ye have with an old and helpless man?" he said. "You've driven God's creaters from the wilderness, where his providence had put them for his own pleasure, and you've brought in the troubles and divilties of the law, where no man was ever known to disturb another. You have driven me, that have lived forty long years of my appointed time in this very spot, from my home and the shelter of my head, least you should put your wicked feet and wasty ways in my cabin. You've driven me to burn these logs, under which I've eaten and drunk, the first of Heaven's gifts, and the other of the pure springs, for the half of a hundred years, and to mourn the ashes under my feet, as a man would weep and mourn for the children of bis body. You've rankled the heart of an old man, that has never harmed you or your'n, with bitter feelings towards his kind, at a time when his thoughts should be on a better world; and you've driven him to wish that the beasts of the forest, who never feast on the blood of their own families, was his kindred and race; and now, when he has come to see the last brand of his hut, before it is melted into ashes, you follow him up, at midnight, like hungry hounds on the track of a worn-out and dying deer! What more would ye have? for I am here—one to many. I come to mourn, not to fight; and, if it is God's pleasure, work your will on me."

When the old man ended, he stood, with the light glimmering around his thinly-covered head, looking earnestly at the group, which receded


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 from the pile, with an instinctive and involuntary movement, without the reach of the quivering rays, leaving a free passage for his retreat into the bushes, where pursuit, in the dark, would have been fruitless. Natty seemed not to regard this advantage, but stood facing each individual in the circle, in succession, as if to see who would be the first to arrest him. After a pause of a few moments, Richard begun to rally his confused faculties, and advancing, apologized for his duty, and made him his prisoner. The party now collected, and, preceded by the Sheriff, with Natty in their centre, they took their way towards the village.

During the walk, divers questions were put to the prisoner concerning his reasons for burning the hut, and whither Mohegan had retreated, but to all of them he observed a profound silence, until, fatigued with their previous duties, and the lateness of the hour, the Sheriff and his followers reached the village, and dispersed to their several places of rest, after turning the key of a gaol on the aged and apparently friendless Leather-stocking.


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 His soft whimpering aroused Silver. The she wolf could not know that her mate was living over again the delicious thrill of feeling a woman’s soft hand upon his head. Silver’s irritable nip always brought him back to the grim present and he was instantly awake, the cold yellow eyes sweeping the country for sign of his most bitter enemy, man.

The last week in February they came to the rough country at the head of Powder River. Silver grew less and less inclined to travel far and panted heavily when she ran. A chinook swept across the hills and this warm wind softened the frozen ground in spots that had blown free of snow. Silver chose a place where the earth was deep and started to excavate.

Flash watched her and when she tired and backed from the hole he took her place, tearing at the dirt with his great forepaws and pushing it out behind. He withdrew, shaking the dirt from his coat, and viewed this start of their home with pride.

Silver was very irritable these days, snapping at his approach. He turned his shoulder to her shrewish slashes and stalked stiffly out of reach. One night he came home to find a new scent in

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 the den. Soft snifflings and squeaks issued from the depths of the hole. As he prepared to enter a savage snarl warned him off.

His curiosity was great and he wished to know more of this miracle but not until the pups were three weeks old did Silver let them come out for a romp on the sunny slope and Flash then saw them for the first time. Every night he had brought meat to the den and this was the result. He was very much excited as he nosed them over and Silver growled a warning not to be too rough when he rolled them around with his huge forepaw.

He was never allowed to occupy the den, which was just as well for in any event he could not have been induced to spend a day inside of it. He had seen Moran dig out the swift-fox den on Peace Creek. Once Harmon, the ranger, had found a hole and dropped into it a stick of something with a spluttering fuse attached. Shortly after they ran away there had sounded a roar as of several guns and Flash had watched Harmon dig out the crushed bodies of a coyote and her pups. So he spent the days alone in the hills and carried food at night.

The snow had melted from the foothills, leav-

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 ing only the heavy drifts. As soon as the pups could follow, they were led forth at night and taught the arts of hunting and the dangers they must avoid. By the middle of April they could cover thirty miles in one night.

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 native young men, tempting them from nobler careers, and forming them into a sort of wall-class between the English official and the main body of the native population. Take, for example, the number of Government servants at the Gold Coast, according to Sir William Maxwell, 1897;— An awful percentage of clerks is 311 for such a country, more clerks than police, only 121 less Government native clerks than soldiers in the army; and you may depend upon it the white officials are clerking away, more or less, too. I always think how very apposite the answer of an official was to the criticism of excessive expenditure: "Sir, there is no reckless expenditure; every J pen has to be accounted for!"

No, I am quite unable to agree that anything but the Crown Colony system is to blame, and that because it is engaged in administering a district with no possibilities in it for England save commercial matters, in which the Crown Colony system is not well informed. I have only quoted these figures to show you that Lagos and the Gold Coast are merely keeping line with Sierra Leone—increasing their expenditure in the face of a falling trade, with a dark trade future before them, on account of French activity in cutting them off from their inland markets, and of their own mismanagement of the native races.

The trade and the prosperity of West Africa depend on jungle products. There is no more solid reason to fear the extinction of West Africa's jungle products of oil, timber,

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 * "Fetch here the stocks, ho!

You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart, We'll teach you." Lear.

long days and early sun of July allowed time for a gathering of the interested, before the little bell of the academy announced that the appointed hour had arrived for administering right to the wronged, and punishment to the guilty. Ever since the dawn of day, the highways and wood-paths that, issuing from the forests, and winding along the sides of the mountains, centered in Templeton, had been thronged with equestrians and footmen, bound to the haven of justice. There was to be seen a well-clad yeoman, mounted on a sleek, switch-tailed steed, ambling along the highway, with his red face elevated in a manner that said, "I have paid for my land, and fear no man," while his bosom was swelling with the conscious pride of being one of the grand inquest for the county. At his side rode a companion, his equal in independence of feeling, perhaps, but his inferior in thrift, as in property and consideration. This was a professed dealer in lawsuits—a man whose name appeared in every calendar: whose substance, gained in the multifarious ex-


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 ]

In his speech which the closure of June prevented from being delivered, but which he printed and circulated, he was more emphatic still.

"I dare to affirm that the opinion as expressed in the Schema is not a doctrine of the faith, and never can become such by any definition even of a Council."

On the 13th of July Archbishop Kenrick voted in the negative, signed the protest of the 17th, and with the body of the opposition fled away. Having thus registered his informal and useless protest he accepted the new Decree. This surrender provoked a letter from Lord Acton asking the Archbishop for the grounds of his submission. History has preserved the pages of Kenrick's reply. He said that "sufficient time seems to have elapsed to allow the Catholic world to decide whether or not the decree of the Council was to be accepted." The greater number of the Bishops, some to the Archbishop's surprise, had already yielded assent. As for himself—

"I could not defend the Council or its action; but I always professed that the acceptance of either by the Church would supply its deficiency. I accordingly made up my mind to submit to what appeared inevitable, unless I were prepared to separate myself


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 fibre, rubber, than there is to worry about the extinction of our own coal-fields—probably not so much—for they rapidly renew themselves. Yes, even rubber, though that is slower at it than palm oil and kernel; and at present not one-tenth part of the jungle products are in touch with commerce; and save gold, and that to a very small extent, the mineral wealth of West Africa is untouched. It is not in all regions only titaniferous iron; there are silver, lead, copper, antimony, quicksilver, and tin ores there unexploited, and which it would not be advisable to attempt to exploit until the so-called labour problem is solved. This problem is really that of the co-operation for mutual benefit of the African and the Englishman. In the solution of this problem alone lies the success of England in West Africa, not of England herself, for England could survive the loss of West Africa whole, though doing so would cost her dear alike in honour and in profit. The Crown Colony system which now represents England in West Africa will never give this solution. It necessarily destroys native society, that is to say, it disorganises it, and has not in it the power to reorganise. As I have already endeavoured to show, English influence in West Africa, as represented by the Crown Colony system, consists of three separate classes of Englishmen with no common object of interest, and is not a thing capable of organising so difficult a region. All these three classes, be it granted, each represent things for the organisation of a State. No State can exist without having the governmental, the religious, and the mercantile factors, working together in it; but in West Africa these representatives of the English State are things apart and opposed to each other, and do not constitute a State. You might as

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 pedients of a settler's changeable habits, was wasted in feeding the harpies of the courts. He was endeavouring to impress the mind of the grand juror with the merits of a cause that was now at issue. Along with these two was a pedestrian, who, having thrown a rifle frock over his shirt, and placed his best wool hat above his sunburnt visage, had issued from his retreat in the woods by a footpath, and was striving to keep company with the others, at an unequal gait, on his way to hear and to decide the disputes of his neighbours as a petit juror.

By ten o'clock the streets of the village were filled with groups of men with busy faces, some talking of their private concerns, some listening to a popular expounder of political creeds, and others gaping in at the open stores, admiring the finery, or examining sithes, axes, and such other manufactures as attracted their curiosity or excited their admiration. A few women were to be observed in the crowd, mostly carrying infants in their arms, and followed, at a lounging, listless gait, by their rustic lords and masters. There was one young couple, in whom the warmth of connubial love was yet new, walking among the moving throng, both dressed in their back-wood finery, at a respectful distance from each other, while the swain directed the timid steps of his bride by the unbending motions of an extended arm, to which she was appended by grasping his thumb.

At the first-stroke of the bell, Richard issued from the front door of the "Bold Dragoon," flourishing in his hand a sheathed sword, that he was fond of saying his ancestors had carried in one of Cromwell's victories, and crying, in an authoritative tone, to "clear the way for the court." The order was obeyed promptly, though not ser-


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n hour before daylight Flash slipped up to the den. It was cold and silent. At sunrise of the previous day a rider had passed close to the den. Silver had run true to she-wolf form and departed with the pups as soon as he was out of sight. The day had been hot and had diffused and evaporated the scent of her trail. The night frost had finished blotting it out.

Flash had circled for miles in the effort to pick up the scent but could find no trace and there was no answer to his calls.

Far to the north Silver and the sturdy pups were traveling steadily, headed for the she wolf’s old hunting grounds from which the winter’s famine had driven her. Just at daybreak she turned on the crest of a divide and gazed back along her trail, then loosed one last wail for the mate who never came and journeyed on to the north.

Flash too, was starting for his old home—the BarT range. The third day he spent on the rim

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 302 at least in the judgment of most Catholics from the Church."

His act of submission "was one of pure obedience, and was not grounded on the removal of my motives of opposition to the decrees, as referred to in my speech, and set forth in my pamphlets." He hears from Rome that the Pope requires him to retract his pamphlets. "This I shall not do, no matter what the consequences may be."

For intellectual justification in this submission Kenrick appealed to Newman's theory of Development. If it justified Newman in becoming a Catholic, "I thought that it might justify me in remaining one." To this the Archbishop added the following memorable sentence:—

His whole experience, he says, has taught him that there can be no liberty in any future sessions of the Council; and this is warning enough to Bishops that they must not handle roughly the delicate matters on which they have to decide.

The records of intellectual servitude present few more painful documents than this. Whether one regards the doctrine, the Archbishop, or the facts of history, such an attitude bristles with intellectual if not moral inconsistencies. He thinks acceptance by the Church will


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 of the Wind River hills, awaiting nightfall before venturing down among the familiar scenes of the Greybull. At the upper end of the valley where it was narrowest he crossed to the foothills that flanked the other side and started down to the BarT ranch.

When thirty miles from his destination, a point of light in a shallow foothill basin caught his eye. He drew near and partly circled the cabin, undecided whether to go on or not. He did not know this place. Moran had never taken him to Brent’s. The lighted window attracted him and he trotted close. Several horses stood saddled in the yard.

Flash slipped to the door and sniffed along the crack. The tobacco smoke drowned the individual scent of each man within but the general air of the place and the murmur of voices was not to his liking. There was something vaguely and unpleasantly familiar about it all; and suddenly the hair rose along his spine as he recalled the night at Two Ocean Pass when he had searched among the bald ridges and heavy spruce for the phantom camp which he never found—the voices and smells that had reminded him of Brent.

He reared to his great height, rested his fore-

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 well expect to get the functions of a State, good government, out of these three disconnected classes of Englishmen in Africa, as expect to know the hour of day from the parts of a watch before they were put together.

You will see I have humbly attempted to place this affair before you from no sensational point of view, but from the commercial one—the value of West Africa to England's commerce—and have attempted to show you how this is suffering from the adherence of England to a form of government that is essentially un-English. I have made no attack on the form of government for such regions formulated in England's more intellectual though earlier period of Elizabeth, the Chartered Company system as represented by the Royal Niger Company. I have neither shares in, nor reason to attack the Royal Niger Company, which has in a few years, and during the period of the hottest French enterprise, acquired a territory in West Africa immensely greater than the territory acquired during centuries under the Crown Colony system; it has also fought its necessary wars with energy and despatch, and no call upon Imperial resources; it has not only paid its way, but paid its shareholders their 6 per cent., and its bitterest enemies say darkly, far more. I know from my knowledge of West Africa that this can only have been effected by its wise native policy. I know that this policy owes its wisdom and its success to one man, Sir George Taubman Goldie, a man who, had he been under the Crown Colony system, could have done no more than other men have done who have been Governors under it; but, not being under it, the territories he won for England have not been subjected to the jerky amateur policy of those which are under the Crown Colony system. For nearly twenty years the natives

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 paws on the window ledge and looked inside.

Three men sat there with Brent. A ragged scar lined the face of one from ear to chin and his stubbly red beard sprouted at eccentric angles along the line of it, lending a sinister twist to his face. Another was a dark, slender faced man with a hint of the Oriental in look and manner. The head of the third was wide and flat on top, slanting down abruptly to his pointed chin which gave a fox-like cast to his triangular countenance.

At a sudden move from the man with the scar Flash dropped from the window, and as his feet touched the ground the glass crashed above him and there was a jarring report from within. He ran, and behind him the muffled roar sounded twice again.

The man had leaped suddenly to his feet and at the look in his eyes the others dropped flat to the floor as he shot twice across them at the window. Brent swept the lantern from the table and another, from his prone position, fired through the door, then followed his shot and sprang outside. They scattered through the night and threw themselves flat upon the ground.

Twenty minutes later Brent’s voice broke the silence.

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 vilely; the members of the crowd nodding familiarly to the members of the procession, as it passed. A party of constables with their staves followed the Sheriff, preceding Marmaduke, and four plain, grave-looking yeomen, who were his associates on the bench. There was nothing to distinguish these subordinate judges from the better part of the spectators, except gravity, which they affected a little more than common, and that one of their number was attired in an old-fashioned military coat, with skirts that reached no lower than the middle of his thighs, and bearing two little silver epaulettes, not half so big as a modern pair of shoulder knots. This gentleman was a colonel of the militia, in attendance on a court-martial, who found leisure to steal a moment from his military, to attend to his civil jurisdiction. But this incongruity was nothing; it excited neither notice nor comment. Three or four clean-shaved lawyers followed, as meekly as if they were lambs going to the slaughter, one or two of whom had contrived to obtain an air of scholastic gravity, by wearing spectacles. The rear was brought up by another posse of constables, and the mob followed the whole into the room where the court held its sittings.

The edifice was composed of a basement of squared logs, perforated here and there with small grated windows, through which a few wistful faces were gazing at the crowd without, among which were the guilty, downcast countenances of the counterfeiters, and the simple but honest features of the Leather-stocking. The dungeons were to be distinguished, externally, from the debtor's apartments, only by the size of the apertures, the thickness of the grates, and by the heads of spikes that were driven into the logs as a protection against the illegal use of edge-


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 “What the hell started you off that way, Hanlin?” he demanded. “I’ve made a circle around and there’s no one near.”

“He was at the window,” Hanlin said. “Ask Harte. Didn’t Harte open on the door at the same time?”

“Mere presence of mind,” a cool voice answered from the night. “I didn’t see a soul. When you started shooting I took it for granted they had jumped us and cleared the door for a break outside. You're getting spooky, Red.”

“I saw him, I tell you!” Hanlin snapped. “He was looking in at us.”

“We can easy tell,” said Harte. He strode to the window and sheltered a match with his hand while he studied the ground beneath it. The others peered down over his shoulder at the big prints in the dust.

“A stray dog,” Harte said indifferently. “But he evidently looked like a marshal to Red.”

“He makes a track as big as that beast Clark Moran had,” said Brent. He traced a finger along a ridge in his scalp and swore. “I’d like to have got a chance at that big gray brute before the BarT outfit killed him off.”

“It’s proof of a low order of mentality to let

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 light through the gloom, laying hare the whole opposite horizon, was followed by a loud crash of thunder, that rolled away among the hills, seeming to shake the foundations of the earth to their centre. Mohegan raised himself, as if in obedience to a signal for his departure, and stretched forth his wasted arm towards the west. His dark face lighted with a look of joy; which, with all other expression, gradually disappeared; the muscles stiffening as they retreated to a state of rest; a slight convulsion played, for a single instant, about his lips; and his arm slowly dropped, rigid and motionless, by his side; leaving the frame of the dead warrior reposing against the rock, with its glassy eyes open, and fixed on the distant hills, as if the deserted shell were tracing the flight of the spirit to its new abode.

All this Mr. Grant witnessed, in silent awe; but when the last echoes of the thunder died away, he clasped his hands together, with pious energy, and repeated, in the full rich tones of as sured faith—

"O Lord! how unsearchable are thy judgments: and thy ways past finding out! 'I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: And though after my skin, worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God; whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another.'"

As the divine closed this burst of devotion, he bowed his head meekly to his bosom, and looked all the dependence and humility that the inspired language expressed.

When Mr. Grant retired from the body, the hunter approached, and taking the rigid hand of his friend, looked him wistfully in the face for some time without speaking; when he gave vent to his


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 powerful working of every muscle in his weather beaten face, suffered him to speak, he replied—

"No—no—he trusts only to the Great Spirit of the savages, and to his own good deeds. He thinks, like all his people, that he is to be young ag'in, and to hunt, and be happy to the ind of etarnity. It's pretty much the same with all colours, parson. I could never bring myself to think that I shall meet with these hounds, or my piece, in another world; though the thoughts of leaving them for ever, sometimes brings hard feelings over me, and makes me cling to life with a greater craving than beseems three-score-and-ten."

"The Lord in his mercy, avert such a death from one who has been sealed with the sign of the cross!" cried the minister, in holy fervour. "John—"

He paused; for the scene, and the elements, seemed to conspire to oppress the powers of humanity. During the period occupied by the events which we have related, the dark clouds in the horizon had continued to increase in numbers and magnitude; and the awful stillness that now pervaded the air, announced a crisis in the state of the atmosphere. The flames, which yet continued to rage along the sides of the mountain, no longer whirled in the uncertain currents of their own eddies, but blazed high and steadily towards the heavens. There was even a quietude in the ravages of the destructive element, as if it foresaw that a hand, greater than even its own desolating power, was about to stay its progress. The piles of smoke which lay above the valley began to rise, and were dispelling rapidly; and streaks of vivid lightning were dancing through the masses of clouds that impended over the western hills. While Mr. Grant was speaking, a flash, which sent its quivering


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 ways. I should think 'twould be as well to let the old man pass in peace. He's happy now; I know it by his eye; and that's more than I would say for the chief, sin' the time the Delawares broke up from the head-waters of their river, and went west. Ahs! me! 'tis a grievous long time that, and many dark days have we both seen together, sin' it."

"Hawk-eye!" said Mohegan, rousing with the last glimmering of life. "Hawk-eye! listen to the words of your brother."

"Yes, John," said the hunter, in English, strongly affected by the appeal, and drawing to his side; "we have been brothers; and more so than it means in the Indian tongue. What would ye have with me, Chingachgook?"

"Hawk-eye! my fathers call me to the happy hunting-grounds. The path is clear, and the eyes of Mohegan grow young. I look—but I see no white-skins; there are none to be seen but just and brave Indians. Farewell, Hawk-eye—you shall go with the Fire-eater and the Young Eagle, to the white man's heaven; but I go after my fathers. Let the bow, and tomakawk, and pipe, and the wampum, of Mohegan, be laid in his grave; for when he starts 'twill be in the night, like a warrior on a war-party, and he cannot stop to seek them."

"What says he, Nathaniel?" cried Mr. Grant, earnestly, and with obvious anxiety; "does he recall the promises of the mediation? and trust his salvation to the Rock of ages?"

Although the faith of the hunter was by no means clear, yet the fruits of early instruction had not entirely fallen in the wilderness. He believed in one God, and in one heaven; and when the strong feeling excited by the leave-taking of his old companion, which was exhibited by the


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 lie? No; for the truth lived in him, and none else could come out of him. In his youth, he was a warrior, and his moccasins left the stain of blood. In his age, he was wise; and his words at the council fire did not blow away with the winds."

"Ah! he has abandoned that vain relic of paganism, his songs," cried the good divine;— "what says he now? is he sensible of his lost state?"

"Lord! man," said Natty, "he knows his ind is at hand as well as you or I, but, so far from thinking it a loss to him, he believes it to be a great gain. He is now old and stiff, and you've made the game so scearce and shy, that better shots than him find it hard to get a livelihood. Now he thinks he shall travel where it will always be good hunting; where no wicked or unjust Indians can go; and where he shall meet all his tribe together ag'in. There's not much loss, in that, to a man whose hands be hardly fit for basket-making. Loss! if there be any loss, 'twill "be to me. I'm sure, after he's gone, there will be but little left for me to do but to follow."

"His example and end, which, I humbly trust, shall yet be made glorious," returned Mr. Grant, "should lead your mind to dwell on the things of another life. But I feel it to be my duty to smooth the way for the parting spirit. This is the moment, John, when the reflection that you did not reject the mediation of the Redeemer, will bring balm to your soul. Trust not to any act of former days, but lay the burthen of your sins at his feet, and you have his own blessed assurance that he will not desert you."

"Though all you say be true, and you have scripter gospels for it, too," said Natty, "you will make nothing of the Indian. He hasn't seen a Moravian priest sin' the war; and it's hard to keep them from going back to their native


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 "I will come! I will come! to the land of the just I will come! No Delaware fears his end; no Mohican shrinks from death; for the Great Spirit calls, and he goes. My father I have honoured; I have cherished my mother; to my tribe I've been faithful and true. The M aquas I have slain!—I have slain the Maquas! and the Great Spirit calls to his son. I will come! I will come! to the land of the just I will come!"

"What says he, Leather-stocking?" inquired the priest, with tender interest; "sings he the Redeemer's praise?"

"No, no—'tis his own praise that he speaks now," said Natty, turning in a melancholy manner from the sight of his dying friend; "and a good right he has to say it all, for I know every word of it to be true."

"May Heaven avert such self-righteousness from his heart!" exclaimed the divine. "Humility and penitence are the seals of Christianity; and without feeling them deeply seated in the soul, all hope is delusive, and leads to vain expectations. Praise himself! when his whole soul and body should unite to praise his Maker! John! you have enjoyed the blessing of a gospel ministry, and have been called from out a multitude of sinners and pagans, and, I trust, for a wise and gracious purpose. Do you now feel what it is to be justified by your Saviour's death, and reject all weak and idle dependence on good works, that spring from man's pride and vain-glory?"

The Indian did not regard his interrogator, but he raised his head again, and said, in a low, distinct voice—

"Who can say that the Maquas know the back of Mohegan! What enemy that trusted in him did not see the morning? What Mingo that he chased over sung the song of triumph? Did Mohegan ever


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 under the Royal Niger Company have had the firm, wise, sympathetic friendship of a great Englishman, who understood them, and knew them personally. It is the continuous influence of one great Englishman, unhampered by non-expert control, that has caused England's exceedingly strange success in the Niger; coupled with the identity of trade and governmental interest, and the encouragement of religion given by the constitution and administration of the Niger Company. This is a thing not given by all Chartered Companies; indeed, I think I am right in saying that the Niger and the North Borneo Companies stand alone in controlling territories that have been essentially trading during recent years. This association of trade and government is, to my mind, an absolutely necessary restraint on the Charter Company form of government; but there is another element you must have to justify Charters, and that is that they are in the hands of an Englishman of the old type.

I am perfectly aware that the natives of Lagos and other Crown Colonies in West Africa are, and have long been, anxious for the Chartered Company of the Niger to be taken over by the Government, as they pathetically and frankly say, "so that now the trade in their own district is so bad, it may get a stimulus by a freer trade in the Niger," and the native traders not connected with the Company may rush in; while officials in the Crown Colonies have been equally anxious, as they say with frankness no less pathetic, so that they may have chances of higher appointments. I am equally aware that the merchants of England not connected with the Niger Company, which is

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 really an association of African merchants, desire its downfall; yet they all perfectly well know, though they do not choose to advertise the fact, that three months Crown Colony form of government in the Niger territories will bring war, far greater and more destructive than any war we have yet had in West Africa, and will end in the formation of a debt far greater than any debt we now have in West Africa, because of the greater extent of territory and the greater power of the native States, now living peacefully enough under England, but not under England as misrepresented by the Crown Colony system. I am not saying that Chartered Companies are good; I am only saying they are better than the Crown Colony plan; and that if the Crown Colony system is substituted for the Chartered Company, which is directly a trading company, England will have to pay a very heavy bill. There would be, of course, a temporary spurt in trade, but it would be a flash in the pan, and in the end, an end that would come in a few years' time, the British taxpayer would be cursing West Africa at large, and the Niger territories in particular. Personally, I entirely fail to see why England should be tied to either of these plans, the Crown Colony or the Chartered Company, for governing tropical regions. Have we quite run out of constructive ability in Statecraft? Is it not possible to formulate some new plan to mark the age of Victoria?

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 praise be to God, that I see you all safe and well."

"No, no," returned the hunter; "safe we be, but as for well, John can't be called in a good way, unless you'll say that for a man that's taking his last look at the 'arth."

"He speaks the truth!" said the divine, with the holy awe with which he ever approached the dying;—"I have been by too many death-beds, not to see that the hand of the tyrant is laid on this old warrior. Oh! how consoling it is, to know that he has not rejected the offered mercy, in the hour of his strength and of worldly temptations! The offspring of a race of heathens, he has in truth been 'as a brand plucked from the burning.'"

"No, no," returned Natty, who alone stood with him by the side of the dying warrior, "it's no burning that ails him, though his Indian feelings made him scorn to move, unless it be the burning of man's wicked thoughts for near fourscore years; but it's nater giving out in a chase that's run too long. Down with ye, Hector! down, I say!—Flesh isn't iron, that a man can live for ever, and see his kith and kin driven to a far country, and he left to mourn, with none to keep him company."

"John," said the divine, tenderly, "do you hear me? do you wish the prayers appointed by the church, at this trying moment?"

The Indian turned his ghastly face to the speaker, and fastened his dark eyes on him, steadily, but vacantly. No sign of recognition was made; and in a moment he moved his head again slowly towards the vale, and begun to sing, using his own language, in those low, guttural tones, that have been so often mentioned, his notes rising with his theme, till they swelled to fulness, if not to harmony;—


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 Elizabeth took from the hand of Edwards the liquor which he offered, and then motioned to be left again to herself.

The youth turned at her bidding, and observed Natty kindly assiduous around the person of Mohegan. When their eyes met, the hunter said sorrowfully—

"His time has come, lad; I see it in his eye:—when an Indian fixes his eye, he means to go but to one place; and what the wilful creaters put their minds on, they're sure to do."

A quick tread diverted the reply of the youth, and in a few moments, to the amazement of the whole party, Mr. Grant was seen clinging to the side of the mountain, and striving to reach the place where they stood. Oliver sprang to his assistance, and by their united efforts, the worthy divine was soon placed safely among them.

"How came you added to our number?" cried Edwards; "Is the hill alive with people, at a time like this?"

The hasty, but pious thanksgivings of the clergyman were soon ejaculated; and when he succeeded in collecting his bewildered senses, he replied—

"I heard that my child was seen coming to the mountain; and when the fire broke over its summit, my uneasiness drew me up the road, where I found Louisa, in terror for Miss Temple. It was to seek her that I came into this dangerous place; and I think but for God's mercy, through the dogs of Natty, I should have perished in the flames myself."

"Ay! follow the hounds, and if there's an opening they'll scent it out," said Natty; "their noses be given to them the same as man's reason."

"I did so, and they led me to this place; but


text: Life of Plotinus

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no intention, however, of starting a sort of open-air steam laundry for West African washing. I have only gone into the unsatisfactory-to-all-parties-concerned state of affairs there not with the hope, but with the desire, that things may be improved and further disgrace avoided. It would be no good my merely stating that, if England wishes to make her possessions there morally and commercially pay her for the loss of life that holding them entails, she must abolish her present policy of amateur experiments backed by good intentions, for you would naturally not pay the least attention to a bald statement made by merely me. So I have had to place before you the opinions of others who are more worthy of your attention. I must, however, for myself disclaim any right to be regarded as the mouthpiece of any party concerned, though Major Lugard has done me the honour to place me amongst the Liverpool merchants. I can claim no right to speak as one of them. I should be only too glad if I had this honour, but I have not. There was early this year

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 Temple," said Edwards respectfully; "your frame will sink else."

"Leave, leave me," she said, raising her beaming eyes for a moment to his; "I feel too much for words! I am grateful, Oliver, for this miraculous escape; and next to my God to you."

Edwards withdrew to the edge of the rock, and shouted—"Benjamin! where are you, Benjamin?"

A hoarse voice replied, as if from the bowels of the earth, "Here, away, master; stow'd in this here bit of a hole, which is all the same as hot as the cook's coppers. I'm tired of my birth d'ye see, and if-so-be that Leather-stocking has got much overhauling to do before he sails after them said beaver, I'll go into dock again, and ride out my quarantine 'till I can get prottick from the law, and so hold on upon the rest of my 'spaniolas."

"Bring up a glass of water from the spring," continued Edwards, "and throw a little wine in it; hasten, I entreat you."

"I knows but little of your small drink, master Oliver," returned the reward, his voice issuing out of the cave into <he open air, "and the Jamaiky held out no longer than to take a parting kiss with Billy Kirby, when he anchored me alongside the highway last night, where you run me down in the chase. But here's sum'mat of a red colour that may suit a weak stomach, mayhap. That master Kirby is no first rate in a boat, but he'll tack a cart among the stumps, all the same as a Lon'on pilot will back and fill through the colliers in the Pool."

As the steward ascended while talking, by the time he had ended his speech, he appeared on the rock, with the desired restoratives, exhibiting the worn out and bloated features of a man who had run deep in a debauch, and that lately.


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 a distressing split between Liverpool and myself—whom I am aware they call behind my back "Our Aunt"—and I know they regard me as a vexing, if even a valued, form of relative.

This split, I may say (remembering Mr. Mark Twain's axiom, that people always like to know what a row is about), arose from my frank admiration of both the Royal Niger Company and France, neither of which Liverpool at that time regarded as worthy of even the admiration of the most insignificant; so its Journal of Commerce went for me. The natural sweetness of my disposition is most clearly visible to the naked eye when I am quietly having my own way, so naturally I went for its Journal of Commerce. Providentially no one outside saw this deplorable family row, and Mr. John Holt put a stop to it by saying to me, "Say what you like, you cannot please all of us;" had it not been for this I should not have written another line on the maladministration of West Africa beyond saying, "Call that Crown Colony system you are working there a Government! England, at your age, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" But you see, as things are, I am not speaking for any one, only off on a little lone fight of my own against a state of affairs which I regard as a disgrace to my country.

Well but, you may say, after all what you have said points to nothing disgraceful. You have expressly said that there is no corruption in the government there, and the rest of the things—the change of policy arising from the necessity for white men to come home at the least every twelve months, the waste of money necessary to local exigencies, and the fact that officers and gentlemen cannot be expected to understand and look after what one might

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 The feelings of Edwards and Elizabeth, at reaching this spot, may be imagined, though not easily described. No one seemed to exult more than their guide, who turned, with Mohegan still lashed to his back, and laughing in his own manner, said—

"I know'd 'twas the Frenchman's powder, gal; it went so altogether like; your coarse grain will squib for a minute. The Iroquois had none of the best powder when I went ag'in the Canada tribes, under Sir William. Did I ever tell you the story, lad, consarning the skrimmage with"

"For God's sake, tell me nothing now, Natty, until we are entirely safe. Where shall we go next?"

"Why, on the platform of rock over the cave, to be sure; you will be safe enough there, or we'll go into it, if you be so minded."

The young man started, and appeared agitated with a strong emotion, but looking around him with an anxious eye, said quickly—

"Shall we be safe on the rock? cannot the fire reach us there, too?"

"Can't the boy see?" said Natty, with the coolness of one who was accustomed to the kind of danger he had just encountered. "Had ye staid in the place above ten minutes longer, you would both have been in ashes, but here you may stay for ever, and no fire can touch you, until they burn the rocks as well as the woods."

With this assurance, which was obviously true, they proceeded to the spot, and Natty deposited his load, placing the Indian on the ground with his back against a fragment of the rocks. Elizabeth sunk on the ground, and buried her face in her hands, while her heart was swelling with a variety of conflicting emotions.

"Let me urge you to take a restorative, Miss


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 call domestic expenses—may be things unavoidable and peculiar to the climate. To this I can only say, Given the climate, why do you persist in ignoring the solid mass of expert knowledge of the region that is in the hands of the mercantile party, and go on working your Governors from a non-expert base? You have in England an unused but great mass of knowledge among men of all classes who have personally dealt with West Africa—yet you do not work from that, organise it, and place it at the service of the brand new Governors who go out; far from it. I know hardly any more pathetic sight than the new official suddenly appointed to West Africa buzzing round trying to find out "what the place is really like, you know." I know personally one of the greatest of our Governors who have been down there, a man with iron determination and courage, who was not content with the information derivable from a list of requisites for a tropical climate, the shorter Hausa grammar and a nice cheery-covered little work on diseases—the usual fillets with which England binds the brows of her Sacrifices to the Coast—but went and read about West Africa, all by himself, alone in the British Museum. He was a success, but still he always declares that the only book he found about this particular part was a work by a Belgian, with a frontispiece depicting the author, on an awful river, in the act, as per inscription, of shouting, "Row on, brave men of Kru!" which, as subsequent knowledge showed him that bravery was not one of the main qualities of the Kru men, shook him up about all his British Museum education. So in the end he, like the rest, had to learn for himself, out there. Of course, if the Governors were carefully pegged down to a West African place and lived long enough, and were not by nature faddists,

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 hunting-grounds—but he sees no Delawares. Every one has a white skin. My fathers say, from the far-off land, come. My women, my young warriors, my tribe, say, come. The Great Spirit says, come. No—let Mohegan die."

"But you forget your friend," cried Edwards.

"'Tis useless to talk to an Indian with the death-fit on him, lad," interrupted Natty, who seized the strips of the blanket, and with wonderful dexterity strapped the passive chieftain to his own back; when he turned, and with a strength that seemed to bid defiance, not only to his years, but to his load, he led the way to the point whence he had issued. Even as they crossed the little terrace of rock, one of the dead trees, that had been tottering for several minutes, fell on the spot where they had stood, and filled the air with its cinders.

Such an event quickened the steps of the party, who followed the Leather-stocking with the urgency required by the occasion.

"Tread on the soft ground," he cried, when they were in a gloom where sight availed them but little, "and keep in the white smoke; keep the skin close on her lad; she's a precious one, I tell you, sich another will be hard to be found."

Obedient to the hunter's directions, they followed his steps and advice implicitly, and although the narrow passage along the winding of the spring led amid burning logs and falling branches, yet they happily achieved it in safety. No one but a man long accustomed to the woods could have traced his route through a smoke, in which respiration was difficult, and sight nearly useless; but the experience of Natty conducted them to an opening through the rocks, where, with a little difficulty, they soon descended to another terrace, and emerged at once into a tolerably clear atmosphere.


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 doubtless they would learn, and in the course of a few years things would go well; but they are not pegged down. No sooner does one of them begin to know about the country he is in charge of than off he is whisked and deposited again, in a brand new region for which West Africa has not been a fitting introduction.

Then, as for the domestic finance, why expect officers and lawyers, doctors and gentlemen from clubland to manage fiscal matters? Of course they naturally don't know about trade affairs, or whether the Public Works Department is spending money, or merely wasting it. You require professional men in West Africa, but not to do half the work they are now engaged on in connection with red tape and things they do not understand. Of course, errors of this kind may be merely Folly, you may have plenty more men as good as these to replace them with, so it may matter more to their relations than to England if they are wasted alike in life and death, and you are so rich that the gradual extinction of your tropical trade will not matter to your generation. But as a necessary consequent to this amateurism, or young gentlemen's academy system, the Crown Colony system, there is disgrace in the injustice to and disintegration of the native races it deals with.

Now when I say England is behaving badly to the African, I beg you not to think that the philanthropic party has increased. I come of a generation of Danes who when the sun went down on the Wulpensand were the men to make light enough to fight by with their Morning Stars; and who, later on, were soldiers in the Low Countries and slave owners in the West Indies, and I am proud of my ancestors; for, whatever else they were, they were not humbugs; and the generation that is round me now

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 fighting fire, and there may be a chance left. Fly! I bid ye fly! nor stop even for breath."

The Leather-stocking had no sooner uttered this injunction, than he disappeared in the bushes, and when last seen by Louisa, was rushing up the mountain with the activity of youth, and with a speed that none but those who were accustomed to the toil could attain.

"Have I found ye!" the old man exclaimed, when he burst out of the smoke; "God be praised, that I've found ye; but follow, there is no time left for talking."

"My dress!" said Elizabeth; "it would be fatal to trust myself nearer to the flames in it."

"I bethought me of your flimsy things," cried Natty, throwing loose the folds of a covering of buckskin that he carried on his arm, and wrapping her form in it, in such a manner as to envelope her whole person; "now follow, for it's a matter of life and death to us all."

"But John! what will become of John," cried Edwards; "can we leave the old warrior here to perish?"

The eyes of Natty followed the direction of Edwards' finger, when he beheld the Indian, still seated as before, with the very earth under his feet consuming with fire. Without delay, the hunter approached the spot, and cried in Delaware—

"Up and away, Chingachgook! will ye stay here to burn, like a tortured Mingo, at the stake! The Moravians have teached ye better, I hope.  The Lord preserve me if the powder hasn't flashed a-tween his legs, and the skin of his back is roasting. Will ye come, I say? will ye follow?"

"Why should Mohegan go?" returned the Indian, gloomily. "He has seen the days of an eagle, and his eye grows dim. He looks on the valley; he looks on the water; he looks in the


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 under the influence of the alarm excited by such unusual movements, reluctant to go, and yet fearful to remain, Louisa was startled by the low, cracking, but cautious treads, of some one approaching through the bushes. She was on the eve of flight, when Natty emerged from the cover, and stood at her side. The old man laughed as he shook her kindly by a hand that was passive with fear, and said—

"I am glad to meet you here, child, for the back of the mountain is a-fire, and it would be dangerous to go up it now, till it has been burnt over once, and the dead wood is gone. There's a foolish man, the comrad of that varmint, who has given me all this trouble, digging for ore, on the east side. I told him that the kearless fellows who thought to catch a practys'd hunter in the woods after dark, had thrown the lighted pine knots in the brush, and that 'twould kindle like tow, and warned him to leave the hill. But he was set upon his business, and nothing short of Providence could move him. If he isn't burnt and buried in a grave of his own digging, he's made of salamanders. Why, what ails the child! you look as skeary as if you see'd more painters! I wish there was some to be found, they'd count up faster than the beaver. But, where's the good child of a bad father? did she forget her promise to the old man?"

"The hill! the hill!" shrieked Louisa; "she seeks you on the hill, with the powder!"

Natty recoiled for several feet, at this unexpected intelligence, and exclaimed—

"The Lord of Heaven have mercy on her! She's on the Vision, and that's a sheet of fire ag'in this. Child, if ye love the dear one, and hope to find a friend when you need it most, to the village, and give the alarm. The men be us'd to


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HE man who told me this story said that it was the oldest story in the world, and that it happened a hundred thousand years ago. But somehow, I disbelieve him. He was very drunk and his eyes were a trifle too bright and his hair was quite remarkably disheveled, so it is possible that he was somewhat mixed in his statistics.

He came over to my table in the Jardin de Paris, which is a place in the city of Rangoon some thousands of miles from the real Paris, and as many leagues removed from anything Parisian. For one thing, the stench of the Guleh-Wat is all too near, and it is a mingled odor of incense and stale lotus and nipa blossoms and very, very unwashed human beings who come there to worship. And then, too, one may look out over the river and see the sandbars, with an occasional vulture perched there, critically inspecting some especially unattractive thing that has floated down with the current. And of course there are snub-nosed British tramps, and very natty and not quite clean Japanese cargo-boats, and pot-bellied Chinese junks, and the river craft of Siam, who deserve an adjective all to themselves. The Jardin de Paris is, moreover, some two continents removed from and a hundred years behind anything French, and it is two shillings rickshaw fare from the British legation.

He came over to my table and begged me not to finish the drink I had before me, because the grenadine made it red. He told me that one could have green drinks, made with absinthe, or white ones made with gin and limes, or purple ones and yellow champagne, but that I should not drink red drinks because they were like rubies and in consequence abominable beyond the imagination of men. They had been cursed for a hundred thousand years, he said, ever since the raja of Barowak laughed. And therefore, if I would have a waiter take my red drink away, not spilling any of it, being especially careful not to spill any of it, he would buy me thousands of green or white or purple drinks, and he would sit down beside me and tell me the oldest story in the world.

And naturally, I listened.

to Kosar in the old days (so the man with the disheveled hair told me) one went by Bitab and Pulat through the Molanasian Pass, which led to the country of the Sakai where it was necessary to travel very care- 167


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"Even from the land of shadows, now, My father's awful ghost appears." Gertrude of Wyoming.

an hour after Louisa Grant was left by Miss Temple, in the situation already mentioned, she continued in feverish anxiety, awaiting the return of her friend. But, as the time passed by without the re-appearance of Elizabeth, the terrors of Louisa gradually increased, until her alarmed fancy had conjured every species of danger that appertained to the woods, excepting the one that really existed. The heavens had become obscured, by degrees, and vast volumes of smoke were pouring over the valley; but the thoughts of Louisa were still recurring to beasts, without dreaming of the real cause for apprehension. She was stationed in the edge of the low pines and chestnuts that succeed the first or large growth of the forest, and directly above the angle where the highway turned from the straight course to the village and ascended the mountain, laterally. Consequently she commanded a view not only of the valley, but of the road beneath her. The few travellers that passed, she observed, were engaged in earnest conversation, and frequently raised their eyes to the hill, and at length she saw the people leaving the court-house, and gazing upward also. While


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 hate stew up the system until the fumes go to the head—especially anything so simple as hate for a dog. You had one fight over him with a man you couldn’t afford to have on your trail; but then you always were more or less of a fool, Brent,” Harte remarked dispassionately. “Let’s go in.”

The fourth man had not spoken a word. Once inside Red Hanlin laughed hoarsely.

“Look at Fox,” he said.

Fox Jarrat’s triangular face still twitched from the recent strain, and his little wide-set eyes glittered dangerously.

“Nerves,” said Harte. “Without brains.” He flipped a coin in the air, caught it deftly on the muzzle of his gun and balanced it with a steady hand.

“You’re a cold blooded fiend for a fact,” Brent grunted with grudging admiration.

“Warm blooded,” Harte corrected, “but cold headed. Let’s start. We can ride to the snow line and you bring the horses back.”

They left the cabin, riding single file up a gulch that led away into the hills. Ten miles farther down the Greybull, Flash too, was heading for the hills.

The scent around the cabin had carried his mind

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 back to the night at Two Ocean Pass. This in turn awakened a host of half forgotten memories of the Land of Many Rivers. His feet followed the trend of his mind, and he found himself climbing the first range of the mountains. At first he traveled without definite purpose, but the desire to revisit these places gradually shaped in his brain.

The spicy smell of balsam and silver spruce lured him on, and he came to the first straggling groups of limber pine. When he entered the heavy lodge-pole growth he encountered many drifts of snow. Half a mile of climbing and he struck the solid, hard-packed drifts of the dense spruce slopes. Then he angled along the face of the range toward a pass that led across it.

The jar of hoofs, creaking of saddles, and the drone of voices reached him from below, and he stopped to listen. It was not often that men rode at night. The horses breathed heavily as they bucked the drifts. Then all sounds ceased but the undertone of voices. When the horses started again they went back down the way they had come, and Flash heard the crunch of snow as three men climbed toward him on foot.

The spring sunshine had packed the snow until

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 it held a man where the sharp hoofs and heavier weight of horses would break through. Flash waited until they were quite close before slipping on ahead.

He found the high country under a solid blanket of white. When he had been here with Moran there had been little evidence of man, but the hills had been teeming with all varieties of game. This condition was now reversed. He found no signs of game, but near Two Ocean Pass he crossed many trails that had been made by men.

Flash was not constituted to live happily alone. With Moran he had been content, and his life had been full when he traveled with Silver. Companionship he must have, either of his own kind or that of man.

Except for the big gray owls there were now no sounds to entertain him at night. The whole expanse of the hills seemed dead and frozen, and the hollow silence oppressed his spirit with a sense of world wide emptiness.

His memories were sooner dimmed than those of man. Every vivid instance, each great love and hate, had left its imprint and helped to shape his life, but these did not now reveal themselves in definite form. His love for Silver and Moran

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 was no longer a distinct longing for each of them personally, but was manifested only in the absolute need of companionship in some form.

He therefore lingered near Two Ocean Pass. The camp was no longer a phantom camp but very real. He avoided these men by day but when any one of them chanced to be abroad in the hills at night, Flash flanked his trail, testing him with nose and ear, much as a criminologist would have studied his facial characteristics and the shape of his head.

Food was scarce, and Flash foraged a precarious living, a scant half portion of his usual rations. An occasional snow-shoe rabbit or blue grouse were the only living things he found. He grew thin and gaunt, his flanks pinched up in odd contrast to the deep chest, and his eyes were sunk in hollowed sockets.

The days were warm and by the second week in May there were green patches showing through the white in the broad open meadows of the Thoroughfare and the Yellowstone, the hardy new grass peeping through within a few hours after the melting down of the drifts. Flash prepared to leave this country of loneliness and little meat.

He left Two Ocean Pass and when he came to

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 "'Tis the canister, and the precious child is lost!"

At the next instant Natty rushed through the steams of the spring, and appeared on the terrace, without his deer skin cap, his hair burnt to his head, his shirt of country check, black, and filled with holes, and his red features of a deeper colour than ever, by the heat he had encountered.


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 the confluence of the two rivers he followed up the ridge between them. When well up toward the head he looked far across to the main divide. There were many brown specks on the white slopes of the Rampart Pass. They were strung out in scattered bands as far as his eye could reach; they were coming his way, and Flash went to meet them. The famine was broken. A few more hours and the Land of Many Rivers would once more be the land of plenty. The elk herds which wintered in the low valleys of the Shoshone were coming back to the upland meadows of the Yellowstone, the summer paradise of the elk.

Flash met the first few leaders of this migration and pulled down a cow. Great droves streamed down into the bottoms and traveled on toward the Yellowstone. The valley was a veritable thoroughfare for migrating elk—from which fact comes its name.

For a week they came in scattered bands. The big herds that had wintered in Jackson’s Hole were now coming from the south and mingling on the meadows with those from the Shoshone.

There was now food in abundance and in a few days Flash regained his usual fullness of form.

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 The meadows and all exposed slopes were bare of snow. The deer had not yet come back. Less averse to the proximity of man, the blacktail bands descended clear to the foothills each spring when the first shoots of green grass sprouted at the roots of the sage. They would follow the grass line up into the hills and not for another month would they cross the divide and join the elk in the Yellowstone meadows. The mountain sheep go up to winter instead of down, grazing on the highest flat-tops of the peaks where the savage winds that follow each storm keep the bald ridges scoured free of snow. They now came down for their first nip of green grass and for the first time Flash saw these shy animals in the valleys. But all this was not enough.

He must have company and here, away from Two Ocean Pass, there were no men, and he could not even experience the vicarious sense of companionship he had drawn from following them at night. He left the green bottoms and traveled up through the spruce. When he came out above timberline he headed straight for the Rampart Pass.

He had not left the tree line two hundred yards

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 behind until he crossed a track that angled back down into the timber.

The track was many hours old, and the scent was faint but the little that was left thrilled him with a strange excitement. He knew it for the woman scent.

He had now no clear cut recollection of the girl he had seen but once. His dreams of her were misty visions of some lovely being—like a child’s dream of a fairy princess. Flash turned and followed along on her trail. Dusk was settling over the hills when he started and night shut down around him as he sped through the trees.

The trail led almost straight down, and he soon dropped to the lower edge of the snow line. The trail grew steadily warmer and at last he could smell smoke and see the glimmer of a camp fire through the trees. The girl was wrapped in a single blanket and sat leaning back against a tree. Flash circled twice around the fire, his pads making no sound on the pine-straw carpet under the trees. As silently as a shadow he drew near until he stood watching her from a distance of ten feet, breathing deeply each time the shifting breeze carried her scent to him.

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 A sudden shift of wind drove the campfire smoke straight to him and he sneezed loudly twice. The girl started up in sheer terror at this sound just in time to see a gray shape disappear.

“Flash!” she called after him. “Flash! Come, Flash. Come here.”

Flash halted. It had been long since he had heard any one speak his name. From centuries of being sheltered and protected by man, brutality and the lust to kill have been refined out of civilized woman to an extent that is easily apparent to the animal world, and Flash sensed that he had less to fear from the female of the human species than from the male.

Animal estimates of men are not formed by reasoning but through the composite impression they receive from eye, ear and nose; of this impression, the strongest factor is that of scent. Flash’s eyes told him that this girl was the one he had met before. Her tones were stirringly familiar, yet his nose denied all this. She was as alluring as ever but instead of radiating the bubbling vitality and happiness he associated with her he now sensed an air of weariness and mental depression.

This had the effect of adding a fresh pang to

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 his own loneliness and brought an unexpected whine to his throat. The girl, hearing it, knew he was still near and resumed her coaxing.

“I knew it must be you,” she said. “Come, Flash. Come on up to me, Flash,” she begged.

Ancestral strains waged grim conflict for the possession of his soul. The ancient heritage of dog to be the slave of man clashed with the wolf urge to be away from all this and back to the free hills. Lured on by the magic spell of a woman’s voice the spirit of the dog crept forward, dragging with it the protesting flesh of the wolf. Inch by inch he neared her until at last she touched him.

At the touch of her fingers he was once more the dog, the wild in him subservient to the tame, and he fawned upon her, whining with eagerness.

The girl threw her arms about him and drew him close.

“Don’t run off like you did that other time,” she begged, “Stay with me, Flash. I couldn’t live through another night alone. Stay with me, won’t you, Flash?”

The note of appeal in her voice was more urgent than any other sound he had ever heard. His craving for companionship had found an answering need in the girl.

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 He sensed her helplessness and some vague undertone of fear. The blood of many fighting forebears who had protected man rose to the surface in a feeling of responsibility for the safety of this girl—a desire to fight off that thing she feared.

Even now he was not assured that she was the woman he had met before. Not until a measure of her former buoyancy and high spirits returned with her joy at his presence was he sure. Then all three senses coordinated and definitely identified her as the same.

It was long before she slept, and Flash curled close beside her, his newly aroused protective instincts fully alert. He growled at each far off sound. When a cow elk sounded her yelping bark close at hand he rushed out and drove her off, returning proudly to the girl. He knew the elk was as harmless as a mouse, and all this was more to assure the girl that nothing could harm her now that he was with her.

“It won’t be so bad if you’ll stay with me, Flash,” she told him. “The loneliness won’t be so heavy that it hurts—like it did before I had you.”

Then she slept, and the wolf stood guard.

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text: The Cross Pull/Chapter 8

title: The Cross Pull/Chapter 8


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he girl rested on a rock beside the game trail. A tiny mountain stream rushed past a few feet away. The ground sloped steeply up on either side of the stream bed, matted with a tangled jungle of spruce that was tropical in its density. Great windfalls of down timber were piled about and many trees had not even found space in which to fall but rested at odd angles against living trunks. A thick carpet of moss covered earth and rocks and clung in frowsy shreds to the trees themselves.

“This seemed the most peaceful, lovely spot on earth when I was here before, Flash.” The girl Shivered slightly as she glanced around. “It seems dark and gloomy now. I must have been mad to do it. I had to act at once—no time to think; and I was too dazed to think even if I had been granted time. There was no one to advise me, Flash, and I did the best I knew.”

“I’m glad we’re here at last, Flash.” She pointed up the slope. “It’s right up there, only a

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 few minutes’ climb. It’s weakening to live for three days on cold lunch alone, especially on short rations of that. I had to travel light.”

She slipped into the harness of the haversack in which she had packed her scanty store of food. The single blanket was rolled sling fashion, and she adjusted it across her shoulders and started to climb the slope.

For two hundred yards the ascent was steep. They crawled under and over log jams and threaded their way between close growing spruce trunks. Then Flash stepped in his tracks.

The ground had flattened into a tiny hollow at the base of the cliffs that towered abruptly up above the trees and defined the limits of the narrow gorge. In the center of this depression a cabin showed among the trees.

His nose had given him no warning of this. Always he knew of the presence of man before drawing near, yet he had come full upon this house; even now his nose told him that his eyes were wrong. There was not the slightest trace of man scent, and his ears caught no single vibration of sound. He had no previous experience to guide him in sizing up a house that had been so long untenanted as to have lost all taint of

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 man. He shrank from approaching this unnatural place. But the girl pressed on, and he followed, every hair tingling and each nerve aquiver, his muscles bunched for sudden flight. He was filled with all the apprehensions of a boy who enters at night a house alleged to be haunted.

The girl lifted a heavy wooden latch and entered, but Flash refused to be coaxed inside. He circled the cabin, examining it minutely, shoving his nose hard against the logs and breathing explosively in his effort to solve this strange mystery of the house that held no scent.

It was built of heavy logs. A woodsman could have told at a glance that it had been erected long ago and that only primitive tools had been used in its construction. The door was built of spruce planks slabbed out with an axe and swung on hinges of elk hide nailed on with wooden pegs. The roof was of lodge-pole logs five inches through and covered with a foot of dirt.

Satisfied at last that there was no lurking menace about this strange place, Flash went in to the girl.

The fireplace was built of flat stones cemented with clay which had baked hard. The furniture was of rough hewed pine with legs of seasoned

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 mountain ash driven in two-inch auger holes bored in the planks.

Inside Flash caught a very faint scent which was not that of man, but was in some vague way suggestive of man. This came from the flour, beans, rice and other food that was sealed in almost air tight cans to protect it from marauding pack rats.

The girl gathered branches and kindled a blaze in the fireplace. From an icy spring at the base of the cliff she carried a small pail of water and started to prepare a meal, cooking over the coals in the fireplace as if over a camp fire in the open.

Early dusk was settling in the depths of the canyon, and before eating she gathered a great pile of wood.

“That’s the only light we’ll have, Flash,” she told him. “Firelight.” She offered him a share of the meal but cooked food was not to his liking.

Since finding this lovely goddess the previous night Flash had not once been out of sight of her, but he now felt the pangs of hunger. He scratched at the door and whined, imploring the girl to let him out.

“Where’s that man Moran who owns you, Flash?” she asked. “He must be here some-

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 where or you wouldn’t be here yourself. If I let you out you’ll run away and go back to him. I want you to stay with me until Dad Kinney comes.”

Flash scratched and whined again.

“He should be here now,” she said.

“He’ll be here surely in a day or two. Then you can go. You’ll stay with me until then, won’t you, Flash?”

His whining and scratching became so insistent that at last she walked reluctantly to the door and opened it, leaving it ajar so he could reenter when he wished.

“Don’t you desert me, Flash,” she admonished him as he slipped out.

Flash dropped swiftly down the slope to the game trail and followed along it toward the mouth of the canyon, his nose uplifted to catch the first scent of meat. Half a mile below, the gorge widened into a narrow park beside the stream. A cow elk was feeding there. She caught a faint whiff of danger and stood rigid. The dread wolf scent suddenly reached her flaring nostrils and she fled—but not in time to escape the shadowy form that drove down upon her from the timber edge with lightning speed.

Back at the cabin the girl, alarmed at his long

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 absence, was whistling and coaxing from the door in the hope that he would hear and come back to her, but there was no answering whine from the inky blackness under the trees and at last she decided that he had gone back to Moran.

Loneliness clutched her with an icy hand. She sat by the fire, knowing she would not sleep until dawn lifted the shadows from the canyon. The vast silence seemed freighted with unknown dangers. She almost prayed for some sound to break it. Then it came! And her supplication was instantly transformed into an earnest prayer that she might never hear that awful cry again.

She did not know what it was—except that it was made by some terrible beast of prey. It carried to her the same sensation as if she had scratched her finger-nails across the rough surface of a sand rock.

It sounded again, this time close at hand, filling the canyon with its volume. The cry was charged with all the aching misery and loneliness of the ages.

A sudden bump at the door startled her horribly. It was followed by an eager whine and a furious scratching. She sprang to the door and let Flash in, barring it shut once more the instant he crossed

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 the sill. The flood of relief that surged through her was like a blessing. She put her arms around the dog.

“Poor Flash,” she said. “Poor Flash. It chased you home. Did it nearly catch you, old boy?”

Flash did not seem troubled. On the contrary he sprawled in front of the fire and blinked contentedly up at her. His mood was mellow, for he had dined well, and his placid calm reassured the girl for she knew that if danger lurked just outside Flash would be bristling and alert.

She spread her blanket on the bunk and the rough boards felt soft. The last sight that her drowsy eyes rested upon before she slept the sleep of utter exhaustion was the peacefully dozing dog before the fire. It was well for her peace of mind that she did not suspect the truth; that the soul chilling cry had been his own imploring message to a long lost mate—the summons to come and feast upon the elk he had torn down with his savage teeth.

She slept on soundly until the dog’s restless wanderings about the room aroused her to the light of day. Every muscle ached from the night on the hard bunk and her first task after breakfast

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 was to carry spruce boughs to cover the boards.

Early in the afternoon she grew restless from inactivity and wandered down the game trail with Flash. Half a mile down she saw a dead elk in an open park. It had not been there when they came up the previous day. She could see the throat, gashed open by savage teeth, and knew that the elk had been killed by the beast whose cry had chilled her the night before.

She had no further taste for walking and hurried back to the house. Near evening she went to the spring for water. As she knelt to dip it Flash came creeping up from the opposite side. He moved with a stealthy crouch and there was a queer light in the yellow eyes. When within twenty feet he sprang straight towards her.

There was a sudden rushing whir of wings as a blue grouse took flight only to be struck down by a big paw. The wings drummed on the ground as Flash held the bird down after beheading it with one nip.

For a full ten seconds she could only gaze, fascinated by this wild picture, then jumped the spring and ran to him. Flash drew away, fearing he had offended her by this deed, but when

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text: Talk:Missouri, Bright Land of the West

title: Talk:Missouri, Bright Land of the West


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 she picked up the grouse and turned to him there was no reproach in her voice.

“Oh, Flash, it’s a mean trick to steal your dinner,” she said. “But I haven’t any meat. Beans and rice and biscuits are so dry and I do love grouse. Will you share it with me, Flash?”

She carried the bird back to the cabin and dressed it, reserving only the white breast meat for herself and giving the rest to Flash. This female tyranny was no new thing to Flash. Often when with Silver he had killed some small game animal or bird only to have Silver deprive him of it.

The next day he foraged near the cabin and killed another grouse. As he pulled off the head and swallowed it a sudden thought struck him, and he did not tear at the bird. He had been the main support of his family during the first month after Silver’s pups were born, carrying food to the den each night. This wonderful, shining Goddess who had adopted him had taken his last grouse for her own.

He took the grouse in his mouth and trotted back to the cabin. From past experience with Silver it seemed perfectly natural to kill and

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 carry his prey to the den of this new companion.

When he dropped the grouse before the girl the light in her eyes and thrill of love in her voice repaid him a thousand times.

“Why, Flash! You old darling, you’re trying to feed me, aren’t you?” she cried. “You’re the smartest dog that ever lived. I envy that Moran. I think I’ll steal you, Flash.”

That night Flash once more scratched to get out. Soon after she heard the dreadful cry of two nights before. She did not know that Flash had pulled down a small yearling elk, and that this was his joyful call for her to come and join him at the kill; for now, having killed food for her, his call was meant for her instead of the departed Silver.

Someway he knew that the girl would not come and after eating his fill he sliced deeply into a hind quarter to tear it off. When he had cut nearly to the bone he seized the foot and wrenched the leg over the back at right angles, throwing the hip socket out of joint.

He worked tirelessly, alternately cutting at the ligaments with his teeth, and wrenching on the foot with all his strength until it was severed from the rest.

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 It weighed forty pounds but was no heavier load than he had frequently taken home to Silver and the pups. He lifted the heavy end and started for the cabin, the foot trailing on the ground beside him. Every few yards the weight tired his neck and he rested, sometimes taking the foot and dragging the heavy end.

The girl sat in the cabin, wondering at his long absence, when she heard a peculiar dragging sound punctuated with dull thumps as Flash wrestled the heavy quarter up the slope from the game trail, jerking it over and through the windfall jams.

She opened to his scratching and he backed in, pulling his offering across the sill.

The frayed end of the meat was black with dirt and spruce needles, and she drew back from the gruesome relic. She little suspected that Flash had killed this elk for her but naturally supposed he had found a portion of some dead animal and brought it in.

Her eyes were bright with tears as she patted and stroked his head.

You’re a good provider, Flash,” she praised. “You don’t want me to starve on beans and rice, do you, old boy? There was never in this world another dog like you.”

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 He revelled in the knowledge that his lovely mistress was pleased with him. At the same time he fully realized her distaste for this latest contribution. He knew that she relished some of the meat he had brought. Evidently she did not care for this kind. He was not critical of her tastes. She should have the kind she chose.

To his mind the animal world was divided into two classes as far as food purposes were concerned. The first and by far the most important included the meat of all large animals. The second included all small animals and birds. Of this division there were some few whose meat he did not like and which only starvation would have driven him to touch.

His mistress seemed to prefer meat that came from the smaller species. For the next two days he hunted tirelessly as he had for Silver and the pups. The den must be supplied with meat.

The girl was between laughter and tears at the growing assortment of game he brought to the cabin. Grouse, rabbits, woodchucks, a marten, a packrat and a whole family of little striped chipmunks were included in the list of small creatures whose lives were sacrificed through his love of her.

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 His intelligence seemed so almost human that she hesitated to throw away these offerings lest he should take offense. When he was off on his hunts she dropped the undesirable specimens in deep cracks in the rock rubble that lay piled at the foot of the cliff.

In common with the majority of the human race she grossly underestimated animal powers of scent. Flash could scent a track made by a grouse two hours past. A rabbit has a half inch of hair on his feet yet Flash could follow the trail one left on hard frozen ground or even on glare ice as easily as a man sees its track in soft snow.

He had no need to go within thirty feet of the cliff to know accurately the exact spot in which each one had been dropped and just which one it was.

In the old days with Silver he himself had buried meat in a score of places near the den after the family had feasted to capacity. That these caches had never been re-opened mattered not at all. They were but reserves against the possible famine which never came.

It now seemed perfectly natural that the girl should bury her surplus meat, However he preferred dirt to rocks for this purpose and those

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 of the victims he could reach he drew forth and carried to some spot of his own selection, interring them deep in the ground and pushing the soft dirt in place, tamping it firmly with his nose.

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text: The Cross Pull/Chapter 9

title: The Cross Pull/Chapter 9


text:
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n the spring a bear’s pelt is in its prime when the fur of all others slips. His hair has grown thick and silky during the long winter sleep of hibernation. In this high country the bear does not leave his den until some time early in May but even this is too early for men to bring horses across the lofty passes that lead into it.

The girl knew that this fact was intimately related to Dad Kinney’s plans. The previous fall he had left supplies at the cabin, planning to come in on foot, and collect many prime spring pelts to be packed out later when the passes were free of snow.

The days passed and Kinney failed to come.

The girl often talked of this to Flash.

“He should have been here long ago.” Each day she repeated this to the dog. “Even if he had changed his plans he would come the instant my letter reached him, Flash. He’s a little late, that’s all. He’ll be here to-morrow sure.” And as each succeeding night fell without a sign of

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 An illegitimate child who has already been legitimated by the father and an adopted child shall be deemed to be descendants in the same way as legitimate children as per the meaning of this Code.

A husband and wife who desert each other or live apart without lawful divorce do not lose the statutory right to succeed to each other’s inheritance.

There are only six classes of statutory heirs and, subject to section 1630, paragraph 2, one class has the right to receive the inheritance before or after another in the following order, namely—

descendants;

father, mother;

siblings of whole blood;

siblings of half blood;

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 regarding the recovery or existence of extraterrestrial beings or crafts. Although AARO continues to conduct interviews, research programs, and pursue investigatory leads, AARO's work has resulted in disproving the majority of these claims using the verifiable information made within those claims.

AARO researched and interviewed numerous people, programs, and leads. It has determined that modern allegations that the USG is hiding off-world technology and beings largely originate from the same group of individuals who have ties to the cancelled AAWSAP/AATIP program and a private sector organization's paranormal research efforts. These individuals have worked with each other consistently in various UAP-related efforts.

 * Persons 1–5 and Interviewees 1, 3, 9, 12, 13, and 14 have repeatedly voiced these claims in various public and private venues, and they have petitioned Congress in various capacities on UAP issues. They have not provided any empirical evidence of their claims to AARO.

 * Persons 1 and 3 and Interviewees 1, 3, and 12 were involved with the paranormal research conducted under AAWSAP/AATIP.

 * Person 5 and Interviewees 3, 9 and 14 were involved with the alleged crashed UAP materials that were provided to the U.S. Army and subsequently to AARO for examination.

 * Persons 4, 7, and 8 and Interviewees 1, 3, and 13 investigated UAP on their own and were responsible for successfully expanding the remit of an existing IC program to include UAP exploitation language.

 * AARO notes that Persons 1 and 4 never formally sat down with AARO to provide official, signed statements; these individuals have been mentioned by other interviewees frequently as sources of their claims. Person 8 held an informal interview and Interviewee 14 sat for an official interview but has not signed the memo for the record documenting this interview.

SECTION VII: Historical Context of UAP Investigatory Efforts Since 1945

Summary

AARO assesses that the incidents of UAP sightings reported to USG organizations, the claims that some constitute extraterrestrial craft, and the claims that the USG has secured and is experimenting on alien technology, most likely are the result of a range of cultural, political, and technological factors. AARO bases this conclusion on the aggregate findings of all USG investigations to date, the misinterpretation of all reported named sensitive programs, the lack of empirical evidence to support the USG reverse-engineering narrative, and AARO's assessment that the piece of metal alleged to be recovered from an alien spacecraft in the late 1940s is ordinary, of terrestrial origin, and possesses no exceptional qualities.

Although many cases remain unsolved—primarily because of the lack of actionable and researchable data—AARO and its predecessor organizations concluded that the


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 pu, ya, ta, yai;

lung, pa, na, a.

The surviving spouse is also a statutory heir, subject to the special provisions of section 1635.

As long as an heir in one of the classes specified in section 1629 is still alive or uninterruptedly represented, the heirs in the lower classes have no right in the inheritance property of the deceased at all.

However, the provision of the previous paragraph shall become inapplicable in the specific event where any descendant is still alive or represented, as the case may be, and the father or mother is still alive, in which event the father or mother shall be entitled to a share as if being an heir in the children’s degree.

Amongst the descendants in different degrees, only the children of the inheritance owner, who are closest in degree, have the right to receive the inheritance. The descendants in the lower degrees may receive the inheritance only by virtue of the right of representation.

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text:
Page:A voyage round the world, in His Britannic Majesty's sloop, Resolution, commanded by Capt. James Cook, during the years 1772, 3, 4, and 5 (IA b30413849 0001).pdf/238

208

ther had been favourable for their return from almost any part of the bay, till the morning of the 25th; soon after which it began to be very rainy and stormy. On the day we had gone to West Bay, a large canoe with twelve of the natives came from the north to our ship, and after selling a variety of their dresses, some stone hatchets, clubs, spears, and even paddles, they returned the way they came.

On the 26th, after noon, the weather being somewhat cleared up, our launch arrived on board, but all the people in her were exhausted with fatigue and hunger. All the provision they had taken out with them consisted of three biscuits and a bottle of brandy; and they had not been able to succeed in catching a single fish during the tempestuous weather. After being tossed about by the waves, attempting in vain to return to the vessels, they had put into a cove, on which they found a few deserted huts of the natives, where they took shelter, and just kept themselves from starving by eating a few muscles that adhered to the rocks.

The next morning we made our researches round the bottom of the cove, in quest of plants and birds; and in the afternoon we went out along the rocky shores towards Point Jackson, to kill some shags, which we had now learnt to relish instead of ducks. Between these two excursions we received another visit of the Indian family, whom we had seen before, on the 23d. They seemed to be come for


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Subject to the last paragraph of section 1629, the division of shares in the inheritance for the statutory heirs in the relatives’ classes shall follow the provisions of Part 1 of this Chapter.

The statutory heirs in the same class as specified in section 1629 are entitled to receive equal shares. If the class has only one statutory heir, that statutory heir has the right to receive the whole portion.

Amongst the descendants in each line who receive the shares in the inheritance by representation according to the provisions of Chapter 4 of Title 2, the shares in the inheritance shall be given in the following manners:

if there are descendants in different degrees, only the children of the deceased, who are closest in degree, have the right to receive the inheritance, whilst the descendants in

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