$1.00 a Year, In Advance.
" FOR GOP, FUR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH."
Sins'? Copy. 5 Cents.
VOL. XIII.
PLYMOUTH, N. C, FRIDAY, AUGUST 15, 1002.
NO. 23.
V
(T l.il
TO EUBLB
BY JACK
FOR la
worl
usua
In tl
OR land travel or seafaring tbe
rorld over a companion is
tally considered desirable.
the Klondike, as Tom Vin-
fcent found out, such a companion js ab
solutely essential. But he found it out,
rot by precept, but through bitter ex
perience. "Never travel alone," is a precept of
the north. He had heard it many
times and laughed, for he was a strapping-
young fellow, big boned and big
muscled, with faith in himself and in
the strength of his head and hands.
It was on a bleak January day when
"the .experience came that taught him
respect for the frost and for the -wisdom
of the men who had battled with it.
He had left Calumet Camp on the
Yukon with a light pack on his back,
.to go up Paul Creek to the divide be
tween it and Cherry Creek, where his
party was prospecting and hunting
moose.
The frost was sixty degrees below
zero, and he had thirty miles of lonely
trail to cover, but he did not mind. In
fact he enjoyed it, swinging along
through the silence, his blood pounding
warmly through his veins and his mind
care free and happy. For he and his
-comrades were certain they had struck
"pay" up there cn the Cherry Creek
Divide, and, further, he was returning
to tiicm irom uawson witn encery
home letters from the States.
At 7 o'clock, when he turned the
heels of his moccasins toward Calumet
Camp it was, still black night. And
when day broke, at 9.30 he had made
the four-mile cut-off across the flats
and was six miles iqFaul Creek. The
trail, which had seen little travel, fol
lowed the bed of the creek, and. there
was no possibility of his getting lost.
He had gone to Dawson by way of
Cherry Creek and Indian River, so
Paul Creek was new and strange. Ey
11.30 he was at the forks, which had
"been described to him, and he knew he
had covered fifteen miles, half the dis
tance. He knew that in the nature of things
the trail was bound to grow worse
from there on, and thought that, con
sidering the good time he had made lie
merited lunch. Casting off his pack
and taking a seat on a fallen tree be
umnittened his right hand reached in
side his shirt next to the skin and
fished out a couple of biscuits sand
wiched with sliced bacon and wrapped
in a handkerchief the only way they
could be carried without freezing cold.
He had barely chewed his first
mouthful when his numbing fingers
warned him to put his mitten on again.
This he did, not without surprise at the
bitter swiftness with which the frost
bit in. Undoubtedly it was the coldest
snap he had ever experienced, he
thought.
He spat upon the snow a favorite
northland trick and the sharp crackle
of the instantly congealed spittle star
tled him. The spirit thermometer at
Calumet had registered sixty below
when he left, but he was certain it had
grown much colder, how much colder,
he could not imagine.
If.alf of the first biscuit was yet un
touched, but he could feel himself be
ginning to chill a thing most unusual
for him. This would never do, he de
cided, and slipping the pack straps
across his shoulders he leaped to his
feet and ran briskly up the trail.
A few minutes of this made him
warm again, and he settled down to a
steady stride, munching the biscuits as
he went along. The moisture that ex
haled with his breath crusted his lips
and mustache with pendant ice and
formed a miniature glacier on his chin.
Now and again sensation forsook his
nose and cheeks, and he rubbed them
till they burned with the returning
blood.
Most men wore nose straps; his part
ners did, but he scorned such "feminine
contraptions," and till now he had
r never felt the need of them. Now he
did feel the need, for he was rubbing
constantly.
Nevertheless he was aware of a
thrill of joy, of exultation. He was"
doing something, achieving something,
mastering the elements. Once he
laughed aloud in sheer strength of life,
and with his cUached fist defied the
frost. He was its master. What lie
did he did in spite of it. It could not
stop him. He was going to the Cherry
Creek Divide.
A FIRE
LONDON.
Strong as were the elements, he was
stronger. At such times animals
crawled away into their holes and re
mained in hiding. But he did not hide.
He was out in it, facing it, fighting it.
He was a man, a master of things.
In such fashion, rejoicing proudly, he
tramped on. After half an hour he
rounded a bend, where the creek ran
close to the mountainside, and came
upon one of the most insignificant ap
pearing but most formidable dangers
in northern travel.
The creek itself was frozen solid to
its rock bottom, but from the mountain
came the outflow of several springs.
These springs never froze, and the only
effect of the severest cold snaps was
to lessen their discharge. Protected
from the frost by the blanket cf snow,
the water of these springs seeped down
into the creek, and, on top of the creek
ice, formed shallow pools.
The surface of these pools, in turn,
took on a skin of ice which grew thick
er and thicker, until the water overran,
and so formed a second ice-skimmed
pool above the first.
Thus at the bottom was the solid
creek ice, then probably six to eight
inches of water, then a thin ice skim,
then another six inches of water and
another ice skim. And on top of this
last skin was about an inch of recent
snow to make the trap complete.
To Tom Vincent's eye the uabrcken
snow surface gave no warning of the
lurking danger. As the crust was
thicker at the edge he was well toward
the middle before he broke through.
In itself it was a very insignificant
mishap a man does not drown in
twelve inches of water but in its con
sequences as serious an accident as
could possibly befall him.
At the instant he broke through he
Celt the cold water strike his feet and
ankles, and with half a dozen lunges
he made the bank. He was quite cool
and collected. The thing to do, and the
only thing to do, was to build a fire.
For another precept of the north run3:
Travel with wet socks down to twenty
below zero; after that build a fire. And
it was three times twenty below and
colder, and he knew it.
He knew, further, that great care
must, be exercised; that with failure
at the first attempt the chance was
made greater for failure at the second
attempt. In short, he knew that there
must be no failure. The moment be
fore a strong, exulting man, boastful
of his mastery of the elements, he was
now fighting for his life against those
same elements such was the difference
caused by the injection of a quart of
water into a northland traveler's calcu
lations. In a clump of pines on the rim of the
bank the spring high water had lodged
many twigs and small branches. Thor
oughly dried by the summer sun they
now waited the match.
It is impossible to build a fire with
heavy Alaskan mittens on one's hands,
so Vincent bared his, gathered a suffi
cient number of twigs, and knocking
the snow from xhem knelt down to kin
dle his fire. From an inside pocket he
drew out his matches and a strip of
thin birch bark. The matches were of
the Klondike kind, sulphur matches,
100 in a bunch.
-He noticed how quickly his fingers
had chilled as he separated one match
from the bunch and scratched it on his
trousers. The birch bark, like the dry
est of paper, burst into bright flame.
This he carefully fed with the smallest
Swigs and finest debris, cherishing the
flame with the utmost care. It did not
do to hurry things, as he well know,
and although his fingers were now
guite stiff he did not hurry.
After the first quick, biting sensation
of cold his feet had ached with a
heavy, dull ache and were rapidly
growing numb. But the fire, although
a very young one, was now a success,
and he knew that a little snow, briskly
rubbed, would speedily cure his feet.
Rut at the moment he was adding the
Srpt thick twigs to the firo a grievous
thing happened. The pine boughs
above his head wore burdened with a
four months' snowfall, and so finely
adjusted were the burdens that his
slight movements in collecting the
twigs had been sufficient to disturb
th? balance.
The snow from the topmost bough
was the first to fall, striking and dis
lodging the snow on the boughs be
neath. And all this snow, accumulat
ing as it fell, smote Tom Vincent's
head and shoulders and blotted out his
fire.
He still kept his presence of mind,
for he knew how great his danger was.
He started at oiice to rebuild the fire,
but his fingers were now so cold that
he could not bend them, .and he was
forced to pick up each twig and splint
er between the tips of the fingers of
either hand.
When he came to the match he en
countered great difficulty in separating
one from the bunch. This he succeed
ed iii managing, however, and also, by
a great effort, in clutching the match
between his thumb and forefinger. But
in scratching it he dropped it in the
snow and could not pick it up again.
He stood up, desperate. He could
not feel even his weight on his feet, al
though the ankles were aching pain
fully. Putting, on his mittens, he
stepped to one side so that the snow
would not fall upon the new fire he
was to build, and beat his hands' vio
lently against a tree trunk.
This enabled him to separate and
strike a second match and to set fire to
the remaining fragment of birch bark.
But his body had now begun to chill,
and he was shivering, so that when he
tried to add the first twigs his hand
shook and the tiny flame was quenched.
The frost had beaten him. His hands
were worthless. But he had the fore
sight to drop the bunch of matches
into his wide mouthed outside pocket
before he slipped on his mittens in de
spair, and started to run up the trail
One cannot-run the frost out of wet
feet at sixty below and colder, how
ever, as he quickly discovered.
lie came round a sharp turn of the
creek to where he could look ahead for
a mile. But there was no help, no sign
of help, only the white trees and the
white hills, the quiet cold and tae bra-
sen silence! If only he had a comrade
whose feet were not freezing, he
thought, only such a comrade to start
the fire that could save him!
Then his eyes chanced upon another
high-water lodgment of twigs and
leaves and branches. If he could
strike a match all might yet be well.
With stiff fingers which he could not
bend he got out a bunch of matches,
but found it impossible to separate
them.
He sat down and awkvardy shuffled
the bunch about on his knees until he
got it resting on his palm with the sul
phur ends projecting, somewhat in the
manner the blade of a hunting knife
would project when clutched in the fist.
But his fingers stood straight out.
They could not clutch. This he over
came by pressing the wrist of the other
hand against them, and so forcing them
down upon the bunch. Time and
again, holding thus by both hands, he
scratched the bunch on his leg and
finally ignited ir. But the flame burned
into the fiesh of his hand, and he in
voluntarily relaxed his hold. The
bunch fell into the snow, and while he
tried vainly to pick it up, sizzled and
went out.
Again he ran, bythis time badly
frightened. His feet were utterly de
void of sensation. He stubbed his toes
once on a buried log, but beyond pitch
ing him into the snow and wrenching
his back, it gave him no feelings.
His fingers were helpless and his
wrists were beginning to grow numb.
His nose and cheeks he knew were
freezing, but they did not. count. It
was his feet and hands that were to
save him if he was to be saved. c
He recollected being told of a camp
of moose hunters somewhere above the
forks of Faul Creek. He must be
somewhere near it, he thought, and if
he could find it he yet might be saved.
Five minutes later he came upon it,
lone and deserted, with drifted snow
sprinkled inside the pine bough shelter
iu which the hunters had slept. He
sank down, sobbing. All was over.
In an hour at best, in that terrific tem
perature, he would be an icy corpse.
But the love of life was strong in
him, and he sprang to his feet. He was
thinking quickly. What if the matches
did burn his hands? Burned hands
were better than dead hands. No
hands at all were better than death.
He floundered along thf trail until he
ca:re upon another high-water lodg
ment. There wcrf twigsand branches,
leaves and grasses, all dry and waiting
the fire.
Again he sat down and shuffled the
bunch of matches on his knees, got it
into a place on his palm, with the wrist
of his other hand forced thei nerveless
fingers down against the bunch, and
with the wrist kept them there. At the
second scratch the bunch caujht r '
and he knew that if he could sU-
pain he was saved. He choked with
the sulphur fumes, and the blue flame
licked the flesh of his hands.
At first he could not feel it, but it
burned quickly in through the frosted
surface. The odor of the burning flesh
his flesh was strong in his nostrils.
He writhed about in his torment, yet
held on. He set his teeth and swayed
back and forth until the clear white
flame of the burning match shot up,
and he had applied that flame to the
leaves and grasses.
An anxious five minutes followed, but
the fire gained steadily. Then he set to
work to save himself. Heroic meas
ures were necessary, such was his ex
tremity, and he took them.
Alternately rubbing his hands with
snow and thrusting them into the
flames, and now and again beating
them against the hard trees, he re
stored their circulation sufficiently for
them to be of use to him. With his
hunting knife he slashed the straps
from his pack, unrolled his blanket and
got out dry socks and footgear.
Then he cut away his moccasins and
bared his feet. But while he had taken
liberties with his hands he kept his
feet fairly away from the fire and
rubbed them with snow. He rubbed
till his hands grew numb, when he
would cover his feet with the blanket,
warm his hands by the fire and return
to the rubbing.
For three hours he worked till the
worst effects of the freezing had been
counteracted. All that night he stayed
by the fire, and it was late the next day
when he limped pitifully into the camp
on the Cherry Creek Divide.
In a month's time he was able to be
about on his feet, although the toes
were destined always after that to be
very sensitive to frost. But the scars
on' his hands he knows he will carry
to the grave. And "Never travel
alone!" he now lays down the precept
of the north. Youth's Companion.
".Tohnny Bull" is Slow.
A striking example of the conserva
tism that still obtains in certain lines
of business in London, says the corres
pondent of the New York Herald, was
brought to my notice the other day.
A young American came to London
on his way to the Argentine Republic
for his health. He noticed how far be
hind advertising methods were com
pared to those in vogue in America,
and on inquiry learned that the cards
in omnibuses and cars are never
changed during an entire year. He
called on several of the largest adver
tising agents, submitted the idea of
frequent change and offered to develop
it for a percentage. The manager of
one concern looked bored and said:
"We were asked by a certain com
pany in the United States to change
their advertisement at least quarterly.
But when we submitted the propo
sition to our directors they agreed that
it was too much trouble."
Sponges of Kubber.
Novelty is shown in a sponge that
has made its appearance. It is of
Russian manufacture and resembles
closely a dark brown sponge, but
while it consists chiefly of holes, what
ever solid material there is of it is rub
ber. These sponges come in two sizes,
oblong, with rounded corners. Wheth
er, being made of rubber, they are less
likely to form germ repositories than
the genuine articles remains to be
seen.
The Genesis' of Fojyg.
Mr. Rollo Russell has for many years
studied the formation of fogs, and now
prints his principal conclusions. Mist
uud fog are ordinarily caused by the
mixture of currents of air of different
temperatures. Fogs that do not de
pend on the meeting of such currents
are rare, but there are many cases
of meeting currents where no fogs are
produced.
.Early Agricultural Exhibitions.
The first agricultural exhibition held
within the limits of the United States
is said to have been organized and
carried to a successful conclusion at
Georgetown, in the District of Colum
bia, in 1S10. TX- claim is disputed,
various towns atihcountics in New
England asserting '.hat agricultural
fairs or expositions were held iu them
at an earlier date. ,
Many thousands of dollars arc spent
throughout the year 'm the purchase
of new packs of cards jSreplace those
soiled by frequent 'ng. Now a
German invert11 2i,-ard a ma
chine to oirot 7000 V ffc.be cards
and " s ,t " V
, march
ways.
WHEN SIZE DOESN'T COUNT.
Mv little boy came running in
Our house one recent day;
His pretty nose was minus skin,
I much regret to say.
On leaving home his two bright eyes
With laughter had been stirred;
Now he had three, to my surprise
(A black one was the third).
Out poured his tale: how Jimmy Jonet
Had caught him unaware,
And mopped the pavement with his bone
While pulling out his hair.
But, then, oh, triumph of the tale!
That youth went on to say
He'd tackled Jimmy, tooth and nail,
And "licked him every way."
Seeking to hide my sinful pride
From that small urchin's view,
I said, "How could you lick him good?
Jim's bigger far than you."
Whereat with scorn that sturdy elf
Looked fixedly at me.
And straighaway he rid himself
Of this philosophy:
"He's biggrr'n me? Why, Papa Jack
Bigness don't count, I say.
My pony's swifter on a track
Than a cart horse any day;
Mv pouter pigeon has a throat
Beats any living thing,
Eut not one single little note
I've heard that pouter cing.
"The el'phant's big as any house,
And weighs about ten ton;
But could an el'phant catch a mouse
If mousie tried to run?"
Some more comparisons as pat
That small boy with a grin
Shot forth at me; and while I sat
My little wife came in.
Sbo only weighs a hundred pounds,
But when she saw my pride
In Willie's pugilistic rounds
Her voice rang high and wide.
Such scorn! such fire! I quickly fled,
Defeated, from the din.
And as I went that small boy said,
"Say, pa, does bigness win?"
v John O'Keefe.
J
Helen "So your sister Julia is mar
ried?" Herbert "Yes." Helen "Which
one of those men she used to make fun
of did she marry ?" Puck.
"Does Billy Billions get much fun
out of his automobile?" 'I don't be
lieve he does. I never hear of his be
ing arrested." Washington Star.
To mask as things of sentiment
Our ailments oft make bold;
We think we're melancholy when
We're merely taking cold.
Washington Star.
He "College graduates do not al
ways marry." She "Well, when a girl
has had a lot of money spent on her
education it makes her awfully par
ticular." Detroit Free Press.
Kwoter "There's no doubt about
that old saying about driving a horse
to water." Kidder "Yes, and although
a man may drive a pen, a pencil must
be lead." Philadelphia Press.
Nurse "You dreadful children, where
have you been?" Young Hopeful
"Oh, nursie, we've been trying to
drown those dear little ducks, but they
will come to the top." Punch.
"Will I hav a harp when I die an' go
to hevvun?" asked little Bobbie. "I
hope so," replied his mother. "Aw,"
said Bobbie, impatiently, "I'd rut her
hav' a drum." Ohio State Journal.
A woman's crowning glory, ,
In ancient song and story,
Was woman's wealth of hair; but that
Was loug ago. "lis now her hat.
Philadelphia Record.
"Did I understand you to say that
she lowered herself Avhen she married
him?" "Yes. She slid down from a
third-story window, using a rope made
of bedclothes." Chicago Record-Herald.
He "It isn't always safe to judge
by appearances, you know." She
Quite true. I once knew a young
man who wore a yachting cap and
who really owned a boat." Chicago
News.
"Can you make me a set of teeth
that will look natural?" asked the pa
tient. "My dear sir," replied the tooth
carpenter, "the teeth I make are so
natural they fairly ache." Chicago
News.
"Amy feels terribly about her new
dress. She knows it isn't a bit be
coming." "What makes her think so?"
"Why, several of her girl friends have
told her it looks perfectly sweet."
Philadelphia Bulletin.
"Harold, I must have your hair
shingled," observed the . fond mother,
as she curled the little fellow's golden
tresses. "Ain't my sailor hat a good
enuC roof?" asked the youngster in
nocently. Ohio Stat Journal,