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m I# 4 O O
The Silver Bullet.
4 HIS three saved silver times life, bullet and has
my
f it had a history
when it came into
my possession. Do
> you wonder that I
wear it as a talis¬
man?” said Senor
Don Faustino Or¬
tega, of Sinaloa,
Mexico, talking with two friends in
the reading room of an uptown hotel.
He speaks excellent English, and as
he said this he held up to view the
battered silver ball which he carries
always strung by a gold wire to his
watch guard.
“It weighs just an ounce,” the Senor
Don continued. “It was given me by
my grandfather, who told me the story
of it when he put it into my hands on
his dying bed. He was clear of mind,
and I could not doubt a word of his
story, strange as it may sound to you.
‘It was more than fifty years ago,’ my
grandfather said, ‘that a monster wolf
appeared at my ranch on the San
Ysidro and destroyed many sheep and
calves and colts. My herders chased
the creature with lassos and fired at it
to no purpose; it was so fierce that it
would not retreat before one man. My
major domo sent word of these things
to me, and I went to the ranch. Three
different times I fired at that wolf,
feeling sure every time that I must
have hit the creature, but it trotted
away with no sign of hurt. When
after my third trial I found the flat¬
tened bullet at the place where the
wolf had been when I fired, 1 gave up
trying to kill the beast with powder
and lend, and I rode 100 miles to con¬
sult with a mau who was learned in
such matters. He heard my story.
“ ‘Make a bullet from the first silver
you find,’ he said. ‘Scratch upon it a
Christian cross, and try the wolf with
that. If your aim be true, the bullet
will not fall flat like the other.’
“The rest of the story I will tdll in
my own words. My grandfather made
the wise man a present and started
back for the ranch. Crossing the
channel of the San Ysidro, at that
season of the year nearly dry, his
horse stumbled, and where its hoof
had disturbed the sand and pebbles
there lay exposed a nugget of pure
silver, such as often is found in the
bed of this stream, washed down from
the mountains, Dismounting, my
grandfather picked up the nugget, and
after his arrival at the ranch hammered
it into the bullet you see. The next
night he watched for the wolf, which
came with the rising moon, and he
killed the creature with this silver
bullet. His flocks and herds were
troubled no more by any wolf, and he
kept the bullet until the last day of
his life.
H i Keep it, my dear grandson,’
were his last words to me concerning
the bullet. ‘It has been lucky for
me, and it may succor you in some
bad time.’
“For six years I carried the silver
bullet in my pocket before the chance
came to demonstrate that it was a
lucky piece for me. The house at my
hacienda, like Mexican houses in gen¬
eral, is of one story, so that all its
rooms are on the ground floor. My
sleeping room opened upon a long,
narrow hallway, with a door opening
upon the courtyard. I had occasion
one morning to go to the further end
of this hallway to get some business
papers that I kept there on a shelf. A
snake must have crawled into the
hallway the day before when the outer
door was open. I passed where it
lay without seeing or arousing it, for
the first I knew of its presence was
the loud buzzing of its rattle behind
me as I rummaged among my papers.
I turned to see a six-foot rattlesnake
coiled between me and both the doors.
It was thoroughly angry and was ad¬
vancing upon me after the fashion of
a rattlesnake that means to attack—
lunging forward a third of its length
and then bringing its coils up the
same distance—while its rattle in the
closed and narrow passage filled the
narrow place with its sound.
“I was clad only in nightshirt,
trousers and slippers, and there was
nothing in sight with which to defend
myself. The reptile was all the time
drawing nearer, and had covered half
the distance to me before I thought of
the silver bullet in my trousers’
pocket and realized that my one
chance of stopping the snake lay in
striking its head with the bullet. I
was in my boyhood very skilful in the
throwing of a stone, and the art has
never left me. A thing that made my
chance a little better than it might
seem in telling, is the rattlesnake’s
manner of meeting an attack. It
does not try to avoid, but confronts
whatever threatens it, always turning
its head s» as to face the object. I
chose a time when, after a forward
lunge, it drew forward into coii and,
at six feet away threw the bullet at
its head with all my force. It struck
true, and as the snake half straight¬
ened its coils and writhed upon th
floor I stepped safely past it into my
room. After that of course it was
easy to make an end of the snake with
my pistol. had certainly
“The silver bullet
been my salvation in this case. It
was less than two years afterward that
it was the means of saving my life in
another and very surprising way. I
was in Chihuahua visiting the Las
Quesadas mines, in which I held an
interest, and on the day after my ar¬
rival rode in from the hacienda six
miles away, where I was staying, to
see the mine superintendent. He was
in the magazine where the explosives
used in blasting were kept. It was a
stone house, or dugout, built in the
side of a hill, and was reached from
the foot of the slope by a steep path.
I started there to find him, and had
climbed the hill to the very step of the
house, when, in taking my handker¬
chief from my pocket I pulled the sil¬
ver bullet out and it fell and rolled
down the slope. I turned and ran
back after it, keeping my eye on it as
it rolled, for I knew if I once lost
sight of the bullet my chances of find¬
ing it were small.
“I followed it to the foot of the hill
and saw it roll into a ditch that once
had been used in draining a mine
working. The ditch was about four
feet deep, and just as I jumped into it
and stooped to pick up the bullet there
came a roar like the bursting of a hun¬
dred cannon and a shock that sent me
flat on my face, stunned, in the bottom
of the ditch. When I came to my
senses I found myself half buried in
dirt. I got clear of that and upon my
feet, so that I could look around to
see what happened. Where the maga¬
zine had been there was a great hole
in the hillside, with smoke floating
about it, and not so much as one stone
of the building to be seen.
“The wreck was caused by the ex¬
plosion of half a ton of giant powder
that had been stored there. What had
set it off could not be known, for not a
trace of the superintendent, the fore¬
man, and two Mexicans that had been
with them, was ever found. The
shock and flying rock wrecked half the
buildings at the mine camp, and sev¬
eral persons there were hurt. You
can judge for yourself what my chance
Avould have been of ever telling this
story to you if I had gone on into the
magazine—if the bullet, falling from
my pocket, had not been the cause of
my turning back down the hill and
going into the shelter of the ditch just
as the explosion came.
“This silver ballet is the bullet that
killed the bandit Tomas Viejada, who,
for several years folloAving the fall and
banishment of President Lerdo, ter¬
rorized Sinaloa and several of the ad¬
joining States of the Mexican repub¬
lic. He had been one of Lerdo’s par¬
tisans and was very bitter toward who¬
ever was prominent as a supporter of the
Diaz Government. The best that one
Avho was so unfortunate as to fall into
his poAver could hope Avas to be held
for ransom. I was on my way to my
ranch, a journey of two full days on
horseback, carrying money Avith which
to pay my men. Being delayed by
the difficulty in crossing a flooded
stream, I was not able to get to the
estancia—the home ranch, Americans
would say—by daylight on the second
day, but stopped in the early evening
at the hut of one of my shepherds for
supper and to rest my horse. The
man, Antonio Bajada, an old and faith¬
ful employe, had something important
to tell me.
Li i Tomas Yiejada has planned to
waylay you in the Pnerte del Leon,’
the shepherd said, ‘to rob and kill
you, or hold you captive for ransom.
I learned of it only to-night. How I
found out? Well, senor, my daugh¬
ter, at San Elizario has a SAveetheart
in Yiejada’s band, and my little son
overheard him telling her yesterday
what the chief meant to do, and came
to-night to tell me. Ho started back
for home only a feAV minutes before
you came.’
“The Puerte del Leon was a gap in
the foot-hills four miles beyond, through
which the road to the estancia lay. I
said to the shepherd, ‘give me to eat
what you can get most quickly, and
then I Avill go on to the estancia by the
path round the Yenada peak. The
bandits Avill have no idea of my com¬
ing by that route. You shall guide
me.’
“While the shepherd set out his
earthen platter of frijoles and a couple
of tortillas, the remains of his supper,
my eye fell upon his gun hanging up¬
on two pegs against the side of the
hut. It was an old-fashioned, smooth¬
bore affair, but I knew that Antonio
could do some wonderful shooting with
it.
Li i You’ll want to take your gun
along, Antonio,’ I said to him. ‘We
may run in with the bandits on the
way we’re going.’
“ Alas, senor, but it cannot serve us
to-night,’ said the shepherd, shaking
his head. ‘I have no bullets. Pow¬
der and caps I have, but my last bul¬
let I fired at. a coyote yesterday.
“I thought of my silver bullet. The
case was urgent, ‘Try this,’ I said,
and handed it to him. ‘Will it fit the
barrel of your gun? Just a bit too
large, is it? A little hammering out
will make it the right shape.
“While I bolted the tortillas and
fg^oles as fast as I could, knoAviug
that the quicker we got away from the
place the better, Antonio, with the
back of his axe, pounded the bullet
out so that it would go easily into the
barrel of his gun. You can see the
marks of his hammering now, andhow
the ball is lengthened out and not
quite round. He had the gun loaded,
with the silver bullet upon the pow¬
der, by the time I had finished my
supper. He blew out the candle be¬
fore he opened the door for us to start
forth, for there was no telling who
might be watching the house. Carry¬
ing my saddle, heavy with the silver
dollars packed in the cantinas, on his
shoulder, and with his gun in hand,
Antonio led the way to where my horse
was picketed. He had put the Baddle
on the horse’s back and I was just
drawing the cinch tight when I heard
the shepherd’s warning ‘Sh-hl* and
looking in the direction in which he
was gazing I saw a man on horseback
about fifty yards away. He had stopped
his horse and sat looking at us; through gleam
the darkness I could catch the
of the silver buttons on his braid jacket and
pantaloons and the silver on his
sombrero, and I knew by these that
he was a caballero, a man of preten¬
sions above those of a common cattle
herder. Across his saddle horn he
held a carbine.
“Behind my horse Antonio dropped
to one knee and levelled his gun be¬
neath the horse at the horseman. The
stranger, perhaps detecting this move¬
ment, suddenly raised his carbine, and
with the motion Antonio fired. At the
explosion my horse jumped and ran,
throwing me from my feet and drag¬
ging me by the riata, which I had not
taken from his neck. I kept my hold
on the rope and managed to bring the
horse to a standstill after being dragged
a considerable distance. When I got
to my feet, a good deal shaken up,
Antonio was running to me, bringing
the saddle and his gun. He clapped
the saddle on the horse and cinched
it fast.
ii i For God’s "sake, senor, mount
quickly,’ he said, and helped me into
the saddle.
ii i But the man—the man you shot
at—where is he?’ I asked, for the
horseman was nowhere to be seen.
a fc God knows, senor. He was hit, I
know, and his horse carried him away.
That caballero—I am not mistaken,
for I have seen him often—was Tomas
Yiejada. Heaven preserve us if his
men are near.’
“With the shepherd running ahead,
picking the way, we rode into the
shadows of a spur of the mountain,
and from there made our way by a
roundabout route to the estancia,
where we arrived after midnight with¬
out having seen or heard anything fur¬
ther to cause us alarm. Next morn¬
ing I despatched a messenger to the
nearest post of the rural guards, and
witliing thirty-six hours a detachment
of the rurales were on the trail of the
bandits. They tracked them night
and day and hunted them down, kill¬
ing seven and bringing five back, who
were tried at drumhead court-martial
and shot. Not one would confess
what had become of their leader, more
than to say that he was dead, and no
searching availed to find his body.
“Nearly three years afterward, as I
visited my ranch, the major domo
handed me my bullet.
L6 i Miguel Quintana, the hunter,
found it in the mountains,’ he said.
‘The bones of a man were lying about
as the coyotes had left them. The
bullet was in the skull. Miguel bur¬
ied the bones and brought the bullet
to me. We know now, senor, what
became of Tomas Yiejada.’’’—New
York Sun.
Value of tlie Egg: In Sickness.
The value of egg albumen in food in
certain diseased conditions is pointed
out by Dr. 0. E. Boynton, says the
Pacific Medical Journal. When fever
is present the appetite is nil, he says;
what one wants is an aseptic article of
diet; the white of an egg, raw, serves
both as food and medicine. One way
to give it is to drain off the albumen
from an opening about half an inch in
diameter at the small end of the egg,
the yolk remaining inside the shell;
add a little salt to this and direct the
patient to swallow it.
In typhoid fever the mode of feed¬
ing materially helps us in carrying out
an antiseptic plan of treatment. Fur¬
thermore, the albumen, to a certain
extent, may antidote the toxines of
the disease. Patients may at first re¬
bel at the idea of eating a raw egg;
but the quickness with which it goes
down without the yolk proVes it to be
less disagreeable than they suppose,
and they are then ready to take a sec¬
ond dose.
Religious Parliament.
In a lecture recently given in Edin¬
burgh, Abbe Victor Charbonnel out¬
lined the plan of a religious parlia¬
ment to be held at the World’s Fair at
Paris in 1900, and stated its object to
be these: First—To affirm the edu¬
cational value and social power of re¬
ligion for the realizaton of the human
ideal. Second—To proclaim religious
liberty, that the conscience of every
man is entitled to tolerance and re¬
spect, and to protest against all fanat¬
icism or race or religion. Third—To
seek, in default of doctrinal unity,
the fraternal union of all men, only as
being religious, and to raise above
the differences of sects the principles
in which they are all united.
)
PHILOSOPHER ON A LECTURING
TOUR IN NORTH CAROLINA.
LIVELY RIDE ON 11 CIRCUS TRAIN.
After Undergoing Many Hardships He II
Landed Among His Friends and
Is Royally Welcomed.
“Hard, hard, indeed, is the contest
for freedom and the struggle for lib¬
erty.” “There is no rest for the
wicked.” This world is all a fleeting
show and Jordan is a hard road to
travel, I believe! There are other
ejaculations I might utter, for of la*e
there has been trouble on the old
man’s mind. You see, I was invited
over here to talk to these people in a
humorous and philosophic way, and
my Avife said as the larder was getting
Ioav and the girls needed some more
winter clothes, and the tax man was
bobbing around and the grandchildren
would be expecting something for
Christmas, she thought I had better
go. So she packed my valise with
my best clothes, and fortified me with
a little drug store of camphorated oil
and flannel and liver medicine and
paregoric and cough drops and quinine
and headache powders, and so forth
and so on. We kissed goodby all round
and I departed feeling like I was being
driven off from home by sad necessity.
I took the Seaboard Air Line at At¬
lanta bound for Charlotte, via Monroe,
but our engine broke down at Greens¬
boro about dark and this delayed us
three long, dreary hours, and when we
reached Monroe it was way after mid¬
night and the Charlotte train had
gone. There were three nice ladies
aboard and several gentlemen, who
Avere greatly disappointed, but the
conductor was kind and sympathetic
and said there yvas a circus train near
by that was going to Charlotte right
away and if we didn’t mind riding
thirty miles in a cab he would get us
the privilege. The ladies, said yes,
and we did, too, and climed in. It
Avas as dark as Erebus. We felt our
way to find seats, but there was noth¬
ing but some long tool boxes whose
lids were hard and cold. There was no
fire and the Avind blew through a broken
glass on the back of my head. The
ladies chatted away merrily, for they
were going home, but I wasn’t and I
couldn’t chat to save my life, for I was
very tired and thought of that good
soft bed at home. By and by the
conductor came in with a lantern and
took up our tickets and left us in the
dark again. About that time the ani¬
mals got restless and the lion gave an
unearthly howl. You see this was a
menagerie train.
“The animals went in two by two,
The elephant and the kangaroo,"
and every time the cars careened about
or swung round a curve vve could hear
some deA T ilish noise ahead of us. “Oh,
mercy,” said the youngest girl, “sup¬
pose they break out!” “They Akill eat
the tenderest and svveetest first,” said
I. “Lions always do.” I pulled my
cloak up over the back of my head
and ruminated. For two long hours
we jogged along, for the train was
running slow to suit the wild beasts
and we were of no consequence.
It was near 3 o’clock when we got
to the suburbs of Charlotte and
stopped. Nobody was looking for us—
nobody rushed forward to meet us, no
porter nor hackman—no omnibus or
street cars, not even a wagon or an ox
cart or a darky. The moon had hid
herself to keep from seeing our mis¬
ery, but we seized our grips and wraps
and satchels and made a march for the
electric lights. My companions soon
separated from me and I marched in
single file with my big A 7 alise full of
clothes and the drug store, and strug¬
gled for three quarters of a mile up the
long and hard sidewalk. I am not
used to arc lights, and the flickering
BhadoAv of every tree and telegraph
pole looked like a man in ambush who
was fixing to hold me up. I had for¬
gotten Avhere the hotels were, and un¬
consciously passed them, for the doors
were all shut, and there was no sign.
By and by I met a policeman and he
conducted me back to the hotel, and
I was as thankf\il as I was tired and
humble. My pitiful tone of voice se¬
cured me kind attention and a bed.
When a man is far away from home,
his warmest welcome is an inn. But
I did not rest Avell.
A 10 o’clock supper, on fried sausage
and scrambled eggs and stale oysters,
disturbed my corporosif y and I dream¬
ed that the tiger got loose and came
prowling and howling around the car
and somehow I got a hatchet out of
the tool box and lifted the young lady
through the port hole npon the roof,
and volunteered to defend her with
my life and my sacred honor. The tiger
made desperate leaps to get up there,
but every time he got a paw on the
eave, I cut it off and let him fall back
again. I don’t know what became of
the other ladies, but think that other
AA-ild beasts got in and eat them np.
The men had all fled prematurely, but
I saved the pretty girl, the sweetest
and tenderest, before I woke up.
Who wouldn’t, in a dream’
curious ^he things are dreams the’old'^ anVh*
next trouble on 0
mind came over him at Sal^K^
where I was billed to S lecture
On my arrival I
body, the Presbyterian synod inS
able mou. were Preachers scattered and elders innuj J
good people all among t
Avere holding . over town TvJ
wouldn night sessions, J
t haA-e adjourned f or y,
Kiuley or Grover Cleveland‘1
the was not yellow all, the fever Episconal or a fire. But J 3
to lecture on the Holy Land, bishop l
had been recently, and I where
wonld f aU between knew that
and get smothers,] jJ
Mr. Marsh seemed to feel very
and apologized by saying that whe
he booked me he did not know
these meetings. “Well,” said I
saints will all go to these meetings '
but _
you have sinners in this town.
He 1
admitted that there were souk
And . T I went . ahead ,
so and lectured an
was surprised to see before me a se
lect and cultured audience, select
and I hope elect according to Presbt
terian theology.
So all is well that ends well. Th
next evening found me at the nice lit
tie town of Marion, in western Nort]
Carolina, away np in the land of th
sky. They are good people there,
know, for they filled the court lions
that night and gave me an ovation
The old soldiers are thick iu tha
region, and they came out ti
hear me, and some of u
got together and talked of oli
Bob Lee and Joe Johnston and Ge
erals Early and Bender and Wbitin
and Hoke and Ransom and Pettigre’
and Clingman and others, Thei
eyes watered and their hearts burne<
Avithin them, and they got closer am
closer together. What a people thes<
tar-heels are—these descendants o;
the Scotch! About every other nami
is Scotch, a McLane or McFall oj
McLaurin or McArthur or McSome
thingelse, and then there are Aleiani
ders everywhere and CaldAvells am
Carlyles. After the lecture AveliadJ
musicale at the hotel by the giftei
Gruber family, who keep the hotel!
Mr. Gruber and Mrs. Gruber andtheil
seven children. I have heard mucll
music during my long life, but I nevei thJ
heard any better anywhere. How
old man’s fingers did dance upon tha
strings; how sweetly did the still
handsome matron sing the “Last Rosa
of Summer” and other old time songa
of Scotland! What delightful chorda
came from the piano under the touch]
of the young ladies and the sweet little!
black-eyed girl of only ten summers!
And when they played “Home, Sweet
Home,” with variations, I could hardn
ly restrain my tears. I felt like we alii
ought to hold a seance if vve could]
with John Howard Payne and tell him
how the world loved him for his song.
I had sweet dreams that night. I am
still on the grand rounds talking to
the unpretending people of this grand
old state. It seems to have got out,
however, that I had joined John Rob¬
inson’s circus and gone off with it.
Some of these mischievous drummers
told that. Yours on the wing.—Ban
Abf in Atlanta Constitution.
THE TOWN NEARLY RUINED.
Twenty-Eight Stores and the Diapensar.
Burned At Kershaw, S. C.
Early Sunday morning the town o
Kershaw was almost laid in ruins by i
fearful conflagration which origins ei
in a bakery. Twenty-eight store
Avere destroyed, eight of which"si
empty. The town dispensary was al
so burned. Loss over $100,00 » 111
surance, one-third. The dispen^d
and original package stores are a o
loss.
ATLANTA MARKETS.
COBBECTED WEEKLY. 4(3
Groceries.
Si. o£ kettle jjs
Syrup, New Orleans open house
mixed 12>*<®20e: 30<§)65c; sugar gre^ 20@50o.
Teas, black 6%g 6 \ Salt S * da i
Rice, head 6Wc; choice c ’ r , a m
sacks $1.25; do bbls. 2.2 e
ry ,
??K@12rMatches: — 65c. Cheese, fun 1.T5;
65s 50c; 200s 1.30® soda
300s 2.75. Soda, 7c; gingersnaps boxes 6c. ie. Cracker^ ^
5Wccream - j.
mon stick 6c; fancy 12@ 13c. 0.»
1.65; L. W. 1.20.
Flour, Orain wS ^
Flour, first patent $6.10 fancys -.4- -! extra] .j
$5.00; straight $4.75; white 48c. ^ 47o
family, #4.30. Corn, Texa. TOO
Oats, White 35c; nnx e d 32c
38@40c. Rye. Georgia^c.Hay > ^
large bales 80e; small bales <5c, - b „>»4
thy small bales 70c. Men , P H sn-all
42c. Wheat bran Shorts large 95c. wckf Stock^ ' meai ^ &
sacks 80c. 5 WO & -cord-1
per Cotton ton. seed Peas mead 90<®#m«> J c per P" g3 _
ing to kind and quality. Grits
Country Produce. ercatn
Eggs 15@16c Butter
20®23e: fancy Termesi ee ^
choice err I 2 ^e Georgia 12K@-15e-^ spr :ng
chickens, hurge 13(5 411..
ducks, Irish potatoes, puddle. lWgg* ‘->@35c J^Tusheh P bu3h Sweet * 1
none: Tennessee none pe* bu. . Roney,
65<Sm<5 _ P
potatoes, the conn -
dull, strained 6(?'<*: i 1-0° ;;
Onions, new crop, 85c®#
2.25(22.50 per bbl.
Prorlsions._ sides ar s L A
Clear ribs boxed
5Kc; icfMtured belli* 1 * hr
hams ll® 12 *^ej , California quaWJ v
bacon 10(STJe. Lard, best
ond quality 5;®: eoaipound
Cotton- t . k:
Market closed steady
