Newspaper of The Democratic Advocate, June 14, 1873, Page 1

Newspaper of The Democratic Advocate dated June 14, 1873 Page 1
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$2 PER ANNUM. £elcd |3odru. JUNK. ■Y JAM ai'MCLL UIWRLL. And what laao rare aa a dajr lu June? Then, If Ycr, come perfect dajra: Then Heaven triea the earth If It lie in tune, And over It aofUy her warm ear lan: Whether we look, or whether we lUten. We hear life munnnr or aee It gllxtcn; Every clo<l feela a atlr of might, An Inatlnct within It that nrachoa and towera, And, graaplng blindly above It for light, i.limba to a tool In gram and flow era ; The tluah of life may well lie aecn Thrilling back over hilU and valleya; The cowilipatartlca In inetulow* green. The buttercup catchca the ann in Ita chalice An<* vlutc'h never a leaf or a blade too mean To bo aome happy creature* palace ; The little bird afbi at hla door in the aun. Atilt like a blowwim among the loaves, And let's hla Illumined being u'omin With the dcitige of summer it recelviw; Ilia mate feels the eggs beneath her wings. And the heart In herdumb breast flutters and Hingx; lie sings to the wide world, am! ahe to her nest.— In the nice ear of Nature which aong la the best? Braiielti[, ABOTIC EXPERIENCES. A WINTER IN A SNOW-HUT. A correspondent of the HaUimort Gazette re lates hi* experience in the nrtic regions, with Cspt. Tyson, of the whaling Schooner Era, and a crew of thirty men, wrecked in the fall of IK7, in Cumberland Sound. It was in the Npring of 1867 that we sailed from New Loudon, Connecticut, in the toenail schooner Era, bound for Re pulse Huy, a small estuary at the head of Hudson's Straits, and situated several degrees inside of the Arctic circle. The object of my voyage to the extreme North was purely one of adventure, that of my shipmates the capture of the Arctic whale for hia bone and blubber. Our vessel wan truly a staunch little cruft, and waa withal as graceful, as trim and taut-looking as a Now York yacht club cutter. On the wind she hud heels too; and when she put on her seven-league boots, and hauled her sheets flat aft, there were few of her sixe that would venture to compete with her. To have seen the pretty little thing under a full spread of canvas in a stiff breeze, running up the coast of Ijabrador and taking the full benefit of an easterly gale, would have gladdened the heart of the most fastidious yachtsman The Km made a fine run of it, and on the thirtieth day out we sighted the bleak cliffs of Resolution Island, and soon afterward, after a not very eventful voyage, entered Hudson’s Straits. 1 don't know that up to this time our trials at sea exceeded those commonly endured by all mariners. It Is true, however, that our supply of water had sadly diminished before we reached Cape Resolution, and visions of short allowance began to he somewhat alarming. Indeed, for cleansing purposes, fresh water was obliged to be tawed soon after we left port. Performing one's ablutions in the “briny deep” may be all very well at Long Branch, Newport or Cape May, and no doubt it is extremely healthful, but when you are compelled to bathe in it alone, day after day, its saline qualities become to be far from enjoyable, and fresh water, or, as the Spaniard more aptly expresses it, aqua dulee , begins to he a luxury that was before indifferently appreciated. The experience of those thirty days at sea also taught me that “a life on the ocean wave” was unquestionably intensely romantic in I a well furnished yacht, or when seated in a snug drawing-room at home with a charming voice to warble to you its poetic delights, hut associated with unceasing deluges of sea water, long night watches, salt junk and hard bread, the romance loses all of its charm, and becomes too much of a stern reality to he at all attrac tive. We had hardly entered the straits before we encountered immense fields of "pack ice,” sotting out toward the sea. propelled by a remarkably strong current, and it was with the greatest difficulty and after days and nights of arduous toil that we were enabled to overcome the obstruc tions and emerge into open water. Noth ing could bo more thoroughly novel, at the same time Lransccndantly beautiful, than the picture presented then to our view. Mammoth mountains of snow and iee, formations probably of centuries, met the eye at every point. One that we passed very close to, I recollect distinctly, it was a monster mass of glacial ice, tower ing, in all its sublime loftiness, far above our inaintopinasthead. while numberless rivulets poured incessant gushes of spark - Hug water in charming cascades down its terraced sides. The sun, warm indeed for that high latitude, shone with almost equatorial brilliancy npon the berg, which reflected its rays in a thousand gorgeous coruscations. The more I beheld this summer scenery of the Arctic, the more I became bewildered with its wild grandeur and wonderful beauty. That Northern land seemed to me to be stupendously majestic in its bold rucks snd yawning precipices; largo black headlands from which you gaxe down fearfully at the waters rising and beating against the rugged ramparts hundreds of feet beneath you; where plash waves emerald green, laboring against billows Unit arc as blue as sapphire, whilst from cliff to cliff the sea-birds never rest from flying, flapping their dripping wings in the bright spray snd sunlight, plaining piteously their discordant shrieks and adding to the scene a touch of wild ness that is strikingly impressive. Caves of rock and glacier abound —deep dark caverns that reverberate with charming distinctness the roar of the dashing sea. Clambering over rock and ice, far above the sea, passing from crag to crag, new glimpses of b*y and fiord, reach and promontory meet you at every turn —high rugged rocks, upon whoso ledges glistened with unsurpassed whiteness the everlasting snow. It was nature's intention that this should be a wild spot, but cveu in this vast solitude I discovered beauty that I least expected to witness, and as I skirted the shores oQ a bright day sometime after we had entered the Arctic Circle, 1 not unfreauently came upon a protected, se cluded locality amid the snow and ice where the reflected rays of the sun had formed a delightful miniature garden, green with mosses and shrubs, or what pass for such in the paucity of Arctic vegetation. After several weeks buffetting with head winds and encountering an almost in tmwhwble succession of fields of thick - ribbed ICC, wo reached our supposed j •destination toward the latter part of and came to anchor at the upper •end of Repulse Ray, in a cosy little har bor, which w found to be situated in latitude 69 degrees 26 minutes north, and longitude 86 dograas tl minutes west. It was on the day after my arrival in Re iwJse Bay that I was presented U) the late CmL C. F. Hall. Then when I entered Chyrfshi Hall's tupik, or seal skin tout, fdtehod on an Island not very far distant from mu anchorage, I discovered the explorer seated, cross-legged, on a deer 4kin mat, with an Esquimaux on one side, and a huge native dog at his feet. Capt. Hall's quarters presented U) me n more repulsive picture than any negro hut or Indian wigwam I had ever beheld. Captain Hall then told me that he fslt fully capable of enduring the utmost amount of banish ip. and accommodating £l)f Hcmocratic JViHunratc. ■ himself to the exigencies of the most loathsome life imaginable, arguing that the adaptation of the Caucasian to the habits of the Esquimaux, waa‘the only sure method to escape the groat Arctic curse, scurvy. I found a more agreeable and fully aa reliable preventive in constant exercise, and the excitement of the sport of harpooning, capturing and killing the | mammoth Polar whale. Perhaps the element of constant danger enhanced the charm of this peculiar avocation. Our stay in Repulse Bay was of short duration, in consequence, ns the comman der of the Era termed it, of the scarcity of blubber; and the Ist of Heptemhcr found us retracing our tortuous track through the pack ice of Hudson’s Straits, towards the open sea, where wo arrived after two weeks of incessant toil, and af ter having a much more dangerous and difficult passage than wo experienced a month previous. Reaching the open sea, the vessel waa headed northward, and on the sth of October, 1867 v we dropped an chor in the harbor of Nyantilick, a small inlet of Cumberland Gulf, and situated in latitude 69 degrees 15 minutes west. Our life was now almost exclusively spent in the open boats, and though it was an existence of uninterrupted toil, the hard ships as yet were comparatively light. We had long since discarded the clothes of tlie white man, and being provided with na tive garments, the suffering from the cold, which daily become more intense, was not so great. By the middle of October the ice commenced to form so rapidly that we were forced to relinquish the duty in the whale boats, just previous to which, how ever, we were fortunate enough to catch I think, the most enormous fish I ever saw. The monster was towed to the shore, and at high tide was hauled, by means of im mense tackles, far up on the rocks, and there at every ebb of the tide went through the almost interminable process of being peeled of his blubber, the natives and dogs (the latter we had brought from Hudson's Straits), disposed of the carcase. As soon as our operations in the open boats had ceased, our vessel was towed out of her harbor at Nyantilick and carried* about seven or eight miles out into the gulf, where she was moored stem and stern un der the lee of a small island bleak and barren as all of them were, which was called by the Esquimaux Umanockjuak. This removal was made in order that the ship might be more convenient to the scene of operations in the summer when the whaling was resumed, the ice breaking up at least a month sooner in the open gulf, would thus enable the vessel to move into open water, which could not have been accomplished had she remained in the close harbor of Nyantilick Under the lee of the island, then, the Era. the brig Isabella, and the schooner Quickstep first prepared i to go into winter quarters, on the sth of November, 1867. The ice all around us luid then become one solid mass, and was fully twelve or fourteen feet thick. No open water was visible as far ns the eye could reach out into the gulf, and wc were beginning to feel ourselves secure, having banished from our minds all thoughts of a thaw, or a gale from the southward strong enough to break down the barrier of ice that protected us. On the 9th, however, at midnight, the wind suddenly • hauled to the southward and westward, and commenced blowing frightfully. Early one morning coming on deck 1 saw at once that danger was imminent. At 1, A. M. it was blowing a lively gale, and the ice had already began to break up around the ship. The tremendous pressure of vast fields of heavy icc against the little vessel very soon caused her to part the heavy > port cable to which we had been riding with 60 fathoms of chain. The ship at once swung around, snapping her bow and stern lashing as though they were mere shreds of silk, and carrying away a portion of the upper works of the Isabella, which vessel we had run down. After sustaining no further injur)’ from the collision, the two vessels were lashed together, but hard Iv had this been accomplished, when it was discovered that a strong hawser, which now alone prevented the two ships from * dashing upon the rocks, and which was made fast around a ledge of rocks ashore, had chafed apart. We were in great peril, i and J hardly think there was a man among us who did not freely appreciate his dan ger. Volunteers were called for to secure i the hawser and refastcu it ashore. The i bland was fully five hundred yards distant, the ice was in motion all around us, the i night was as dark as Erebus, and those who offered their services knew well that what was to be done would he dangerous i in the extreme, and that it must be done i quickly and effectually. I was of the i party ; we had reached the shore and ac complished our task, and were rctunriug ' when wo were hailed from the ship to come abroad at once, as the ice was moving rap idly from around the vessel, and was car ; ryiug her out to sea, having parted again the hawser wo thought we had so thor ' oughly fastened. I think those five hun dred yards to the ship on that dreadful night were the most rapidly accomplished ; 1 ever traveled over in my life, and my feelings while on the moving icc, in the pitchy darkness, and the vessel notdiscern ; able through the driving sleet and snow, I > confess, were anything but pleasant.— i Luckily we stumbled over the parted haw ser. and following it from floe to floe, i reached the ship just in time to be pulled up over the side as she moved out into the bay, dragging her boat bower ami a hun dred fathoms of chain with her. The i Hcene on deck waa a moat appalling one. The confusion upon the decks of both ves -1 acla as they moved off from their moorings, lushed aide and aide, the dreary moaning of the wind through the rigging, the ; crashing noise of the breaking spars, the heavy booming of (he immense fields of > ice as they struck the sides of the ships, and inudu them quiver like aspens, the mournful bowlings of the poor dogs, plead ing piteously to be tukeu aboard from the ; Don ting masses of ice around us, the pierc ing screams of the natives ashore, who i thought that we were about to go to the 1 bottom, added to the hoarse yells of the officers issuing thoir orders, made np ns ■ perfect a picture of terror us could possi bly Jc imagined. Wc were adrift in the Ice pack, with rugged, nick-bound shores all around us, the sea running mountains high, and threatening destruction to every - 1 thing before It, Every man remained upon deck until It was seen (hat it was he ' yond the power of human skill to prevent the vessel from soon becoming n total wreck, when, thoroughly resigned to our fate, we wont below and waited, with a strange but awftil feeling, the dread mo ment when wc were to he consigned to an A relic grave. All that night the twoves asls drifted together, amid immense masses of ie, Ibrongl) narrow inlets, among myr iads of islets, and around numberless monster bergs, but “the finger of God Was upon ns,” and we were saved ! Miracu lously, the remaining fluke of the heavy anchor wc hail been dragging became cn -1 tangled in a ledge of rocks at the bottom - of a narrow fiord into which wo had drifted towards the close of tho second day after our breaking out. In a few days wo were back again in our old quartern, and frosen ; in as tight and . securely, apparently, as WESTMINSTER, MD. SATURDAY, JUNE 14, 1873. over, and though wo had in the short weeks that were to come, previous to our great disaster, many similar experiences, none equalled the terror inspired by the events of the night of the 9th of Novem ber, 1867. By the 6th of December we thought we had fairly settled down in our quarters for the long winter. The top masts had boon housed, and surplus stores sieded ashore and niched, the main deck had been completely planked over; the scuttles of the cabin and forecaatle com panion-waya had been rendered impervious to the weather by a covering of snow blocks, with a tortuous passage similar to the approaches to an Esquimaux ice-hut, and everything aboard ship seemed to wear an air of comparative comfort. But on the night of the 6th a violent gale act in from the south, which raged with unin terrupted fury for fotfr days, and though wc had taken every precaution to prevent the ship from being carried out to sea again, the immense ]>owcr of the “pock ice” im pelled by the driving gale, became at length irresistakle, and once more the two vessels, lashed side by side, began drifting rudderless amid the huge bergs and dangerous reefs of Cumberland Inlet. In this sad plight, utterly powerless to remedy our situation, wc remained fur four long days, every moment expecting the little vessel to be dashed to atoms upon some sharp-pointed reef, or split asunder by violent collisions with the monster fields of heavy iee which came rapidly driving in upon us. It was toward midnight on the 10th that the gale shifted to the north ward, and tho brig to which wc had been lashed after smashing our davits, and car rying away all of the small boats on that side, and staving in our port bulwarks, parted company with us. and hoisting sail ran upon the rocks at Umanockjuak, where she soon went to pieces. The wind had hardly settled well from the north before the pock icc was down upon us, and began rapidly piling itself up in huge incongru ous masses against the sides of the ship, lifting her bodily high and dry out of the sea, with her stern at an angle of fully forty-five degrees with her stem. In this condition, in the centre of an enormous pack, and driven by a terrific storm, the Era moved out for the last time towards the broad ocean. When daylight appeared i it was found that “the pack had been forced in between two very large bergs that bad grounded, and there we felt safely and i securely wedged, at least until tho next i southerly storm. By a meridian altitude : observation wc discoverd that wc had drifted 20 miles from our old anchorage. ' and os the great bulk of our stores was at Umanockjuak. and our supply of fresh > water ice was nearly exhausted, it was determined on tho night of the 12th of , December to abandon the ship and make our way to the land. Thiswasouronlyaltenia live, for it was thought absolutely certain 1 that in the next gale from the southward i the ship would either go to pieces in the 1 heavy ice that surrounded her, or be car -1 ried out to sea without water or provisions. It was indeed a fearful expedient to throw : ourselves upon an ice-bound coast, with no shelter, but a scanty share of provisions, i and in a country where tho thermometer ' ranged during eight months from 30 to , 70 below icro. At three o'clock in the morning we were called up and started 1 with our sleds, packed with clothing, pro visions and bedding, for tho shore, distant about two leagues from the ship. Hardly a word was spoken, and even the officers ' gave their orders in subdued voices, for 1 sad euouglt wc all were as wc pursued our mournful tramp over huge hummocks of I icc. and through deep snow, with the wind piercing througli our furs at every blast. ; Arriving after almost incredible difficulty at the foot of one of those monster pro montories whose bleak and hoary heads rise abrubtiy from tho sea. and whoso bold i outlines mark the landscape with such startling distinctness, wo deposited our ; load of valuables and selected the spot where we wore to make our home for many long dreary months. I then experi i euced not the forlornncss of my situation as a shipwrecked voyager, hut a feeling of uuraptured awe overcame mo at the thought I that I waa in the midst of a wild and trackleas waste, surrounded by scenery at whose desolate grandeur I was forced to ; stand aghast. If there were not actual peril in my position—thus alone and to a certain extent eompanionless—there was that amount of adventure that summons a man's courage to its post, and tolls him that he must look to his own safely; and who that lias felt this sensation, this proud sense of self-dependence, does not know its ccstacy? Fortunately for us, the weather became milder soon after aban doning the vessel, which enabled us to sled everything of value to quarters which we had established ashore, where wc had improvised a house from the ship's main sail and foresail. Our tent we rendered comparatively comfortable by covering it, in native fashion, with huge blocks of snow. The natives, soon after our arrival ashore, came down from above, and ma terially assisted us in constructing our house, besides keeping us constantly pro vided with fresh seal and bear meat. They built their eglows or icehouses around us, forming when completed quite a colony, which they formally christened with the uncouth cognomen of Quakjug. With the Esquimaux, or Innuils, as they call themselves, we remained seven dreary, monotonous months, and had both ample time and opportunity to study their charac ter and habits. But, as so much has been written by fur abler pens regarding the natives of the fsr North than mine, X will confine myself simply to a few cursory remarks and sketched of Innuit life as I saw it. The natives we met at Quakjug were finer specimens of humanity, if any can he ao denominated where all an l dwarfed stunted beings, than those we mot at the head-waters of Hudson’s Bay. The men were not muscularly strong, but there were no drones among them, and they accomplished a great deal in their own peculiar way of working. Tho women were all remarkably apt, in many respects superior to the men, and ail that I saw were infinitely more intelligent. I did not aee one finely formed man, and but one pretty face among the women, and tills was a little girl not over ten years of ago. Tha old women wore absolutely hideous, and 1 do not doubt bat that -Meg Mcrrillcs, with her fiendish features dis torted by the most violent passion, would have been au actual Hebe to most of the Inmjit old wives whom I saw. The Esqui maux ala nde, notwithstanding their e cesaive filthiness, are a healthy race, and are naturally a gentle people, driven as they are by the relentless need snd severity of their lives into close and peaceful com panionship. They have no broad, no medicine, no household furniture, bat of tho rudest description, snd have no help or resource but in the seal, tho boar and the walrus, from whom they have learned how to shelter themselves, whose skins cover them, and whoso unctuous flesh provides them with both final snd fuel. I hey are, indeed, poor human waifs upon tho wild white booom of this frigid region. Attracted one day by the deep sonorous murmuring! of their chant, whiili is the main feature in thoir ritoal or anew/, and which renders tile ceremony to the ear of a civilized being anything but nautical, I entered the eglow from which the sounds proceeded. I there diaooverod the old men and women deeply abeurbed in the performance of some unholy rite over the Demon of a nick Innuit—a young girl. The low monotonous chanting* of the aavages, occasionally broken by the sup pressed sobs and moaning of the poor creature in her pain, the grim swarthy faces of the old wives, spectrally illumina ted by the fitful gleams from the stone lamps, together with the continuous oaeilla tiona of their dark bodies swaying awk wardly to and fro in time to the rude intonations of their barbarous song, made up a scene us wild and unearthly as any 1 have ever beheld. The Innuita’ idea of heaven is the same happy hunting-ground which has universal credence among the aboriginoes of the States, and like them they always bury their dead fully equipped and provisioned for the savage elysmm. The infernal regions was pictured to me by an old squaw as a place not of everlasting lire, but down ever so far beneath the surface of the earth, where the heat was very great, in fact, almost insufferable, and where noxious insects in myriads u|>on myriads preyed upon the unlucky damned of the Ksquimaux. I amused myself with the reflection that, as far as the vermin are concerned, the Inuuits* home on earth was about as near an approach to the torments of an Ksquimaux hell as one could well conceive, and I doubted very much whether the hardened old sinner after a long life in his arctic home, would be very much annoyad by the punishment inflicted by bis creeping friends in the lower regions. When wo had been con fined about two months to our eglows at Quakjng, we were honored with a visit from Ug jack, chief of all the Innuita in Cumberland Gulf. He came down to us from the northward, ostensibly to pay us a visit of state, but in reality to obtain a supply of whiskey and tobacco. There was no distinctive feature about Ug jack to distinguish him from any of his race. I had the distinguished honor of being presented to him, when we smoked and chatted quite freely. Ksquimaux royalty rather gained the ascendancy in that Me a tele, for its representative both out-talked, out-smoked and out-drunk me. I must confess, even before his Majesty became drunk, that I was not impressed with the regality of his remarks. His ideas were anything but princely, nor did his address manifest that degree of confidence which the consciousness of supremacy always cx , Mbits, even as evinced in the lofty hearing and extreme liaughtiness of a petty Co manche brave. 1 had thought that up to the tit h of March I had experienced the utmost ex ■ tremity of Arctic cold, but I think we far ■ exceeded all former frigid sufferings and trials. The wind commenced blowing a violent gale from the northwest about day light, soon after which our mercury ther mometer passed the 50th .degree below xero, and formed a solid mass in the bulb. Our spirit instrument graduated for a • much greater fall, gradually dropped after the gale set in, and reached at noon the • fearfully unprecedented figure of 72 dc i grecs below zero, actually 104 degrees from the freezing point. With a very small house unusually tight and imper vious to the weather, in which was crowded thirty-two persons, enveloped in furs and wrapped in the heaviest Mackinaw blank ets, and with two roaring coal fires, kept burning constantly, it was impossible to ’ preserve eVcn the natural warmth of the body, and several were badly frozen in passing a few feet from the snow houses to the galley through a passage only six feet long. Indeed, one of the severest trials we were called upon to sustain, was, i beyond a doubt, the sufferings from the severe climate, and nothing more distinct ly marked the extremity of the cold than the singularly strange transformations that were wrought in various articles of ship stores. Potatoes assumed the appearance and were as brittle as paving stones; but ter and lard suggested veracious recollec tions of Irish and Carracca marbles, and a slab ol yellow pine was so thoroughly in fused with frost that, when dropped upon the ice it gave out a ring os clear ns solid steel. This extreme temperature, with the darkness and gloom of a tong winter, told frightfully upon our health and spirits. In course of time our faces assumed a livid paleness, like plants growing in dark ness. We became moody ahd dreamy, and a strange apathy pervaded all. This uninterrupted cold compelled constant con finement to the narrow limits of our house, and the lack of exercise and the monoto nous diet soon brought the scurvy in our midst, and before the dread curse left us many a poor follow was consigned to an icy grave. In March we just began to see the beginning of the end of a long dreary season of frigid agony. . The southerly gales became more frequent, and the ice grew weaker and weaker day by day. The sun had not yet made his appearance, and the eye was wearied with the everlasting vista of snow and ice. Before us towered hundreds of monster bergs, and field upon field of huge hummocks stretched far away in the dim distance a vast eternity of frosen water heaped in strange incongruous masses and illuminated only by the fitful flashes of the Aurora Borealis. In April we emerged from the season of darkness—the long Polar night—during which the near est approach to daylight was a dim twi light, with now and then a rosy streak blooming upon the belt of snow which stretched away in the far southern horison. The clouds became daily flushed with a deeper tint of pink, and the sun's rays shot up from the verge each day more brilliantly, until at hut he appeared in all his grandeur, to gladden us once more. The whole landscape, then suffused with a coloring warmer than the warmest tints of an Italian sky, while the purple line of the Polar night fringed the picture. Day after day the sun rose higher and higher, and seemed to roll listlessly along the horizon until it sank to rest behind the glaciers. At the season advanced, and lime ap proached for the arrival of succor, the days seemed to tag with persistent tardiness. To all, this inactivity was almost insuffer ble, but to our gallant commander it was real torture. Finally, as the ice became weaker and weaker, and the prospect of an carl}' gale from the south more certain, Tjtsor concludw) to riah all, and rc-cmbark with hjs men and provisions aboard of the Kra, and save or lose all. The perilous undertaking was no sooner thought of than it was accomplished, and once more the

intrepid Captain, with his little band aboard of his ship, awaited a battle with the ice and sea. The storm came, but what at first threatened to be our destruction, in the cud proved our salvation. The mon ster icebergs, between which the vessel had been forced, served as a barrier against the vast fields of ice which the gale hurled in upon us, and ground to powder against its sides. Thus we lay for weeks while the pack ice outside of us was going through a grand coffee-mill process, when finally onr glacial protector*, with a terrific noise, toppled over into the sea, and the Kr* onoe more floated safely into blue water. By the middle of July we had fairly com menced the Polar day—the season of con stant sunshine, and I shall never forget the impression made upon my mind a* I wit nessed the transcendent beauties of Arctic scenery for the last time illumined by the midnight sun as wc sailed out of Cum berland Gulf, homeward hound, leaving, I hope forever, a land where the voyager is constantly surrounded by the most over whelming gradeur, by the sublimest mani festations of nature, by the most gorgeous and majestic optical illusions, aud by the most repulsive facts of daily existence. The comparatively few days subsequent to our arrival in the United States, the monotony of the voyage became absolutely unbearable. The same green water, the same white sails, the same tall masts, the same anxious faces, and one lias the whole vista before him. Not even a strange sail greeted our gaze shoreward, and all of us became dull, morose and unsociable, dis satisfied with our associates, and equally so I with ourselves. Such a deplorable socia ble condition is the inevitable state to which a protracted voyage at sea always tends, iot withal, when men have braved together the ice and everlasting snows of the Arctic, have been wind-beaten and drenched by the same storm, and stood upon the deck of the same frail little bark, with only a plank between them and eter nity, there is a feeling of friendship which springs up between them that is difficult for one inexperienced to understand. There were a number of whole souled, noble-heorted and brave fellows aboard of the schooner Kra, not the least of whom was her captain, and I am unwilling to believe that these emotions of kindness are unknown to their hearts. Rattlesnakes. Serpents liave always had a sort of hor rible fascination for the sons of Kve, and naturally there has been much romancing about their habits, especially the habits of , the more venomous kinds. Most readers, then, will be surprised at some statements which they may read in the “Scientific Miscellany ' of the Onlaxy, where a Mr, . Morley, chief surveyor of some railroads [ in Colorado and New Mexico, sets down some of the results of his observation of i these reptiles, and corrects several popular delusions in regard to them while coufirm , ing some articles of the popular faith. The tales which one may hear among the , southern negroes about the rattlesnake’s , ability to launch itself through the air to a , distance of twice its length. Mr. Morley i has never found verified in the course of . his experience with many hundred snakes: , “It throws itself forward about tfarec ’ fourths of its length, supporting its weight entirely upou the remaining fourth. In f order to strike, it must lie in a coil, with . its head and neck erect.’’ Its venom is r not, ns has been universally asserted, in | jeclcd into the wound through a hollow I fang; the fangs are hollow for a part of their length, but the tip is never pierced; . j "the polsousac, the position of which may r i bo roughly indicated by comparing it to a I gum boil, is in such relation with the base L of (he fang that, when the animal strikes, r pressure is exerted upon the sac, which . causes a drop of venom to run down onl . tide the tooth into the puncture." Thus j it happens that rattlesnakes’ bites are r sometimes harmless when the creature . 1 attemps to strike through cloth, the poison 1 being absorbed by the material. As for I the rattle, it is of little value as a warning, for the striking is almost simultaneous t with the sound, and is done with electric , quickness—sometimes is done twice, con trary to the opinion that venomous , snakes do not bite twice in immediate , succession. But if the warning is of little ; value, the bite on the other hand, is ; reported by Mr. Morley to be much loss dangerous than he supposed. Of thirty . persons whom he has known to have been . bitten, all recovered except one. and he , lived twelve days after the accident. This I one. by the bye, was the only one of the , party who had surgical aid. The beat cure , for the bite, Mr. Morley says, confirming . the popular belief, is to make the patient drink whiskey enough to make him drunk ; , and he further says that much more . whiskey is required to produce this effect i than if the person drinking bad not been i bitten. This specific, for such it may ! almost confidently be called, is also in use in the South, and sometimes really im mense doses arc tolerated. The peculiarly , offensive odor of these snakes is vouched . for by Mr. Morley, who says that if “one , is irritated to kill him, the implement will , retain the same unpleasant odor for , months.’ One more error he corrects by saying that he has frequently killed the . rattlesnake at an elevation of about 8,000 . feet, although all writer* on the subject , say that he never is found at a greater i height above the sea-level than 0,000 feet. , These mountain snakes arc said to be more r venomous than their brethren of the low lands, but this may he a mere conjecture based on the highland snake's greater , vividness of color. Nervous readers may be pleased to hear that the part of the . United .States where rattlesnakes are I most numerous is the strip of land, sixty i or seventy miles wide, between the Rio . Grande and the Neuccs, in Texas, which i swarms with them : “One cannot go fifty i yards without seeing a rattlesnake." Moc caaons, centipedes, tarantulas, and scorpions are other inhabitants of this region. Working Women.—Mr. C. C. Ful . ton, editor of the American, in one of bis lettecs from Berlin, thus describes the German women: “ German women are undoubtedly able to do a man s work, and some of them do more in that line than most men arc will ing to. The very hardest species of man ual labor is spading ground and turning over the sod. In the Park to-day wc passed neatly fifty women, all strong and muscu • lar, busily driving their spades into the earth. They wonted in gangs of five, side by side, apparently as contented as if they were piercings cambric handkerchief with a needle. When women can perform this kind of labor they arc certainly on an equality with man in some things if not in all, and need no protectors. Only think of marrying a woman who can dig all day with a spade ! It would not do tor most of the lords of creation to have such wives, or at least to provoke them to a trial of strength. Near the close of the first day qf a great meeting of hardshell baptists, in Georgia, the local preacher said, alluding to the Utepting to bo held next day: “I hope that the congregation will be here by ten o'clock, for precisely at that hour we will march to the creek, where I shall proceed to baptize four adults and six adulteresses." “Jamt*." said a young wife to her husband a few days after marriage, “ y ero honest enough to tell tqe that the chimney smoked, but tfhy didn't yog tell me that yon supped yourself,” Happiness la so Independent of external eircuinsUinooe, that to consider it as being invariably connected with the pomp aud parade of wealth or power is entirety falla cious. Powdered hair is sgiio in fashion. Blonde and white are the favorite stvii*. EARLY MORNING. BY AlJgi'A. Bara of uuld through the eaau.*i u window , Shine high up on the western wall; And without in the maple branches Bluebird* answer the robin*' caU- Mist* of night upeed over the hill-tops, . Hasting hence when their work is done, And smoke of engines down the .valley laooks like silver foam in the sun. . Fresh and fair and bright is the morning, } Clear and blue is the spring-time sky, j And those white doves on wing I fancy Offering praises as they fly. As the mists and the birds fly unward, , Bo our hearts on the wings or praise Kise to the loving and watchful rather ‘ Blessing us now with sweet spring <Uy. [ t dfarmrr. 1 Milk Setting. ’ Mw/re e Rural A T etr Yorker says au t earnest controversy has been going on for t 801110 time among butter-makers as to whether the most butter can bo made by deep or shallow setting of the milk. We p have the result of several experiments, , and some of them so loosely mode as to he a nearly worthless as evidence in favor of s either system. We suppose that all bet ter-makers must be glad to get light on this question, and wc therefore print the following statement made by Hon. F. D. Douglass, of Whiting, in a recent address before the Vermont Board of Agriculture. J From Mr. Douglass's imputation as a but g tcr-muker and a careful experimenter, c his statement is of more than ordinary , interest. s He says ;—You will doubtless ask c whether ss much butter can be obtained . from deep as from shallow setting? I s answer emphatically—Yos, where the b right temperature is maintained. What ,f ever doubt may arise in the minds of any ,r upon this subject, with regard to remits i- when the weather ia cool and moat fmvora i. ble for the success of shallow setting, there 0 can bo no doubt with regard to this point s for the entire season, and most certainly , not during’wsrm weather. I have expert y mented upon this subject, not so much to ,f satisfy the public with regard to it as i; myself, and consequently some of my experiments have not been conducted with ,t that nice accuracy of detail, and the „ results so carefully recorded, os they would (, have been hsd they been designed for the ,s public eye. I will, however, give you the i- details of one of these experiments which g was the most carefully conduct, that you ,f may understand upon what grounds i hose 1 my conclusions in this matter, and if yon y discover defects in any of the conditions a np°n which this experiment was conducted. e I trust yon will freely point them out. I, On the 17th day of June, 1871, I |, divided the doy's milk of my entire daily, then consisting of twenty-two costs, into s two equal parts. The amount .given by e each oow was weighed and accurately di c vided by weight immediately after being n drawn from the cow. One-half was strained ir into common pans, which were filled about . two-thirds full, and placed upon shelves in is the milk room. The other half was placed c in pails to the depth of abont eleven aud i. one-half inches. These were set in vats of s water in the same room, and the tempera c turc reduced to 60°, which was the same e ss the air in the room at that time. They a were allowed to stand until the milk in is each had become thoroughly loppered, and y it was evident that no more cream would n rise. The milk in the pans reached that e point and was skimmed in forty-eight s hours ; that in the pails s(pod twelve hours e longer. The range of the thermometer in e the room was from Go° to 63°, until the ir last twelve hours, when it ruse to 68°. t The thermometer indicated the same range ; of temperature in the milk in the pails as c in the air, except that it did not rise so •t high by two or three degrees during the n last twelve hours. The rise spoken of y could not have affected the result, os the c pans had already been skimmed, and the i. cream had doubtless all risen in the pails, y The weight of cream produced from the j paus was 28) pounds ; from the pails 33) e pounds. This was all churned June 22, || each at the same temperature, Go°, and in r the same churn. Kach was washed in y precisely the same manner, and taken from b the churn into the same butter bowl and Q carefully weighed. The scales used were •t Howe’s platform scales, nearly new and in r good order, but would not indicate a dif ference of less than one-fourth of a pound, B and by them there was no difference indi ■- cated in the weight of the two batches, e each weighing twelve pounds before the r salt was added. The difference in the y weight of the cream is easily accounted c for, there having been an evaporation from B the pans amounting to five pounds in v weight more than from the pails, caused 0 by the greater extent of surface exposed. |i It will be seen that this experiment was v conducted under meet favorable circum . stances for the success of the shallow set- H ting. The result will be different when ever the temperature of the room rises much above or falls below Ro°, and is re . lied on to temper the milk in the pans, b while the milk in the pails is tempered b rightly by artificial means. It will be readily seen that the amount produced by g the pails will be greater than that from 3 the pans just in proportion as the degree . of heat or cold in the room rises above or . falls below a right mean. It is upon this , and other like experiments, with the gen -1 end fact of the increased production of . my dairy cows since its adoption (deep g setting,) that I base my conclusions in this . matter. f . The advocates of deep setting, so far aa , we are informed, have never claimed that , more butter could be made from deep set , ting, when both samples of milk are kept , at the same range of temperature; but the ; advocates of shallow setting claim that will produce more batter than I l the other. This experiment of Mr. Doug , lass seems to be fairly wade, and If, as he I says, his other experiments point in the same direction, he hot good and sufficient reasons for bis conclusions, since, by the deep setting, a more even temperature is maintained than in the open air, while the ' labor involved it lew with the deep than ' with the shallow settings. | Over 20,000 quarts of milk are daihf condensed in the cantons of St, Gall .°a | ■ Fricburg, Switzerland. M>t of this goes to the London market. r way V> raise young turkeys ia to ’ keep off the ground until they are about six weeks old; feed them wheat bread, soaked in buttermilk or sweet milk. 1 | To prevent feather plucking, it is re , i commended to give fowls dry corn fodder. 1 j Those who have done so my it is a sure : preventive of this practice. I Unlike heavily timbered countries the Kansu prairie lias more springs after eul- I tivation than in the wild VOL. VIII.-NO. 31. PlMter—Hew and Wken to Vie It. | The follow furnished to t lulmim't Kuril! World by Prof. Joseph Luce; Plaster a* a Fertilizer— Amoug the manufactured products which ought to be employed by the farmers in the begin ning of the year as a fertilising agent we will place the common planter It* appli cations are numerous, and the modes of applying vary according to the mixtures of the crop. Plaster is a compound salt or lime and sulphuric acid, known under the name of gypaum, nr sulphate of lime; its composi tion when pure it, sulphuric acid 43, lime 33, water 34. There are often variations in the formula of commercial plaster, due to the calcination and the presence of foreign matter, such as silica and carbonate of lime , but none can he injurious in its ap plication at a fertiliser. There are five com monly cultivated crops which contain gyp sum in sensible proportion ; they are: Lu cero , sainfoin, red clover, rye grass, turnips; but its transformation by absorption of ammonia enables its constituents to become the food of other varieties of crops, such as wheat, barley, outs, beans, peas and vines. 1 Professor Liebig contends that the nature of gypsum consists in giving a fixed > constitution to the nitrogen, or ammonia. ! which it brought into the toil, and is in > dispensable for the nutrition of plants. He , tayt that “100 pounds of gypsum gives as - much ammonia as 6,250 pounds of horse's urine would yield ; four pounds of gypsum - increase the produce of meadows 100 lbs," i Grasses and Red Clover—After 1 seeding when the frost leaves the ground . in the earlier part of the spring (April,) • *e ought to sow plaster on the soil, about 100 pounds to the acre. When grass or - clover arc one, two, or more years old, aow ’> the same quantity per acre ; when the f plant ia three to four inches high, and, if poosible. during wet weather, t Wheat.—Upon winter wheat there 1 should be a top dressing of about fifty lbs. 1 to the acre in the fall when it comes up, b and another like dressing after it has ■ Started in the spring. In cases where it 1 has been affected by the severity of the s winter, and especially in all cases where it ■ is uneven in growth, with spots nearly b killed out, a larger application should be t made, fall one hundred pounds to the acre, I and making even a more liberal tpplica - tion than that to the poor spots. The ef -0 feet will appear marvelous. Upon spring s wheat it should be sown after it is well 1 up—about one hundred pounds to the acre, s Oats, Barley and Rye.—Upon oata, B barley and rye, the application should be 1 the same as upon spring wheat, after they b are well up, and about one hundred pounds i to the acre. 1 Potatoes.—l 'pou potatoes plaster i should be sown upon the hill soon after b the plants are up, same us upon com, t about a tablespuonful or more to the hill, s scattered upon the leaves as much as pos . sible, and then should hare at least one more liberal dressing upon the vines after I hoeing, and when well advanced in growth. , Coen. —Various upinionsare entertained i by fanners as to the best mode of applica f tion of plaster to com; of the benefits • resulting from its nse there is no donbt. 1 A Noticeable Fact lor Dairymen. t , The correspondent of the hlrr Ocean | writes from Utica, N. Y„ after visiting the 1 daily districts in Oneida county, aa follows: f “ The delivery of milk is greatly inferior . to that of this date a year ago. Even the • calves seem to have postponed their com j ing to wait for warmer skies, and this i would point to a change of time, on the i part of the farmers, in the association of 1 their breeding atock. Whatever this t change may signify, there is apparently a t great decrease In the prevalence of an evil i which, a few years ago, seemed to portend i the ruin of the dairy business in this re . giou. The percentage of abortions among , the cows is much reduced in the record of 9 this spring. The general belief is that the s malady was not caused by organic diaar , rangement nor by the presence of the . frightful animalculse or poisonous sub f stances which quati doctors have conjured ■ p for their profit, but was the result of an 9 overtaxation of the powers of the iiupreg . nating animal, or by the employment of s those too yonng for service. The disap- I pearance of she evil is a fact of much . value, and the farmers congratulate them i selves upon it i But the less delivery of milk at the fac , toriea cannot be wholly attributed to the | backwardness of the season or the animals. > I was struck by the decreasing of the herds i as I listened to a number of dairymen re . lating their plans for the coming season. , Almost all gave in a less number of cows, . and spoke of preparing still more for the , butcher. The importation of Canadian , cows, once prevalent, has almost disap i peared this spring, and many farmers are I seriously thinking of throwing up their i stock altogether. The favorite scheme with such is the raising hay for bailing and shipment, which just now promises good profits. The great care, anxiety and vex i ation consequent upon stock-breeding and the care of the animals seems to drive many to the mowing machine and the hay press. All these considerations point to a reduced production of cheese in this region. Even if the same numbers of cows were kept up, it would hardly be safe to expect so good a yield as last year exhibited, and the indications which I have noted most decrease it. Such t condition would, how ever. create a better demand for the yield of newer sections.” CEtue of the Potato Hot By invitation from Lyman Reed, Ksq. •ays the Nine Kw/laui farmer, we re cently witnessed his microscopic exhibition of the insects or mites which he believes are the cause of the potato rot. There can be no doubt that the microscope re veals a multitude of living creatures tum bling about among the tissues of the bits of potatoes submitted to examination. To our eye they have much the appearance of sugar, mites. They appear to be well fed, and to enjoy life as well as their more bulky follow-beings. Wc also saw very distinctly what is supposed to he their eggs, as well os diminutive specimens of those just batched—the real baby mites. These insects are not found in the soft portion of diseased potatoes; hut Mr. Reed is confident that his extended observations and experiments prove that these insects, or those hatched from egg* in the skin of tha potato when planted, poison and de stroy the roots, canning premature decay and death of the vines. The scale hark lousc blights and destroys the tree on the dip ha of which It congregate* in multi tudes that no man can number. It ia pos sible that these potato mites affect the plant in a somewhat similar manner. Bat being prejudiced in favor of the theory of the fungoid origin of the potato disease, neither Mr. Reed’s arguments, aor his ex hibition of these mites, satisfied ua that his theory is the true explanation of the origin of the potato rot. But, bp U) aa W-ei ■£ .11 wha... --I. it convenient to do so, call on him to see, Pearl-Fishing in Vermont. * The pearl-producing, fresh-water claip or mussel, is found in some Western ” streams, though few pearls have yet been J discovered in them. It seems that fresh water pearls are found most abundantly in B the Winooski river in Vermont, not far ■ from its source, and in its small trihula * ries. Within a few years much attention 1 has been given to hunting them, and vast v quantities of the molluscs have been de* !. froyed by the merciless pearl-hunters, yet * they ore still found ia great numbers. Pearls are more frequently found in B clams that live on stony or gravelly bot -1 toms, as a grew of sand or some small 6 foreign subatancc that has entered the ' shell forms the nucleus around which the : layers of pearl arc made, taking an un known number of years to form even a small pearl. Sometimes they are taken ■ from river-beds of clay and mud. It is ' said clams must be seven years oh! before I they begin to form a pearl. 1 The clams move slowly from place to - place, crawling edgewise, leaving a groovc ’ “be 'rack. The small end of the clam ■ sticks in the bottom of the stream with j the large end out and open, out of this a 1 portion of the animal protrudes, but at the > least disturbance withdraws, and the shell close* so tight it can not be opened with ' out being cut at both ends. When open, 1 th Iri 'f any, is at once seen in the ’ small end, imbedded in the “flap.” | The instruments necessary for “pearl hunting" as it is commonly called, are an J iron rod, flattened at one end, with barbs 1 cut in it to draw ont the clams, a handled I basket to carry thorn in, a stoat knife to 1 open the shells, and a box of fine cotton in r which to put the pearls. 1 Sometimes the fisherman wears high I robber boota. oftener he wades into the 1 river with bare feet and his breeches rolled high, with his basket on arm and 1 spear in hand. He thruals his spear into L any open shell he may see on the bottom. . which immediately closes, when he pull* ‘ if out, puts it in his basket, and looks for ‘ another, W r hen satisfied with the number 8 he has got, he carries them to the bank, _ where he sits down and opens them. The I experienced hunter can usually tell before B opening if there is a pearl inside, as only ■ the deformed shells contain one. Often * thousands of shells are opened and the in mates destroyed without obtaining a single poarl of value. Sometimes brownish ones, lustreless, and of no value are found. The ! ‘ while and rose-colored ones alone have the l ' beautiful light and desirable lustre. e Probably more depends upon luck than f ■kill. C. H. Stevens. Esq., of East Mont 8 feller, is one of the most successful pearl-fishers of that region, and the one r who some years ago found the largest pearl r that has been discovered in the United > States. He says: “The hugest pearl I * found was in two feet of water where it ran swift. It was in the first shell I took e out, and I could see the place close to it r where some one else had token out another. , The pearl is iof an inch in diameter, round aa a ball, and of fine lustre. It is now owned by a gentleman in New York, who s values it among the thousands. It was nearly in the middle of the clam by the i hinge, the only one I ever heard of being ; found there." t For successful hunting a still day is . necessary, as a small ripple on deep water * will hide the clams. In shallow water it r ia not ao important. , I'pon such a day, during a “pearl-fever," . it is not uncommon to see numbers of , men and boys, and sometimes women, , standing in the Winooski gathering the ■ clams, or seated on the bank openingthem. , In warm weather sometimes, such num k hers of clams are destroyed that the air is I tainted with their decay for a long distance. I’ • Expanding the Chest. 5 , f lake a strong rope, and fatten it to a 0 beam overhead ; to the lower end of the , rope attach a stick three feet long, conve -5 nient to grasp with the hands. The rope - should be fastened to the centre of the | stick, which should hang six or eight in , ches above the head. Let a person grasp . this stick with the hands two or three feet r apart, and swing veiy moderately at first —perhaps only bear the weight, if very weak—and gradually increiae, as the mus cles gain strength from the exercise, until it may be used from three to five times . daily. The connection of the arms with , the body, with the exception of the clavi cle with the breastbone, being a muscular attachment to the ribs, the effect of this exercise is to elevate the ribs and enlarge the chest; and os Nature allows no vacnam, the lungs expand to fill the cavity, in creasing the volume of aiy, the natural purifier of blood, and preventing the con gestion or the deposit of tuberculous mat ter. We have prescribed the above for all coses of hemorrhage of the lungs and threatened consumption for thirty-five years, and have been able to increase the measure of the chest from two to four in ches within a few months, and with good results. But especially as a preventive we wonld recommend this exercise. Let those who love to live cultivate a well formed, capacious chest. The student, the merchant, the sedentary, the young of both sexes—ay, all—should have a swing on which to stretch themselves daily. Wc arc certain that if this were to be practic ed by the rising generation in a dress al lowing a free and full development of the body, many would be saved from consump tion. Independently of ite beneficial re sults, the exercise isau exceedingly pleasant one, and as the apparatus costs very little, there need be no difficulty about any one enjoying it who wishes to. —IHo Leirit. The Chinese take a carious method to prevent their pigeons from being attacked by bird* of prey while circling over the cities or moving from place to place. Thk consists in the employment of small short cylinder or reed pipes, in groups of three or four or more. These ore attached to the back of the bird, and so adjusted that as it flies through the air a very sharp sound is produced. Varying lengths of the bamboo give variety of tones to this . instrument; and when a large number of birds are flying together ia a flock, os in ' very frequently the case, the round pro- Sneed by them is distinctly audible for a ' great distance. It is said that rapacious birds are effectively repelled hj this pre -1 caution, ao that the pigeons make their flights with perfect safety from one point ' to another. A Cvee you Hard Times. —He in dustrious and live within your saws us and ’ there will not be much octal vf sump bint , about hard times, nor much necessity for , borrowing money, * , ■j.sC's-t'i By united ofect. the theorist aad liu ’ practical ie may accomplish >ueh which. . licit he* could effect alone. , ■ t The great secret of success in life, is for r * man ready when the opportonitjr 5

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