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i - WISHING. I \
Do you wish the world were better?]
Let me tell you what to do,
Set a watch upon your actions, keep
them always straight and true;
Rid your mind of seifish motives, let
your thoughts be clean and high,
You can make a little Eden of the
gphere you occupy.
Do you wish the world were wiser?
~ Well, suppose you make a start,
By accumulating wisdom in the scrap
book of your heart. '
Do not waste one page on folly; live
to learn and leara to live.
If you want to give men knowledge,
you must get it ere you give.
»
Do you wish the world were happy?
Then remember day by day
Just to scatter sgeeds of kindness as
you pass along the way;
For the pleasure of the many may he
ofttimes traced to one,
As the hand that plants the acorn
shelters armies from the sun.
: —Woman's Life. -
S?.SE.EfEE‘z’.SES'E’.SE.:"aE2‘SSIEEETE.:"ESESESEE‘.’-?u
r ]
Brother: &
o
Friends.
W}
LT T T T T eA T A T AT LLLT L
“See, brother-iriend, what a fine
pony 1 have!”
Yellow Sun had ridden at a gallop
acrogs the prairie to where a group of
jads were playing at hoop and sticks.
The. rider addressed White Hawk
who had been looking on, absorbed in
the game. This tall youth turned to
greet the newcomer,
“Why, so you fave, other brother!”
he said. Ile examined the prancing,
spotted pony with a young Indian’s
keen interest and delight in horses.”
“My father just now gave me this
pony. He says it is time for me to go
to the hunt,” said Yellow Sun, proud
ly. “He bought this fine horse of my
uncle at FPomca Creek. Now see him
make the antelope ashamed.”
He wheeled and dashed across the
prairie, his mount going with the rush
of a frightened deer. He cut a beauti
ful circle and returned.
“Alas,” said White Hawk, “my
father is too poor to give me a pony.
He has only his riding pony and one
.old Pawnee travoeis horse.”
Yellow Sun's elation vanished. His
face fell. These Ogaliala youths had
been brother-friends since they had
blinked at each other from their cra
dl beards. They had shared all things
in common. KEach had taken delight
in giving to the other his most cher
ished possession.
Yellow Sun hesitated but an instant;
then he leaped from the pony's back
and thrust its lariat into the hands of
his friend.
“Take this horse, brother; it is
yours,” he said. *I did not indeed in
tend to keep this one. “Doubtless my
relatives will give me another.” ‘
White Hawk's delight was fine to
see. “How—how—how,” he said. It
seemed that he could say ncthing else.
Then, in a daze of joy, he leaped upon
the pony’s back and rode away to try
the animal’s speed.
Soon all the people in the village
knew of this gift. Nearly all of them
said that Yeflow Sun was a most gen
erous young man to give away his first
pony, and just as the buffaloes were
beginning to come. The lad’s father
and mother, however, said nothing,
Some days afterward a herd of buf
faloes was seen by the village scout,
and when he cam 2 in erying his re
port, ail the hunters went scurrying
after their horses. Everybody who
had a horse and could bear arms rode
away to the hunt. ;
In this excitement Yellow Sun, who
had failed to receive another pony,
was left behind. His grief and disap
pointment were so great that he went
away from the village and hid himself
during the day.
When he returned to the teepee at
night he. found %his parents looking
very sober. They said nothing forl
a long time; then his mother svoke.
“White Hawk has killed a buffalo,”
she said, “and ‘his people have meat.
Your father had bad luck and we
kave nothing, except what is given to
ue.””’ ' i : .
This quite broke the boy’s heart.
His brother-frfend, riding the new
pony, had gone to the hunt without
thought of him. And now to be re
proved for his own generous act was
moye than he could bear.
That night he secretly gathered his
clothing and weapons and stole away
from the village. Two years before
the Ogallalas bad followed an old buf
falo trail far to tlie southwest, where
they had spent the winter, hunting
with a friendly tribe,
Yeilow Sun took this old trail, deter
mined to go to the Cheyennes and stay
among them until he had become a
hunter and warrior., He tramped on
resolutely day and night stopping
only to sleep and to kill small game
or dig roots for his eating. His ba>-
baric young heart was steeled by the
desertion of his brother-friend.
He had travelled this way for ten
suns or more. Then, one day, as he
lay hidden among some sage-bushes,
he was awakened by the beat of a
horse’s hoof. He peered frem cover in
alarm, but was astonished to see no
one more formidable than White
Hawk, his brother-friend, astride of
the gift pony, and jogging along the
trail, evidently in search of himself,
He rose cvith a joyful shout, all his
grievance forgotten, and the brother
friend, in turn, rode at him, whoocping
with delight.
“How—how!” shouted White Hawk.
“I thought indeed I should never find
you. I made a great circle ‘nunting for
your trail. Come, let us now go home
ward.”
Without more ado they turned back,
perfectly understanding ecach other.
White Hawk did not need to say that
’ he had gone to the buffalo hunt in a
- whirl of excitement, and supposing
that his friend was also furnished
with a pony.
The two travelled northward lei
swicly. They took turns in riliag,
stopping to hunt or to rest as they
were hungry or sleepy. They came
to the North Platte River, and crossed
at a ford.” On the north of this river
they were both riding upon a rolling
prairie one afterncon, when three
horsemen appeared upon a hill
The strangers were l'adians, who
halted and took careful cbservation of
the travellers. After some minutes,
during which the youths went forward,
trying to appear unconcerned, the
three put the quirt to their ponies and
came on at a gallop. By their long
lances, their dress and their manner
of riding, the Sicux lads knew that the
strangers were Pawnees, and that they
were at that instant riding to attack.
White Hawk, who was riding bhe
hind, at once leaped from his pony.
“Po you ride on, brother-friend,” he
said. “Go very quickly and escape! I
shall contend with these people.”
While they stood, each urging the
! other to escape, the Pawnees capme on
swiftly. They had recognized the lads
as Dakotas, and they raised a war-cry.
Neither of the brother-friends would
leave the other to his fate. They could
not hope to escape, riding dcuble; ‘so
they croucaed behind their pony and
fitted arrows to their bows.
Although they were but lads of six
teen or seventeen, they uealized fully
their situation. Taey bPelieved them
selves about to perish, and lost all
sense of fear in a fierce desire to in
flict iniury on the enemy.
The Pawnees had been quick to dis
cover that they had to ccentend with
very young warriors—mere boys, as
it appeared—and they charged with
reckless assurance. They refrained
from shooting at tae Sioux pony, for
they wished to capture the animal.
To avoid injury to the horse and to
obtain a cross-fire the Pawness sep
arated, two passing round on one side
and one on the ather.
“To not shoot yet,” said Yellow Sun.
“Pretend to be afr2id, an? when they
are very close let us shcot two of the
dogs.”
So they shrewdly withheld their ar
rows and crouched low upon the
ground, as it cowering in fear. The
Pawnees came into full view and hoot
ed in derision. They balted their
horses for a moment, crying to the
Dakotas if they were indeed men to
get up and fight. Then, eeing the
youths shrink, apparently in abject
terror, they raised their lances and
charged them.
The Pawnees had come within a
dozen leaps when the SiouX boys
sprang to their feet with taut strung
bows. Their own war cries were now
launched in the shrill, disconcerting
yell of the Ogallalas.
The Pawnee ponies, thus suddenly
confronted, reared and plunged, and
the lances their riders hurled went
wide of the mark. Good fortune at
tended upon good judgment in this
fight, and the two foremost Pawnees,
at the distance of half a dozen steps,
were stricken out of their saddles by
the Sioux arrows. The third wheeled
his pony and recde rapidly away. -
' Then, as the young Sioux, wildly
elated, shot their arrows after the run
ner, they saw upon a di:tant rise a
large party of mounted Pawaeses, The
three whom they had fought ad been
the advance scouts of this big war.
narty. f
Already Yellow Sun bad trodden
upon a dragging horsehair rope and
halted& one of the riderless ponies, The
lads now secized upon the lances and
shields of the fallen Pawne:zs, and as
a further tgophy, each snatched from a
shaven poll its gaudy headdress. With
in the minute both werc mounted and
riding at speed.
As they cast backward glances they
saw a string of frantic riders—forty—
filty or more—winding over the hiils
like the coils of a huge, swift and
angry snake. The head of that ser
pentine line, however, was gaining
upon the tail. Soon it became evident
that the foremost Pawiees were
mounted upon swifter icrges than the
one which Yellow Sun was riding.
Again Yellow Sun called to White
Hawk, urging him to ride on at full
speed and escarpe,
‘“You have as gcod a horse as any
‘one!” he shoutzd. “Ride faster! Tell
the Ogallalasy:l was not afraid to
fight!” :
White Hawk was holding in his
pony and hugging the flank of the
Pawnee herse.
. *“Not so!’ he cried- “Give me your
blanket roll, brother, and cut away
your saddie. We shall cutride them
till night comes!”
Yellow Sun cbeyed, but had no hope.
Each backward -glance revealed the
desperate nature of the chase. White
Hawk now held his pony, straining at
the bit, well in the rear, and pricked
the Pawnee on with the point of his
lance,
In this manner they képt a lead =atill
some howshots in advance after sev
eral miles of running. Yet the sun
was an hour high and the foremost of
the long, winding line of pursuers
were drawing steadily, surely nearer.
On the still autumn air and above the
beat of hocofs, the Sioux boys could
hear the sharp, explosive cries, “Huh!
Hiee! Howa! Huh!”and the cracking
strokes of the quirts.
When it appeared that all would be
over with them quickly, the Sioux sud
denly dropped from g level stretch in
to a marrow, fiat valley, where a night
fog, low and dense, had arisen,
Here was the bare chance of escape.
‘The boys heard the enemy yelling,
and looking back, saw them spvead
fanlike upon the bluff behind. ‘Whether
they fled up or down, they knew the
Pawnees weuld sweep this valley, di
viding their forces without an ' In
stant’s delay.
The two plunged into the fog, call
ing to each other to know what would
be best to do. It was Yellow Sun
who decided.
Halfwzy across the valley they
turned up the stream, then flung them
selves off their ponies. To don the
Pawnee headdresses and to cinch a
blanket upon the Sioux pony, covering
its spotted sides, was the work of a
few geconds. |
Then, with the clatter of hoofs in{
their ears, the two mounted, and with f
trailing lances, galloped forward. Xach
leaned low upon his horse’s neck as it
searching for a trail. Soon they heard
the clatter and the sharp yells of rid
ers on all sides, and two or three fig
ures, dimly outlined in the fog, ap
peared, riding on either hand.
To these near-at-hand enemies the
brother-friends paid not the slightest
heed. They. rode forward imitating
their yells .and warning cries, but im
perceptibly falling to the rear until alt
the pursuers had passed; and when
the last beat of hoof had died away
they halted and grinned at each other.
In the fog they wandered, evading
straggling hunters, until nightfall.
Then, with infinite caution, they made
their way out of the valley and rode
fomeward. They arrived at the Ogal
lala village in sefety, and were wel
comed with the acclaim which always
greeted the retura of the successful
warrior or huier in the old days.—
THE VENDETTA IN THIBET.
W. C. Jameson Tells in the Booklove
ers’ Magazine of Its Survival
' The worst trait cf the Thibetans
is their ungovernable hostility and
their love of warfare. Each tribe is
genarally at war with its neighbor,
and in many cases on the most trival
pretext. Two men may quarrel over
the possession of a knife or equally
vallicless article. The aggrieved
party returns to his village or en
campment and reports the facts in
the case to his chief. His right to
the article in dispute is never con
sidered; it is enough that he should
have quarreled cver it. War is im
mediately declared on the trib=a of his
rival by sending messengers with ar
rows dipped in blocd, and the head
of any unfortunate prisoner of war
who may have been captured prior
to the outbreak of hostilities. From
that meoment the quarrel becomes
deadly. No concerted action is
taken, the future strifs being much in
the nature of a gigantic feud. When
a man of one tribe meests one of the
rival tribe, a combat takss place un
til one or the other has been Kkilled,
the victor cutting off the head of his
veaquished foe as a trophy of his~
prowess. His standing among his
people is determined by the number
of these gory trophies adorning the
roof of his dwelling. Poisoned food,
and the poisoning of wells and
springs, are subterfuges which reither
tribe feels itself perfectly at lberty
to use to encompass the downfall
of a rival. This sanguinary fenud may
last for months, or even years, until
a powsrfal chief, not in the quarrel,
steps in and orders representatives
of each of the warring factions to
meet at his hut. There a feast has
bion prepared; and two bowls of food,
oxe of which contains poison, are
placed before the two emissaries. The
tribe whose representative dies of
poison is proven the aggressor, and is.
obliged to pay a heavy fine of cattle
and other articles of value to the
tribe whose claims have heen 3us
tained by the process of ordeal. A
similar method is adopted in the set
tlement of disputes between two indi
viduals of the same community, when
the wives and the entire possessions
of the man who dies belcng fo the
one who survives.
Boon lsland.
Prcbably Boon Island would be but
little known outside of New Hamp
shire, Maine and Massachusetts if it
were not for the fact that the island
is the terminal of the Cape Ann trial
course. Perhaps it would be more
proper to call the island the northern
terminal, but at any rate Boon Is
land gains a menticn in this way
every time a new battleship or cruis
er is tried off this coast, as all thuse
not built cn the Pacific always are.—
Boston (Globe.
Di vers in the British navy, before
| being yissed as proficient in the craft,
have to be able to work in twelve
fatboms of water for an hour and
twenty fathoms for a quarter of an
| dour