THE ROOSEVELT FAMILY IN THE ADIRONDACKS--THE PAN-AMERICAN EXPOSITION AT
BUFFALO--SHOOTING OF PRESIDENT MCKINLEY--THE VICE-PRESIDENT'S
VISIT--DEATH OF THE PRESIDENT
Theodore Roosevelt's companions of the hunt remained with him for
fourteen days, after which they departed, leaving him with Goff, the
ranchman and hunter already mentioned.
When the pair were alone, they visited Juniper Mountain, said to be a
great ground for cougars and bob-cats, and there hunted with great
success. All together the trip of five weeks' hunting netted fourteen
cougars, the largest of which was eight feet in length and weighed 227
pounds. Mr. Roosevelt also brought down five bob-cats, showing that he
was just as skilful with his rifle as ever.
The hero of San Juan Hill fairly loved the outdoor exercise of the hunt,
and spent three weeks in keen enjoyment after his companions had
departed. During this time it snowed heavily, so that the hunters were
often compelled to remain indoors. As luck would have it there were
other ranches in that vicinity, with owners that were hospitable, so
that they did not have to go into camp, as would otherwise have been the
case.
On the last day of the hunt, Theodore Roosevelt was able to bring down
the largest cougar yet encountered. The hounds were on the trail of one
beast when they came across that of another and took it up with but
little warning.
"We're going to get a big one now," said Goff. "Just you wait and see."
"Well, if we do, it will be a good ending to my outing," responded
Theodore Roosevelt.
The cougar was at last located by the hounds in a large pinyon on the
side of a hill. It had run a long distance and was evidently out of
breath, but as the hunters drew closer, it leaped to the ground and
trotted away through the snow. Away went the hounds on the new trail of
the beast.
"He's game, and he'll get away if he can," said the guide.
At the top of another hill the cougar halted and one of the hounds
leaped in, and was immediately sent sprawling by a savage blow of the
wild animal's paw. Then on went the cougar as before, the hounds barking
wildly as they went in pursuit.
When Theodore Roosevelt came up once more, the cougar was in another
pinyon tree, with the hounds in a semicircle on the ground below.
"Now I think I've got him," whispered Theodore Roosevelt to his
companion, and advanced on foot, with great cautiousness. At first he
could see nothing, but at last made out the back and tail of the great
beast, as it lay crouched among the branches. With great care he took
aim and fired, and the cougar fell to the ground, shot through the back.
At once the hounds rushed in and seized the game. But the cougar was not
yet dead, and snapping and snarling the beast slipped over the ground
and down a hillside, with the dogs all around it. Theodore Roosevelt
came up behind, working his way through the brush with all speed. Then,
watching his chance, he jumped in, hunting-knife in hand, and despatched
the game.
"A good haul," cried Goff. And later on he and his men came to the
conclusion that it was the same cougar that had carried off a cow and a
steer and killed a work horse belonging to one of the ranches near by.
The five weeks spent in the far West strengthened Theodore Roosevelt a
great deal, and it was with renewed energy that he took up his duties as
Vice-President of our nation.
In the meantime, however, matters were not going on so well at home.
Among the children two had been very sick, and in the summer it was
suggested that some pure mountain air would do them a great deal of
good.
"Very well, we'll go to the mountains," said Mr. Roosevelt, and looked
around to learn what place would be best to choose.
Among the Adirondack Mountains of New York State there is a reservation
of ninety-six thousand acres leased by what is called the Adirondack
Club, a wealthy organization of people who have numerous summer
cottages built within the preserve.
Among the members was a Mr. McNaughten, an old friend of the Roosevelt
family, and he suggested that they occupy his cottage until the close of
the season. This invitation was accepted, and the whole Roosevelt family
moved up to the spot, which was located at the foot of Mount Marcy, the
largest of the mountains in that vicinity. Here Mr. Roosevelt spent much
time in hunting and fishing, and also in writing. The family were not
forgotten, and he frequently went out with the whole party, rowing and
exploring. Sometimes they took baskets of lunch with them and had
regular picnics in the woods, something the Roosevelt children enjoyed
very much.
In the meantime the Pan-American Exposition at Buffalo, New York, had
been opened, and day after day it was thronged with visitors.
Vice-President Roosevelt had assisted at the opening, and he was one of
many who hoped the Exposition would be a great success.
At the Exposition our government had a large exhibit, and it was thought
highly proper that President McKinley should visit the ground in his
official capacity and deliver an address. Preparations were accordingly
made, and the address was delivered on September 5 to a most
enthusiastic throng.[3]
[Footnote 3: For this speech in full, and for what happened after it was
delivered, see "American Boys' Life of McKinley."]
On the following day the President was driven to the Temple of Music, on
the Exposition grounds, there to hold a public reception. The crowds
were as great as ever, but perfectly orderly, and filed in at one side
of the building and out at the other, each person in turn being
permitted to grasp the Chief Magistrate's hand.
For a while all went well, and nobody noticed anything unusual about a
somewhat weak-faced individual who joined the crowd, and who had one
hand covered with a handkerchief. As this rascal came up to shake hands,
he raised the hand with the handkerchief and, using a concealed pistol,
fired two shots at President McKinley.
For an instant everybody was dazed. Then followed a commotion, and while
some went to the wounded Executive's assistance, others leaped upon the
dastardly assassin and made him a prisoner.
There was an excellent hospital upon the Exposition grounds, and to this
President McKinley was carried. Here it was found that both bullets had
entered his body, one having struck the breastbone and the other having
entered the abdomen. The physicians present did all they possibly could
for him, and then he was removed to the residence of Mr. Millburn, the
President of the Exposition.
In the meantime, all unconscious of the awful happening that was to have
such an influence upon his future, Mr. Roosevelt had been enjoying
himself with his family, and helping to take care of the children that
were not yet totally recovered from their illness. All seemed to be
progressing finely, and he had gone off on a little tour to Vermont, to
visit some points of interest and deliver a few addresses.
He was at Isle La Motte, not far from Burlington, when the news reached
him that President McKinley had been shot. He had just finished an
address, and for the moment he could not believe the sad news.
"Shot!" he said. "How dreadful!" And could scarcely say another word. He
asked for the latest bulletin, and, forgetful of all else, took the
first train he could get to Buffalo, and then hastened to the side of
his Chief.
It was truly a sad meeting. For many years these two men had known each
other, and they were warm friends. Their methods were somewhat
different, but each stood for what was just and right and true, and each
was ready to give his country his best service, no matter what the cost.
It was a sad time for the whole nation, and men and women watched the
bulletins eagerly, hoping and praying that President McKinley might
recover. Every hour there was some slight change, and people would talk
it over in a whisper.
In a few days there were hopeful signs, and the physicians, deceived by
them, said they thought the President would recover. This was glad news
to Theodore Roosevelt. Yet he lingered on, fearful to go away, lest the
news should prove untrue and he should be needed. But then there was a
still brighter turn, and he thought of his own family, and of the fact
that one of his children was again ill.
"I will return to my family," said he to two of his closest friends.
"But if I am needed here, let me know at once." And his friends promised
to keep him informed. Two days later he was back among the Adirondacks,
in the bosom of his family.
The prayers of a whole nation were in vain. William McKinley's mission
on earth was finished, and one week after he was shot he breathed his
last. His wife came to bid him farewell, and so did his other relatives,
and his friend of many years, Mark Hanna, and the members of his
Cabinet.
"It is God's way," murmured the dying Executive. "His will be done, not
ours." Then like a child going to sleep, he relapsed into
unconsciousness, from which he did not recover. He died September 14,
1901, at a little after two o'clock in the morning.
It was the last of a truly great life. Illustrious men may come and go,
but William McKinley will be remembered so long as our nation endures.
As a soldier and a statesman he gave his best talents to better the
conditions of his fellow-creatures, and to place the United States where
we justly belong, among the truly great nations of the world.