girl departed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
 
  
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then the color left the face of Mary Marengo,
as she said aloud: ‘

“ What! can he really have married that un-
hap .v girl?

“ is actions and wild flight would so indi-
cate.

“ No, no, Iwill not worry, for the shadow
men have been too thorough in their work, he
has been dogged too close to permit him to in-
jure her, or to have his hirelings do so— Ah!
there is company here,” and as she rode up to
the piazza steps to dismount, a tall, handsome
{pang man, in the uniform of a captain in the

inited States Navy, came quickly forward to
aid her.

“ Donald E” she cried, in a glad voice, while he
answered in equally joyous tones:

“ Yes. Mary, I have come, and there must be
no parting now.”

“ No, for the time is up today, furl am just
twenty-one . ” ~ r

Just then Judge Garlo came around the
piazza, and advancing toward him, her face
flushed, and grasping the hand of the young
ofllcer, Mary Marengo said:

“ My dear guardian, let me now tell you the
secret of my life, and which my father never
made known to you.

“ This gentleman is Captain Donald Tayloe,
2f thg’Lz'nited States Navy, and he is my hus-

am .

“ Your husband?” gasped her astonished
guardian.

“ Yes, sir, for when I was but sixteen, and he
was not quite tWenty—one we were married as
a. joke one night at a party, and the one who
played clergyman had been just appointed a
justice of the peace, so the marriage was legal.

“ My father was angry at first, then said we
were not to meet for years, not until m twen-
tieth birthday, and then, if we loved eac other
we could be married by a clergyman, but if not,
we tcould get a legal separation by mutual con-
sen .

“ He intended to tell you a secret, you re-
member, but died before he could do so.

“ Now, Judge Garlo, my husband has come
to claim me at your hands, for we have corres-

nded the year st, and are desperately in

ove with each 0t er, and in fact, I believe we
always were. ”

“I’ll vouch for my love, judge,” said the
youn captain.

“T en all I have to do is to give you my
blessing, and turn over your heritage to your
husband, Mary, and let me say it has greatly
increased in my hands, instead of diminished;
but what of that young cadet, Markham?”

“ I have to explain to Donald about that, sir
and to you, too, for I entered into a retended
engagement with Mr. Markham, by t e advice
of a noted detective, who feared he meant to
take flight, under financial pressure, unless he
could become known as engaged to me.

“ I am happy to say that Mmarkham has
just taken flight, and when you both hear my
story, you will ree that it is unfortunate that
he did not do so ong before.

“ But. judge, I’ll leave Captain Tayloe in
your care, while I go and dress for sup r,” and
kissing her finger-tips to the two, t 0 happy

CHAPTER XLIII.
TURNING THE TABLES.

WHEN Nabob and Flora were left on the
island, under the guardianship of the man,
Chum, they seemed at first considerably taken
aback

‘They now understood fully that they were not
in the hands of officers of the law, and after
some little thought, in his quiet way, Nabob

said: .
“fiMiss Flo’, this is goin’ to be a picnic fer
us. ,
“How canit be, Nabob?” v '
“Nowthis are a veryprett bit of island;
there are trees and grass,  flowers, hain’t

‘ sf 
“ And that spring water is as cold as‘icel”
u Y“. H

“Then that man as is gone left ‘us plenty 0’
good grub?”

“ Ver true.”

“ An there’s three llttle huts apiece fer us, if
we want ’em?” and Nabob pointed to the half-
score of little cabins.

“ I see all this, Nabob.”

“ Next, we has plenty o’ shells to gather, and
we kin fish, and I kin build traps and catch
birds, for see how many there are about in the
trees?”

" Yes, it would be a pleasant abiding-place,
Nabob. under other circumstances: but my mind
is so worried I can enjoy nothing."

“ Don’t git blue, for a short while ago you
was behind iron bars, and then we thought the
law had its grip on us. and now we is here, with
a island to walk over, and only that man sitting
smoking yonder, to keep guard over us.”

“ Yes. but what will come of all this 9” ~

“ That's just what my head has got to figger
out, and your pretty cocoanut has got to help
me.”

“ I will do all I can, Nabob.”

“ “en. the first thing we do is to make our-
selves comfortable, and I‘ll help you fix up your
cabin, as if we expected to stay right along.”

“ Yes, Nabob.”

“ Then I‘ll rig out some little trick to play on
that man, who thinks, ’cause he’s got only a ho
and a gal to deal with, and got ’em on a islan ,
he won‘t have nothing to do but to smoke his

i e."
p  He does seem careless, Nabob.”

“ Yas, Miss Flo‘, and keerlessness is a bad var-
tue to possess.

“ Now we‘ll fix up the cabins," and just as
they reached one, which Nabob selected as the
best one for the young girl, Chum called out
griiffiy:

' " “'hat’s you young—’uns chi uning about?"

“ I was tellin‘ Miss Flo’ we fix up her cabin
fer her, and that this wasn‘t sich a bad place to
stay after all.”

“ I guess not: it‘s a nice island, and when I
can’t live nowhar else I am coming here to
hang out.”

“ I wouldn’t mind staying here altogether,”
suggested Nabob.

" “'aal, you want to do it, for you‘ll soon be
behind prison walls, boy, just as soon as my pal
gits back from headquarters, where he has

one. "
g “ ls you going to take the lady back to pri-
son !"

“ In course we is.‘

“ And me too ?”

“ Sart'in."

“ \Vhat has I done?” .

“ You helped her out O’jail, and we'found you
in disguise o’ petticoats, and that is a great
crime. young feller, as you‘ll soon know.” 1

“ Say. if we promised you a nice leetle sum 0
money wouldn’t you let us go?”

“ Nary: but how much does you call a snug
sum 0' gold !"

“A hundred dollars.”

“ Bah !”

“ W'ell. say fifty more.’

“ I gits two hundred and fifty and expenses
for this job, with prospects of more when Peg

1

v

' gits back."

“ I‘ll give you five hundred dollars, if you take
us to New York.”

“ VVherc‘s the Chink, lad ?” ‘

“ I‘ll give it to you when we it there.‘

“ Promises are birds in bus es; but money
dcwn are realit .” h
“ l have got yabout seventy-five dollars With

,.

“ 1 don‘t believe you."

“ I has.”

” And I have a ring, which the matron of the
prison allowed me to keep.

“ It is worth over a hundred, I guess, and.l
will give that to you as security, though I Will
get Nabob to buy it back for me when we reach
New York. for I would not part with it for any
sum." said Flora coming forward. .

“ Let me see the money and ther ring.”

Nabob took out his money, every dollar he
had left, and handed it to the man to count.

seventy-five ?” he growled.

“I thought there was seventy-five: count it
again.”

“ I won’t, for I don’t make no mistakes; now,
miss, let me see the ring.”

“ You’ll let me buy it back, sir?”

“ In course I will.”

She handed it to him, a pretty little gem which
Egbert Markham had given her when she be-
came his wife.

“ It hain’t worth more than a hundred,” he
said, critically examining it.

“ It is worth fully that much, sir.”

“ I will consider the matter and let you
know.”

“ Why not decide now?” asked Nabob.

“ Because I hain’t able to do so.”

“ Give us back the money and ring until you
do decide.”

“ No, I’ll keep ’em ontil I make up my mind.”

Nabob saw at a glance that the man meant to
keep them, but he nodded to Flora to come
away, while he said:

“ All right, sir, and when you decide, we’ll be
yonder, fixing up the cabin.”

Then he went to work, and with what blan~
kets and things that had been left, he made
Floré quite comfortable.

Then the young girl set to work to cook some—
thing for them to eat, and when ready they
called the man to join them.

He had a voracious appetite, and more than
did justice to what was before him, leaving but
a limited suppl for his young prisoners.

“ Have you ecided, sir?” asked Nabob, as the
fellow was lighting his pipe.

‘ L Yes. ”

“ Then you will let us go to New York!” cried
Flora, eagerly.

“ Not much, for there is no boat to go in, and
we can’t swim for miles.” '

“ I could make a raft with these cabin logs,
sir, and go across with the tide,” said N abob.

“ NP, there’s more‘ money in my keeping

u.

“ Then give Miss Flo’ back her ring, and I
want my money.”

“ You’ll not get ther ring or the money, boy,
fer they is my leetle fee fer havin’ to keep yer
here ” and the man laughed.

“ You are a thief, that’s what you are,” cried
Nabob, and quick as a flash the man turned
and dealt him a stunnin blow full in the face.

Nabob dropped as if k' ed, and Flora sprung
to his side with a cry of alarm, while the in-

human wretch walked off with a laugh.

“ Don’t cr , Miss Flo’, for it takes a hard
knock to ki me, though he did make me see

stars. ..
“ But I know jist what he is now, and I shall
act accordin’,” and Nabob remained motion-

less.

“I feared he had killed you, Nabob,” said
Flora, anxiously.

“ Not a bit of it; but just let him think I is
bad hurt, and I’ll lplay a game on him as will
surlprise him, fer hain’t as big a fool as" I
l 7

“ What would you do, N abob ’9‘”

“ He’s a thief and a brute, as you have seen,
and so we has got to fight Old Nick with fire.

“ He’s got a pistol in his coat pocket hanging
on yonder tree, and wears that knife in his
belt

“Now, you go and tell him you thinks I is
bad hurt, and when he comes this way, you slip
to his coat and git the pistol.

“ Then you keep it ontil you kin give it to
me.” -

“ Would you kill him, Nabob?”

“ I would like to play boss with him, and if
we has the pistol, we in tarn ther tables on
him, Miss Flo’.” .

“All right, I will do as you say,” and Flora

retended to be doing all literoould .to revive
Nabob, for she nw thattheuimn was 
them, and with some anxiety, .as fihongh
fearedhehadhnrttheboy. _. . ~y  

Then she arose, and walking hastily toward
where Chum was sitting,smokmghis pipe, and
cried, anximisly: . e

“ Oh, sir, I do think poor Nabob is dead.”

“ No! he’s all right,” he answered: but he
seemed anxious, for he turned pale and quickly
arose.

“ Go and see him, sir, and I’ll get some water
for him,” and she started toward the spring,
with a cup in her hand, While the man walked
quickly toward where Nabob lay.

As she went along she glided near the tree, on
which hung the coat, slipped her hand in the
pocket, when she saw the man was not looking
back, and drew out the pistol.

Then she hastened on to the spring, got the
water and walked back to where Nabob lay,
seemingly unconscious.

The man was trying hard to revive him, and
Nabob was “playing ’possum ” splendidly.

A bruise on the forehead showed where the
fist had struck, and the man saw that it was
swollen, and that he was greatly frightened,
Flora. could see.

" 1’ll carry him to the cabin,” he said, and he
raised Nabob in his arms and carried him into
the cabin which the boy had been arranging for
Flora.

“ If you would get a bucket of sea-water, sir,
to throw on him, it might do good,” said Flora.

The man hastened away, and in an instant
Nabob was on his feet, and Flora handed him
the istol.

“ Now, Miss Flo‘, when I tackles him, you get
the handcuffs out of his pocket, for he’s got two
pair there in his coat, and you slip ’em on his
wrists for me.”

“ I will, Nabob.”

In a few moments the man came hastening
back, with a bucket of water; but. just as he
drew near the cabin, Nabob suddenly appeared
in the doorway, a pistol leveled full at the heart
of the amazed ruifian, who uttered a cry of ter-
ror and dropped the water.

" J ist stop right there, Chum, if you don’t
want me to kill yer.

“ Now. Miss Flo’, them irons, please."

“ \Vhat the deuce does this mean, boy?“ cried
the man.

“ It means business clean through, Cliummie,
for I hain’t so badly hurted as you thought.

“ Hold on! if you moves a inch, I’ll drive
lead through." . ' '

“Why, lad, don’t be Silly, for I was joking
with you about not letting you go, for I intend-
ed to.”

“ “7e11, I hain‘t joking now, and you wasn’t
joking when you hit me the lick; but come, Miss
Flo’, for we want this man safe.”

Flora had run to the.man’s coat, seized the
handcuffs, and was returning with them, when
the fellow. dropping his hand upon the knife in
his belt, called out: ‘ .

“ Drop that weepon, boy, or I'll kill you i”

“ You drop the knife, and quick, too,” was
the plucky response. _

The man saw that he must take the risk of a
shot from the boy, and suddenly. he dropped
low, and then bounded toward him, knife in
hand.

But Nabob did not fire at random. as the fel-
low had hoped, but pulled trigger With good
aim, just as his adversary was about to spring
upon him.

A cry from Flora and a groan from the 'man
almost mingled with the report of the pistol;
but Nabob sprung forward, and was ready to
fight to the death, when his enemy threw up his
arms, the knife fell from his hand, and he drop-
pc . his length upon the ground. _ .

“ Oh, Nabob! you have killed him 1” cried
Flora. in alarm. .

“ Maybe I have, and just maybe he’s a-playin’
‘possum, Miss Flo’, so let me see how dead he 18
afore you come too near,” and the boy took up
the knife. and with his pistol ready to strike a
blow. walked toward the prostrate form.

“ He’s dead. Miss Flo’,” said the boy, quietly.

“ Oh, Nabob!” I

‘ ‘ I couldn’t help it, Miss Flo’, indeed I couldn’t,
for he had to die, or we would have been at his
mercy, and like as not he’d killed me.

“ I am sorry, Miss Flo’, awful sorry: but I
shall bury him decint, and you kin say a prayer

 

over him, for maybe he was a good man once,

“Seventy~three dollars;‘ I thought you said

 

and then we can get away from here, and we’ll
get back our money and the ring, too.”

Seeing that Nabob really seemed to feel the
death of the man at his hands very much, Flora
made the best of it, and the boy began to dig a
grave over in the sand, as well as he could with
the implements at hand.

Then the money and ring were taken from the
man’s pocket, and together they carried him
over to the grave, wrapped him in a blanket,
and placed the body in it.

The Lord’s Prayer was then said by Flora, as
she stood at the head of the grave, and the
young girl then sun a burial hymn, in a clear,
beautiful voice, Na b standing with bowed
head uncovered the while, and with the tears
rolling down his cheeks.

It was a strange, a touching scene, and one
that those two never for 0t.

Then the grave was [led in and the two
turned away, Nabob going at once to work to
make his raft.

But he was confronted with a difliculty he
could not overcome, for the surf, slight as it
was, beat the logs back as fast as he drew them
into the water, and he was forced to give up,
saying resignedly:

“ We must stay here, Miss Flo’, until that
man comes back.”

(T o be continued—commenced in No. 193.)

 

Cowboy Work and Service.

The Reality of the Great Cattle-Range Life.

BY F. G. DUGRO.

 

COWBOYS are'talked about in the newspapers
as often as sea-serpents, and W101]. about as much
accuracy. The real cowboy, if he is not quite
so romantic an object as the cowboy of fiction,
is certainly a more useful member of society.
Few people in the East seem to know what a
cowbo ’s work really is.

Catt e roam freely all over the prairie States
which make up the cow country. There are a
great many large ranges under fence, but these
are, after all, only as s ks .on the great open
sea of rolling grass. ach stock-owner marks
his cattle by branding them, and also by clip-
ping their ears in various shapes and cutting
what are known as “ wattles ” on their dewlaps.
All of these combinations are registered by the
State stock associations, just asthe Federal Gov-
ernment registers trade-marks; so that, if you
see a steer with three horseshoes side by side
branded on his left shoulder, and the left ear
cropped, and the right ear sharpened, you have
only to look in the rand—book to see that he be-
longs, say, to the Anglo-American Land and
Cattle Company.

These cattle have all to be gathered by their
owners every summer in order that the steers
ready for the market may be selected and driven
to the nearest railway for shipment to Chica o,
and that the spring calves may be marked
fore they are old enough to leave their mothers
and thus be left without means of identifica-
tion. When one learns that the winter storms
sometimes drift cattle hundreds of miles away
from the home range, it seems as if it would be
almost impossible for the owners to recover
them. And so it would be if it were not for the
system of ‘ ‘ rounding-up,”or codperation among
the owners in collecting theirstock. Ever own-
er of any importance belongs to the stoc asso-
ciation of his State. If he does not, he has to
keep his cattle fenced,and this is not only a.
great expense to him— for a fence requires con-
stant watching and repair—but it is also a posi-
tive source of loss unless he supplements his pas-
ture system by the stall-feedin system, which
has not yet been found profita l . For in the
snow-storms the cattle will keep drifting in the
direction of the storm, in order not to have the
drivin snow in their faces, and if the are
we by‘the‘ barbed wire on the leew side
of the pasture, they will stay right there, often
until the young stockand the weaker amon the
cows die from hunger and exposure. here
they are not fenced they will keep on drifting
till they find shelter in some can on or under
the lee of a hill, and manage to ive on what
grass they can get throu h the snow.

Each State is divide into“round—up” sec—
tions. In each of these sections there will be
perhaps some ten or twenty “outfits.” The
foreman of one of these outfits is appointed
general foreman of his round-up by the stock
association. and the foreman and riders of the
other outfits in that section have to obey his
orders during the general round-up, which is
conducted under the regulations of the stock
association. Each of the outfits in the sec-
tion sends a wagon and all their riders, some-
times only six or seven in number, and some-
times in large outfits—as many as twenty, to
the round—up.

These wagons carry the “ bucks’ ” beds and
provisions for the expedition, and each wagon
has with it the boss of the outfit, a cook, and
two horse herders, called the “ day wrangler”
and the “ night wrangler.” These two men
have to look after the "bunch ” of cow ponies,
of which each rider has a “string” of from
half a dozen to a dozen. These ponies are rid-
den iii rotation, and those not in use are herded
by wranglers near the wagon while they rest
and graze. The round-up “works” the whole
of the country comprised in its section, and in
the course of ageneral round—up every acre of
land in the whole great expanse of the cow
country is searched and the cattle are gathered
from it.

The round—up works along the streams, and
the wagons always camp on the bank of a
creek. Early in the morning—sometimes, when
the day’s work is a heavy one, long before day-
light—all the riders, perhaps one hundred or
one hundred and fifty men. gather at the round-
u boss’s wagon. He starts along the creek
with his little army, and at intervals sends oif
little “ mobs” of half a dozen men, who spread
out to the right and left of the creek. At the
end of the morning‘s “ circle riding ” these rid—
ers all meet at a designated spot on the creek
called the “ round-up ground,”some five or ten
miles from where they started. To the round-
up ground they drive all of the cattle they
have gathered. and here the horse wranglers,
who have driven the ponies to the round—up
ground, are waiting for the boys to take fresh
mounts.

As soon as all the men have come in from
“ circle," and changed horses, the work of " cut-
ting ” the cattle, or dividing them according to
the marks on them, begins. There are, perhaps,
20,000 cattle in all. These the foreman orders
roughly divided into perhaps half a dozen
bunches. Then each bunch is taken charge of
by the boss and riders of one of the outfits. The
men dispose themselves in a circle around the
bunch, and the boss then rides slowly into the
surging mass of alfrighted cattle. When he sees
a cow with one of the brands belonging to his
outfit on her he looks to see whether she has a
calf with her. If she has not he leaves her for
the present, but if she has he ridesslowlytoward
her, and as she pushes her way through the
other cattle, he keeps close at her heels, and al-
ways between her and the center of the bunch,
until she reaches its outer edge. Her instinct
is to try to hide from him among the other cat-
tle. and when she finds herself on the outside
she makes a desperate effort to dodge past him
into the center of the bunch. But his active,
clever little horse turns and twists about with
far more than the dexterity of a polo pony, and
when she finally recognizes the fact that it is
hopeless to make any further struggle she
makes a brisk away from the bunch. Her calf
with her. As soon as she is fairly clear of the
bunch the boss rides back into it and leaves her
and her calf to one of the riders posted on the
outside, who adroitly sli in behind her and
runs her off about a bun red yards to where a
man is posted to “ hold the cut.” or take charge
of the cattle sent out to him by the boys. When
the next cow and calf are cut out that cow sees
the first one and runs to her with the cow in-
stinct of uniting when alarmed. As soon as half
a dozen of them are collected in the cut they

 

are quite easy to hold, and so the work proceeds
until all of the cows with calves belon ing to
that outfit are out of the bunch. Then t e “re-
presentatives ” ride into the bunch. These
representatives, of whom each wagon on the
round—up usually has two or three, are riders
sent from various outfits in adjacent round-up
sections to drive home such of their cattle as
have strayed off their own section during the
winter. The representatives throw their stock
right into the cut with the outfits and then the
cut 18 moved on to the next bunch and that
worked in the same way, while another outfit
took charge of the bunch just left. When all
the outfits have cut their cows and calves they
work the bunches a second time for the dry
stock—bulls, steers, heifers, and dry calves.
The-object of making two jobs of it is to di-
minish the chance of any boss running ofl‘ with
calves not his.

At the end of the morning‘s work all of the
cattle are in the various outfits’ cuts, except
those which are on the range of their owners,
that is to say, in the immediate vicinity of their
ranches. The various cuts are then thrown
into one large herd, which is called the “ gen-
eral cavvy,”and the stock left in the bunches
are driven off toward where the round-up work-
ed the day before, so that they may not again be
Worked. Then the round-up rides into camp for
dinner. The “ cavvy” is left in charge of two
or.three men, according to its size, who are de-
tailed by the general foreman to herd them for
that day. They remain on duty, with a brief
rehef to (go into camp and eat, until nightfall.

After inner the wagons move on a little fur-
ther along the creek, and the work of the morn-
ing is repeated, but not so much ground covered,
as it is usually two or three o’clock in the after—
noon before the first round-up is completed. The
afternoon round-up ground is where the wagons
are gomg to camp for the night. '

Meanwhile the men on herd drive the cavvy
on to this last camp-ground, and when the cuts
from the second round—up are thrown into the
herd the day’s work is over. At nightfall these
herders are replaced by the first relief, who bed
the_cattle down by crowding them together and
riding slowly around them, until, as it grows
darker, the wearied herd lies down for the night.
These men are “on ” until ten o’clock, when the
second relief takes the herd until midnight; the
third relief takes it until two o’clock, and the
last relief until men on the cavvy for the fol“-
lowing day relieve them.

In this way the work goes on until the herd
becomestoo cumbrous to drive from camp to
camp, and then it is split up, and men from
each outfit are detailed to drive its stock to the
home range. At the end of the general rcund-
up, which lasts five or six weeks, each owner
has his cattle in his own range, and then the
outfits are once more each under the orders of
its own boss. Then each outfit rides over its own
range, rounding up the stock and branding the
calves. As soon as this is done the first “ beef—
gatherer” begins, and when the outfit has
rounded up the home range for this purpose
and driven the beef to the railway there are a
few days of rest for the men. Then come later
and closer shipments of beef, and in December
the last work of the season, when the bulls are
collected and put in a pasture, where they are
kept until late in the following summer. After
the bulls are pastured the cowboys are thrown
out of employment until May, except such of
them as are retained to watch the pastures and
take care of the various ranches. .

 

 

The Cruiser’s Guns.

IT was in the year 1868 that a British cruiser
was disgzfiched from Sidney around into the
Banda on a double mission, and I, John
Faulkner, purser’s clerk, was aboard of her.
Three or four British vessels trading amon
the islands had mysteriously disappeared, an
on several occasions reports had been made of
piratical pursuits and attacks. The name of
our cruiser was the Pandora, and her orders
came from the Home Office. The instructions
were to cruise from Avoo Island, off the west
coast of Guinea, across to Celebes, taking in the
whole length of the Banda Sea, a distance of a
thousand miles.

We had been cruising a month before any-
thing happened out of the usual routine of sea
life. Then, one morning soon after daylight,
as we were steaming at half-speed t0 the west
of the Amboyna Islands and about three leagues
away, we picked up a sailor lashed to a plank.
\Ve at first thought him done for, but after the
surgeon had worked over him for a while he
came back to life, and in a couple of hours was
strong enough to tell his story. He was a Ger-
man, and one of the crew of a German brig
trading to the Spice Islands. Three days pre—
vious, to the northward of Bouro Island, the
brig had been attacked by three native boats,
each carrying about forty men. Her crew con-
sisted of twelve men, and, as they had no wea—
pons but muskets, the captain decided that de-
fense would be useless. He hoped that an easy
capture might induce the pirates to spare the
lives of the men.

It was about dark when the pirates seized the
brig, and their first movement was to drive the
crew below and place a. sentry over them. Then,
while a portion of them sailed the brig to the
east, along the north coast of the island, the
others gathered such plunder as the ship afford—
ed. Her cargo was no good to them, but they
wanted sails. cordage, chains, ropes, and what-
ever could be made use of in fitting out their
own craft. Before midnight they had anchored
in a cove on the coast, and the crew were order-
ed on deck to get the plunder overboard. She
was first stripped of her sails, and the crew
were engaged in this work when they witnessed
the death of the captain and mate on the deck.
The pirates believed, or pretended to believe,
that the brig had a large sum of money aboard.
She may have had a few hundred dollars, but it
was not likely that she had above a thousand at
outside figures.

Whatever sum she did have was handed over
without dispute, but the pirates were not satis-
fied with it and made threats. The mate was
killed first, getting a blow on the neck from a
huge knife which almost severed his head from
his body. At this the captain went down on his
knees and prayed and begged for his life. They
ordered him to produce more money and when
he could not they made his death a painful one.
They cut ofl‘ his ears and nose and fingers. and
as he danced about the deck in his agonies the
wretches uttered loud cheers of delight.

The men aloft were in a state of terror, but
Hans. the man we picked up, was probably the
coolest 0f the lot. A quantity of ilanks and
spars had been thrown overboard efore the
mate was killed. When the tragedy began all
the natives crowded aft to be spectators, and
fora time the bow of the brig was deserted.
Hans was on the foremast, and when they be-
gan torturing the captain he made up his mind
to escape. He asked a comrade to go with him,
but the man was too terrified to move. Hans
descended the shrouds and dropped overboard.
He first swam to the shore, which was only a
few hundred feet away, but finding people on
the beach, he rested for a few minutes and re—
turned to within fifty feet of the brig, where he
found a plank. His idea was to make use of
this float to land himself further down the coast,
but a current set him out after a little, and he
lashed himself fast, hoping that wind and sea
might eventually drive him to the shore. In-
stead of that he was driven off the island and to
sea, and hunger, thirst and the hot sun had
about done for him when the Pandora picked
him up. We were within five hours’ run of the
cove where the German brig had been anchored
and the cruiser was at once headed in that
direction.

Hans had given information that the pirates
afloat and ashore numbered at least 300 men.
and that each of their boats carried at least
one six—pounder. It might therefore be ex-
pected that a lively scrimmage would take
Dlace when we ran in upon them. The Pan-
dora made ready for it, and her crew, all of

 

 

whom had learned the story of the German,
were enthusiastic to get to work. Our approach
was sheltered by t e heavy forest along the
coast, and the pirates had no information of our
presence until we rounded a point and brought
the bight or cove into full view. It was a body
of water about a mile wide by four long, and at
the lower end was the dismantled brig and
three native craft. There was a good depth of
water in the bay, and we drove right down at
the felIOWS Without slackening speed until only
about a mile away. They were at first thrown
into wild confusion, but they presently recov—
ered and rushed aboard of their dhows to give
us a fight. The wind was off the land, thus
being fair for them to come out, and as our
captain saw that they meant fight he turned
the Pandora about and steamed off, as if afraid
of them. They set sail and followed after,
and we drew them at least two miles from the
beach before the cruiser turned on her heel
again. The dhows had six-pounders, as Hans
had stated, and they popped away at us and
kepvt wasting their powder for a full half hour.

'hen we turned, every gun was loaded and
every man at his station, and we were not a
quarter of an hour sending the three craft to
the bottom of the bay. One of them was set-
tled by one shot crashing into her at the water-
line. As the last dhow went down we saw num-
bers of pirates floating on the surface by means
of wreck stuff. and our marines were called
upon to fire at every head in sight. Of the
hundred or more who came out to meet us not
one escaped death. It was evident that the island
was a rendezvous, for most of the stuff from the
brig had been landed there, and there were
quarters on shore for at least three hundred
men. The Pandora turned her guns loose on
the place, drivmg the few people ashore to the
woods, and a detachment of men landed and set
fire to whatever would burn. The brig had been
completely dismantled, and, as she had been run
high and dry ashore, we put the flames to her.
Not one of her crew could be found, alive or
dead. Here and there the decks were plashed
with blood, and it was evident that they had
been butchered one after another and tossed
overboard—N. Y. S.

:2
Science and Industry.

 

THE big four-masted, center-board schooner
Benjamin F. Poole is a monster, being 215 feet
over all, 190 feet on keel, with 40 feet beam, and
20 feet depth of bold. Her lower masts are each
100 feet hi h, and her topmasts 55 feet. She
can spread . ,000 yards of canvas.

THE scarcity of small coin throughout the
country has led Superintendent Fox of the
Philadelphia Mint to ask Assistant Secretary
Fairchild for permission to reissue the old five-
cent nickel and one-cent bronze pieces now
stored in the Treasury vaults. If the coins are
recoined, as Mr. Fox thinks they will be, the y
will first be cleaned by dipping in an acid bath.

LIQUID oxygen in small quantities has been
produced by a number of experiments, but it 15
only recently that solidified oxygen has been ob-
tained. This interesting ex riment was recent—
ly performed by Professor ewar, at the Royal
Institute. It was accomplished by allowmg
lquuid oxygen to expand into a partial vacuum.
w en the enormous absorption of heat which ac-
companies the expansion resulted in producing
the solid substance. The oxygen in this condi-
tion resembles snow and has a temperature of
200 degrees Centigrade below the freezing point
of water.

EVERYTHING is done on a large scale on the
Pacific Coast, according to the dwellers thereon.
But the biggest load of sawlogs ever hauled over
a road in Washington Territory recently arrived
at Seattle. There were eighteen logs, ranging
from 24 to 120 feet in length. The longest ones
are intended for vessels’ masts, and one has a
diameter of 36 inches, and another 48 inches in
the middle. The latter contains 13,000 feet of
lumber, and the total measurement is about
100,000 feet. Their gross weight is about 650,000
pounds, and they are to be shipped to the
Atlantic Coast.

A LARGE steam crane has just been erected in
Hull, England, which is said to be the most
figwerful steam crane in the United Kingdom. It

3 been tested with a load of 103 tons, and also
with a load of sixty-five tons, which it raised at
the rate of 6 feet 6 inches per minute, and mak-
in g a complete revolution—that is, the load
passed through a distance of 283 feet in 6 min~
ute.» 50 seconds. The body of the crane is con—
structed of wrought—iron plates and framing,
and is of great strength. The movable block
and swivel is a very nice piece of workmanship,
and three men can easily twist around the heavi-
est load when suspended.

SINCE the Bessemer, Thomas and Siemens
processes have rivaled each other in producing
mild steel, sleepers of that material have come
more generally into use in Europe. A good
steel sleeper should not cost more than from 125
to 150 per cent. of the cost of a wood sleeper,
while its advantages are numerous. The aver-
age life of steel sleepers is considerably longer
and the width of gage is better maintained than
is the case with iron, while the systemsof fasten—
ings are safer and more easily maintained, and
the “ old material ” value of a steel sleeper is
greater than that of a wooden sleeper. The
Dutch and German railways. especially, have
used steel sleepers with satisfactory results.

 

 

instigate

Beadle’s Dime Library.

414 Red Renard, the Indian Detective. By Buffalo
Bill.

415 Hot Heart, the Detective Spy. By Wm. H.
Manning.

416 Monti" Jim, the Black Sheep of Bismarck. By
Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

417 Tucson Tom, the Bowie Bravo. By Geo. St.
George. V

418 The Bat of the Battery: 0r, Joe l’henix, King of
Detectives. By Albert W. Aiken.

A new issue erery ll'eclncsday.
BEADLE‘s DIME LIBRARY is for sale by all News-
dealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail on re—
ceipt of twelve cents each.

Beadle’s Half-Dime Library.

480 Three Jolly Pards. By Philip S. Warne
481 Moll Mystery, the Girl Detective. By Edward
L. Wheeler.
482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan of the Great
Range. B ' Oll Coomes.
4&3 Ferrets A oat; or, Wizard Will’s Last Case. By
Col. Prentiss Ingraham
484 Comanche Dick and His Four Invincibles. By
Henry J. Thomas.
A new issue every Tuesday.
THE HALF-DIME LIBRARY is for sale by all News-
dealers, five cents per copy. or sent by mail on re
ceipt of six cents each.

Beadle’s Pocket Library.

143 Deadly Dash: or. Fighting Fire with Fire, By
Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

144 Little Grit, the Wild Rider. By Col. Prentiss
Ingraham.

145 The Tiger of 'l‘aos. By Geo. Waldo Browne.

146 Cortina‘s R’ght Bower. By Frank Dumonl.

147 Nobby Nick of Nevada. By E. L. Wheeler.

.4 new issue emery l'll'edrleeday.
BEADLE’s POCKET LIBRARY is for sale by all News-
dealers, flve cents per copy, or sent by mail on re-
ceipt of six cents each.

 

 

 

Beadle’s Boy’s Library.

128 Wolf Cap; or, the Night—Haw ks of the Fire-
Lands. By Capt. Chas. Howard.

129 Silver Spur; or, the Mountain Heroine. By
Edward Willett.

130 .llieetsea, Queen of the Plains. By Percy B. St.

ohn.
131 Wistah, the Child Spy. By George Gleason.
132 The Island Trapper. By Edward Willett.
A new issue every Saturday.

BRADLE‘s Bov‘s LIBRARY is for sale by all News-
dealers, flve cents per copy, or sent by mail on re—
ceipt of six cents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
98 William St.. New York.

 

 

 

 

 

 

.1,

 

 

 

 

   
 
 
   

 

 

 

.......~  «9.2.4.. 1.4.“. n