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lingered longest, and where green things still grew in the crevices, scant wiry growths of much root and little leafage.

Mesquite and scrub-oak mounted with boulders toward the canyon's rim, and grew there, green against the whites and softened grays. Some of the bushes had been burned, and stood black and skeleton-like, throwing queer shadows.

Over certain of the huge supporting pillars of the great sides there was a touch of pink-the soft and exquisite coloring of ages. At its mouth a spring, solemn and limpid, with the sentinels of a band of wild burros keeping guard over it. One, striped like a zebra, threw up his head and listened, and the and the four about him became rigid as they stood. He looked toward the trail that approached from the limitless. stretch of desert. A spot disturbed its unbrokenness.

The leader snorted, and wheeling, plunged up through the canyon, his fellows at his heels. Like goats they mounted from rock to rock, and at the head-the only place where even they could scale, climbed precariously to the edge. Then they turned, snorting and vengeful, and watched the strange approaching spot.

It lengthened, ran into a ribbon. ef dull color, and fluttered up the soundless canyon.

A half-hour it must have taken in approaching a halting place, and the sentinel burros, still upon the brim, perceived their enemies, the Indians.

An old warrior grotesque in a work-a-day civilian's suit, came first on his wire of a pony, behind him two young bucks, each mounted and one leading an old gray horse, then

the squaws, four of them, as squat in the saddle as out. They moved without sound other than that made by the horses in their painful and sometimes almost impossible efforts to scale the rocks that all along blocked the way, and reaching a certain spot, where high on the jagged canyon side a recent fire had burned, they solemnly dismounted. The horses were tethered, or held by the squaws, all except the gray horse; he was led farther up the steep side to a shelf of rock, where mesquite, charred and blackened, stood.

A pile of ashes lay there, at its roots, undisturbed by the elements. A twisted rifle, broken by the heat, lay across it. It was the funeral pyre of Wielietopsi.

Close by the young bucks dragged fresh mesquite and piled it high. The gray horse whinnied nervously, and from below, another as old as he, remembering other scenes like this, perhaps, answered with a kind of reassuring cry.

Stolid and motionless, with heavy faces and black, back-tossed manes, the squaws waited, Lucy of the Hualapais among them.

Then the old warrior lifted up his hands toward the strip of blue summer sky above, and spoke into the stillness. A shot followed his words, and then another, in rapid succession.

The gray horse lurched, and fell, and the flaming mesquite caught him.

The sides of the canyon gave back the echo of a great sigh. For at last the spirit of the wandering Wielietopsi was appeased. His stiff old charger was with him in the Hunting Ground.



A Compilation by Pierre N. Beringer

The Whitehead Torpedo. The Whitehead fish-torpedo, as used by both Russia and Japan, has already confirmed, in a measure, in the present war, the recent prophecy of a naval expert that this engine of war and its user would gain a halo of romance eclipsing that surrounding the gun and the ram.

This projectile has become the most terrible, both in its effects and in its silent, insidious flight, of all the modern engines of war.

First produced in 1866, with a speed of only six knots for a short distance, and a low explosive power, the "baby," as the seaman calls it, has become a highly organized machine. The Whitehead is divided into eight compartments, containing, respectively, the firing arrangement, explosive chamber, air chamber, balance chamber, engine chamber, buoyancy chamber, bevel-wheel chamber, and rudders and propellers.

It is sent into the water by revolving tubes, dropping gear, abovewater tubes, or below-water-tubes; usually the latter, owing to the danger of the torpedo being hit by the enemy if held above the water line.

The explosive charge contains 200 pounds of gun-cotton, and when the torpedo, gliding swiftly beneath the water, comes in contact with a ship, a rod at the head is driven in against a detonator, which explodes the charge, and tears a hole. in the ship's bottom.

Pure Food.

The passage of the bill establishing national standards for food pur

ity to apply to exported foods and those entering into interstate commerce will make it incumbent on the various States to bring their food standards into uniformity with the national schedule. They cannot be compelled to do so since their jurisdiction covers all foods sold in their own States, but it will be to their interest to do so for two reasons. In the first place, divergent national and State standards will result in confusion and inconvenience. A manufacturer must comply with one standard for goods to be sold in the State, and with another for goods intended for the interstate market. He could only choose between them by choosing between the two markets. In the second place, the federal standards. are not hap-hazard requirements. They are the result of careful study by Government experts. They are as lenient as honesty, sound commercial policy and sanitary considerations will permit; but they re thorough and are said to be fair and judicious. Few, if any, States have been so careful; most of their inclining now to too great leniency standards are somewhat arbitrary, and again to unnecessary harshness.

Gold Production.

The total gold production of the world from the discovery of America to the year 1901, according to the report of the United States Mint, is in round figures $9,811,000,000. Pure gold of this value would weigh about 16,272 tons, and occupy a space equal to feet. 27,099 cubic Graphically this amount could be. represented by a solid circular tower of gold 20 feet in diameter and 86

feet high. The total yearly world production of gold since 1901 would increase the height of such tower about 3 feet each year.

Postal Regulations.

The Post-Office Department has been trying for a good while to raise the second-class rate of postage on everything but the daily and Sunday newspapers. Why not on these? Simply, of course, because they are political journals, and have political influence, and the department is afraid of them. It prefers to confine these attacks to publication of little or no political influence, and the daily papers uphold the department in so doing.

There is no logical reason why any daily paper should go through the mails at one cent a pound and weeklies and monthlies be deprived of this privilege? The law makes no distinction of this sort.

The Auld Brig o' Ayr. The "Auld Brig o' Ayr," which Burns made dear to all lovers of his immortal poetry by the famous dialogue between the new bridge and the old one is falling into decay. Well, it may, for the date of its foundation cut into its wall is 1252. Six hundred and fifty years is a respectable age for a bridge. Burns makes it say to its spick and span rival who reproached it as being old-fashioned and ugly. "I'll be a brig when ye're a shapeless cairn.' This was sheer boasting, for already the beginnings of the decrepitude that has come upon it must have been working in its foundations. Its supports are now crumbling. An architect, who is also an archaeologist and an enthusiast for Burns, reports that it will soon collapse unless it be shored up and renewed. He is trying to induce the town council of Ayr to appropriate $3,500 for its preservation. The council is willing te act, it is said, but is delaying over a question of whether the money

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Orthography of the War.

We may expect a fine assortment of spellings for place names in Japan, Korea and China. It is not a matter that need worry the painstaking persons who revise the war despatches before they are put in type. type. The other day, a publisher suspected that he had had paid too dearly for a map compiled for him because the name of a Korean treaty port was spelled Mokpo. He discovered the form Mok-p-ho on another good map, and it seemed But who shall more impressive. decide which is correct when the doctors disagree?


No uniform system for the transliteration of these Eastern into either English, German or French has ever been adopted. We are not much enlightened even when we consult the best German maps, which, in their spelling of Oriental place names, perhaps come nearer to representing native pronunciations than those of any other country. If we consult the Kiepert maps we shall find many spellings that differ from those on the Andree maps; and in that court of last resort, Stieler's Hand Atlas, many spellings are discovered that differ from them both. If we are perplexed between Wiju and Wi-ju, we may turn to a well-written English monthly published at the capital of Korea. Surely, this magazine should give the acceptable transliteration of the name of the Korean town; but here we are confronted by an orthographical monstrosity, Eietchu, and prefer impalement on one of the other horns of the dilemma.

Several attempts have been made to secure uniform spelling of these Eastern names, and they have helped the map-makers to a considerable extent; but the outcome has


Picturesque Hawaii.-On the beach at Waikiki, Honolulu.

not resulted in uniformity and is confusing.

Kiepert adopted rules by which he regulated the spelling of these place names on his maps, and later Richthofen suggested rules for the spelling of Chinese names; but the Germans to-day mix up the two systems, and the geographers of other Western countries, while conforming with some of the principles laid down by these authorities, do not adhere to either of them.

There are many difficulties in the way. The broad foundation of the best geographic orthography in America is, as stated in the rules of the Royal Geographical Society, that vowels should be pronounced as in Italian, consonants as in English, and that "the true sound of the word as locally pronounced shall be taken as the basis of spelling." But what is the true sound of the word as locally pronounced? Metchnikov in his language map of China, for example, gives eleven principal dialects of the Chinese language as spoken in China proper. A foreigner's idea of the correct spelling of a Chinese place name usually depends upon the particular group of natives with whom he confers. If he adopts the Cantonese pronuncia

tion of the name of China's capital he will say that Peking is the best English approximation of the sound. If he learns the pronunciation from the inhabitants of the province in which the capital is situated he will say that the best English rendering is Peking. He may add incidentally that the name of this province appears on American and British maps as Pechili or Pechili, or Chihli or Chili.


A few years ago our board that the geographic names ruled spelling "Pekin" should be used in all government publications; but the board was even violently assailed with weighty objections to this orthography, and last year it felt its earlier constrained to reverse decision; so Peking is now the governmental usage in this country.

Another difficulty is that all the Oriental pronunciations pronunciations seem to Western ears more or less vague and indecisive. As Reclus remarks: "Americans and Europeans are constantly struggling to distinguish between 1, m and b, between h and p, between ien and ian and an and in.' It is a sort of go-as-you-please spelling match. The best way for Westerners who are not Orientalists is to adopt the simplest spellings

used on good maps. Hyphens have their significance, but they are better omitted than misplaced. PingYang represents the correct sound more nearly to the ordinary reader than P-hjong, Yang. Chifu is perhaps better than Che-foo, and no one need feel injured if the hyphen be omitted.

We can understand what places are meant and worry along very well, even though some of the spellings be truly wonderful. Some day order will be brought out of this chaos, but it may not be until the whole question of the proper local pronunciations and the best phonetic representations of them is submitted to a committee of competent Orientalists whose decisions shall be generally accepted.

Who are the Japanese? Originally the islands that make up Dai Nippon, or Great Japan, were peopled by a Caucasian race, who

occupy in Japanese history a position similar to the early Britons in English history. These people, now represented by the hairy Ainus of northern Yeddo, were driven northward by the swarm of Mongolians who swept across Korea from northern China. The first great leader known was Jimmu Tenio, who founded his dynasty about 660 B. C. He is deified as the descendant of Amaterasu, Goddess of the Sun. Another string of Mongolics came from Malaysia by way of the string of islands. To this southern strain is probably due the mercurial temperament of the Japs. Superficially the Japs seem to resemble the Chinese, but close examination proves that the race has been evolved independently. They, however, absorbed the earlier Chinese civilization.

The history of the succeeding centuries is vague until about 200 A. D., when an Amazonian empress


California, the Sportsman's Paradise.-A three hours' catch on lower Eel River with rod and reel.

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