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Montezuma's
Castle
And
Other
Weird
Tales
[Decoration]
By
C. B. CORY
NEW YORK
RALPH S. MIGHILL
70 FIFTH AVENUE
1899
[Illustration: OFTEN AT NIGHT HE SPOKE WITH FIERY ELOQUENCE. P. 128.]
MONTEZUMA'S CASTLE
AND
OTHER WEIRD TALES
BY
CHARLES B. CORY
Author of "Dr. Wandermann," "Hunting and Fishing
in Florida," etc.
NEW YORK
RALPH S. MIGHILL
70 FIFTH AVENUE
1899
Copyright, 1899
BY CHARLES B. CORY
PRESS OF
Rockwell and Churchill
BOSTON, U.S.A.
TO
Charles K. Crane
AUTHOR AND TRAVELLER
WHOSE NAME RECALLS MANY PLEASANT MEMORIES
THIS BOOK
IS DEDICATED
CONTENTS.
PAGE
MONTEZUMA'S CASTLE 7
THE AMATEUR CHAMPIONSHIP 23
THE TRAGEDY OF THE WHITE TANKS 43
TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT 55
THE STRANGE POWDER OF THE JOU JOU PRIESTS 75
AN AZTEC MUMMY 78
A LESSON IN CHEMISTRY 90
AN INTERESTING GHOST 102
THE MOUND OF ETERNAL SILENCE 116
THE STORY OF A BAD INDIAN 127
A QUEER COINCIDENCE 135
THE STORY OF AN INSANE SAILOR 152
THE ELIXIR OF LIFE 173
THE VOODOO IDOL 194
AN ARIZONA EPISODE 205
ONE TOUCH OF NATURE 218
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
OFTEN AT NIGHT HE SPOKE WITH FIERY ELOQUENCE _Frontispiece._
THE CASTLE IS BUILT ON A LEDGE ON THE SIDE OF A MOUNTAIN 7
THE SMOKE CONTINUALLY OOZED FROM ALL PARTS OF HIS BODY 106
THE MOUND OF ETERNAL SILENCE 118
JUDSON'S MAP 119
TIXINOPA 127
MALITA 130
A SILVER COIN * * * ONE EDGE HAD BEEN FLATTENED AND A
HOLE PIERCED IN IT 152
THE GREAT DOG * * * RESTING HIS HEAD ON THE COWBOY'S
KNEE 218
[Illustration: THE CASTLE IS BUILT ON A LEDGE ON THE SIDE OF A
MOUNTAIN.]
MONTEZUMA'S CASTLE.
"No," said the curiosity dealer, "that mummy is not for sale. I had too
big a job to get it."
"Tell me about it," I asked.
The curiosity dealer carefully closed and locked the case, and then
meditatively rolled a cigarette.
"Well, it was this way: you see I was out after snakes and other natural
history specimens. I had a special order from a chap in New York for
three hundred snakes--he wanted some big rattlers. I think I sent him
some that pleased him; anyhow he paid for them all right. I had a
customer who wanted a rattlesnake with a very big rattle, and I fixed up
a snake for him on this trip and sent it to him afterwards. It had one
hundred and eighteen rattles! I glued a lot of rattles together, and by
taking off the buttons it was pretty hard to see where they were joined.
This rattle was more than a foot long.
"There was another Eastern chap wanted an ibex, which he said was found
up in these mountains. It had light-colored horns curved over at the
tips like a chamois and striped legs and eyes that stuck out like an
antelope. He had heard about the ibex and wanted a pair. I told him I
had often killed them, but they were hard to get."
"What is an ibex?" I asked.
"I'll be hanged if I know," answered the collector. "But there are
fellows in these mountains who say that there really are such animals,
and if he wanted to have an ibex, and had to have an ibex, I might as
well get him an ibex as anybody else, even if I had to make one.
"But to get back to my story. I had a big outfit on this trip and I
expected to get a lot of curios one way and another, what with snakes
and animals of various kinds, besides all the things that I might pick
up in the way of baskets and Indian relics, which might prove salable.
My outfit consisted of two wagons, five horses, and I had a Mexican
along to look after the teams and do the cooking.
"After being out some two weeks we found ourselves near what is called
'Montezuma's Castle,' up by the Verde. There are a lot of caves
scattered about up there, supposed to have been made by the Cave
Dwellers, and many of them had never been touched or examined.
"I had an offer of good money for a mummy, and had tried making them
from the bodies of Indian children, but I never could get them to look
real. The bones are not crumbly enough, and the rags which the real
mummies are done up in are pretty difficult to imitate.
"I was mighty anxious to explore the big caves, so off we went to the
place, and I tell you the old ruin they call 'Montezuma's Castle' is a
dandy, and don't you forget it. The castle is built on a ledge high up
on the side of a mountain which hangs over at the top. The only way to
get up is by ladders or ropes, and it is mighty hard to get there even
then.
"Right near there, on the face of the high cliff, there are a lot of
fine old Cliff dwellings, and some of them are more than one hundred
feet from the base. These cliffs are straight up and down, sometimes
nearly smooth, but often with narrow broken ledges here and there on the
face of the wall.
"One particular cave which seemed to be a rather large one was about
fifty feet up, and immediately below it were two or three small ledges,
which, after I had looked the place over, seemed to me to be
sufficiently wide to hold a ladder; and I came to the conclusion that if
I wished to explore one of these caves I had better try the one in
question.
"In my outfit I had two large tents, nine by fourteen, and the poles of
these tents, it seemed to me, would answer very well for ladders if I
connected them by pieces of rope. It was not necessary to make the steps
very near together, and by cutting notches in the poles and tying pieces
of rope across I succeeded in making two very good ladders, one fourteen
feet long, with the two top poles--one from each tent; and two small
ladders, each about seven feet. I made these last from the four upright
tent poles, there being two to each tent, as you know.
"The foot of the cliff was rough, and the first fifteen feet or so we
could climb easily to a broad ledge, then there came a space between
nine and ten feet in height, which was as smooth and perpendicular as a
wall. Here my first ladder was put up. Two small ledges above this, some
three feet apart, and a wider ledge four feet higher, allowed me to
climb up, without the use of ladders, to another ledge.
"From here I ran another small ladder up to a ledge which was between
two and three feet wide; from this ledge to the entrance of the cave was
about twelve feet, and my fourteen-foot ladder answered finely, but the
difficulty was, it had to stand so straight that it was rather ticklish
business going up; one could not help feeling that a slip or a little
backward jerk would topple it over into the valley below, and as from
the ledge where it stood to the bottom was some forty feet, a tumble on
to the rocks would prove most unpleasant.
"However, my Mexican, Antonio, held the ladder, and by very careful
work I succeeded in reaching the mouth of the cave and crawling in. I
had no sooner entered than I felt pretty sure it had never previously
been visited by any one since the original inhabitants left it. The
first thing I did was to take a stout piece of twine from my pocket and
fasten the end of the ladder to a piece of rock. Then I felt easier.
"There were numerous bits of broken pottery scattered about and one
nearly perfect specimen. Besides these there was a very interesting bit
of stone carving. These things I gathered together and placed in a heap
near the entrance. I then went back and, taking a small hatchet which I
had brought with me, commenced to dig about in the floor and pretty soon
found this little child mummy.
"By the time I had taken it out I was pretty thirsty and hot, as you may
suppose. I was careful and did not hurry matters, and the cave was like
an oven.
"Wrapping the little mummy carefully in a big handkerchief which I had
tied round my neck, I untied the twine from the ladder, and lowered the
bundle slowly down to Antonio, my Mexican, who was standing at the foot
of the top ladder. It reached him safely, but while he was untying it I
carelessly dropped the end of the string. I went back, however, and
gathered up the other relics, intending to take some of them down with
me and then come back for the rest if I could not manage them all the
first time.
"While I was looking them over I heard a crash and the sound of tumbling
stones, and looking out I saw that the ladder had fallen, and commenced
to curse Antonio for his carelessness; but imagine my horror when I saw
him throw down the bottom ladder and then run as fast as he could
towards the camp. My first and only thought was to pay Antonio for his
treachery. It was evidently his intention to leave me safely housed in a
place from which I could never escape alive, and start off the proud
owner of the two wagons, five horses, and various valuables which he
believed my boxes to contain.
"My revolver was still in my belt, and hastily pulling it I commenced
shooting at the running figure, now some sixty or seventy yards distant.
The first bullet knocked up a cloud of dust about three feet to his
right and a little ahead, the second was still worse, but at the third
he turned sideways, staggered on several paces, and fell among some
loose rocks in a way that must have been unpleasant. He tried to get up
again, but I now had his range pretty well and hit him again with the
sixth shot; after that he lay pretty quiet, although I thought I saw him
move his arm once or twice. I reloaded, having plenty of cartridges in
my belt, and began shooting at him again. This time I hit him three
times out of six shots, and as he had not moved for some minutes I
concluded that he was dead.
"Then I began to think over how I was going to get down. I was very
thirsty and it was tantalizing to see the water down in the valley
sparkling in the sunlight. It looked very clear and refreshing.
"I thought and thought, and the more I thought the more hopeless it
seemed to me to plan a way to get down alive. There was one ladder still
standing,--the second one,--but there was a space of some thirty feet
before I could reach it. I had absolutely nothing, not even a string, to
aid me in getting down.
"There was no use hoping for help from any one, for the place was rarely
visited, and it might be weeks before any person would discover that I
was there. I was getting more thirsty all the time, and, at last, I
hated to go to the mouth of the cave, hot as it was inside, because the
sight of the water nearly drove me mad. I amused myself by occasionally
taking a shot at Antonio. I had his range down pretty fine, now, and
rarely missed him. It was getting late, and the sun had long since sunk
out of sight. Above the mountains there was one tall peak which I could
see up the canyon. It stood out in the sunlight bright and shining, even
after the canyon had become quite dark.
"As the sun sank lower and lower the darkness crept gradually up until
only the very top was left a shining point. For a few minutes it shone a
fiery red and then the light was gone like a huge torch which flickers
and goes out.
"Then the night noises commenced: the incessant, maddening croaking of
the frogs and now and then an owl.
"Did you ever hear the frogs in Arizona?"
I responded in the affirmative.
"Well, then, you know something about what they sound like, and know
they can give Eastern frogs cards and spades and beat them easy. But you
don't know what they sound like when you are _really_ thirsty!"
"Probably not," I answered.
"Well," continued the curiosity dealer, "I knew nothing could be done
until morning, so I lay down and tried to sleep. I was very nervous and
could not help fearing that in the night I might walk in my sleep or
roll to the mouth of the cave and tumble out. I do not think I really
slept at all, but lay in a half-dazed condition until it was light
enough for me to see things in the canyon below.
"Strange to say, I was not hungry, although I had eaten nothing since
the previous morning. My whole thoughts were concentrated on the one
desire--something to drink! I thought and pondered, trying to think of
some possible way to get down! At one time I thought seriously of
jumping to the ledge below, but I knew that it would be impossible for
me to stay on it even if my legs were not broken by the fall, and that
to jump meant practically to commit suicide!
"At last a thought occurred to me that I might possibly make a rope out
of my clothes. I had a large pocket-knife and a hatchet, and no sooner
had the thought suggested itself than I commenced to undress. My canvas
coat, shirt, and trousers and some thin underclothes constituted my
entire wardrobe, and by carefully cutting them into strips wide enough
to bear my weight, and yet narrow enough to give sufficient length, I
succeeded in making a kind of a rope with which I hoped I could succeed
in reaching the second ladder without broken bones!
"I could not work steadily, as it was impossible for me to avoid getting
up and now and then walking about the cave. I suffered so with the heat
and thirst, that the hope of escape alone kept me from going mad. At
last the rope was done and tied together with various knots. It had a
creepy sort of stretchy feeling when I pulled on it, but I had no
alternative but to trust to it,--it was that or nothing, and nothing
meant death from thirst in a very short time.
"I succeeded in fixing the hatchet firmly into and across a cleft in the
rock where it was split, and it gave me something to tie the rope to
which I was satisfied would hold my weight. I tied the end of the rope
to the hatchet handle and threw the other end down, and was mighty glad
to see that it reached within four or five feet of the middle ledge.
"I was stark naked excepting my shoes, and I tell you it was no easy
task letting one's self down over the sharp edges of the rock. Every
moment I expected one of the knots to give way, and I shall never forget
the feeling which came over me as I swung myself clear of the ledge and
hung swaying on that improvised rope which seemed to stretch and grow
thin in a way which sent cold shivers running up and down my spine. It
seemed a year before I reached the ledge. I went down pretty slow,
sparing the rope as much as I could by supporting part of my weight by
digging my toes into every little crack and crevice I could find, but I
got there at last, and when I did, I sat down on the ledge and cried
like a baby.
"Well, that is the story. Of course I got down the rest of the way all
right, or I wouldn't be here; but I don't know as I would have done it
if Antonio had pulled down the second ladder instead of the bottom one.
He was evidently in too much of a hurry to do the job up right. After
reaching the second ladder, it was no kind of a trick to slide it down
and use it over again. The first thing I did when I got down was to run
as fast as I could to the river and drink as much water as I dared, then
I lay down in the water and enjoyed it. Talk about your Paradise
Cocktails--they are not to be compared with that Verde River water which
I tasted that day!"
"Antonio?"
"Oh, yes, he is there yet, I believe, although I have never been back
since to see, and I hope I never will. My first experience among the
Cliff Dwellers was all sufficient."
THE AMATEUR CHAMPIONSHIP.
I.
A committee from the Phoenix Athletic Club and one from the Prescott
Club had met, and after considerable discussion had arranged a match to
decide the Amateur Championship of Arizona.
As the Phoenix and Prescott clubs were far and away the foremost
athletic organizations in the Territory, the contest was looked forward
to with a great interest, especially as an intense rivalry existed
between the two cities.
"Let the contest be fair and square on both sides," said Smith, the
chairman of the Phoenix committee. "Let each club send its best man,
who is strictly an amateur, of course, and a member of the club, in
good standing, and let the best man win."
"Them's my sentiments exactly," responded Johnson, the chairman of the
Prescott committee. "Fair play and honors to the best man, say I! I did
think of sending a young fellow I know in our club who took some
sparring lessons in 'Frisco last year, and is quite clever; he's a
gunsmith by profession, but the trouble is he has been teaching the boys
during his spare time when he could get away from the shop, and that
makes him a professional, doesn't it?"
"It does," said Smith, "and I am glad to find you are as particular as I
am in such matters; let me tell you, it is a pleasure to meet a man like
yourself who tries to be fair and square, and to take no advantage of
anybody. Let's take something."
During the next few days there were anxious meetings of the committees
in charge of the arrangements. A certain man well up in sporting
matters went to 'Frisco as a committee of one, representing the Prescott
Club, to hunt for talent; at the same time a brother of the chairman of
the Phoenix committee, who kept a bar-room in Chicago, received a
letter which caused considerable discussion between him and his partner,
and several interviews with a certain short-haired, thick-set individual
who frequented his place.
"What I want," said the letter, "is the best man you can get. Some one
who is a sure winner, and can punch the stuffing out of this amateur
duck from Prescott. Don't make a mistake, and do not spare money. Get a
star, as the boys will bet all they have on him, and we do not want to
take any chances."
The following week the chairman of the committee of the Phoenix
organization received a letter from his brother in Chicago, which
informed him that for two hundred dollars, and expenses, they had
secured the services of a well-known professional, but one who had never
been West, and who, they were sure, could "lick" anything which could be
produced, professional or amateur, on the Pacific Coast. He had
commenced training, and they could rest easy, and bet as much money as
they wanted to.
Meanwhile the Prescott Club's representative had made a rich find in San
Francisco, in the shape of an Australian professional who had just
landed and was therefore not likely to be recognized. He had a record of
numerous victories in his own country, and cheerfully undertook, for the
sum of seventy-five dollars, "to knock the bloomin' head off any
bloomin' duffer," anywhere near his own weight, that might be brought
against him.
Things went along merrily, letters were exchanged between the chairman
of the two committees reporting as to the progress of their
representatives.
"Our young man," wrote the Prescott leader, "is doing very well, and I
hope great things from him. Naturally we want to win, and have secured
the best man of good amateur standing in our town to represent us. He is
a drug clerk, and his mother objected pretty strongly at first, but she
has been talked over. There will be a party of at least one hundred of
us go down with him, and I hope you will have front seats reserved for
us. Most of the boys feel inclined to wager a little on the success of
our representative, but he himself does not feel very confident of the
result. Upon my return I found quite a strong feeling in favor of having
the young gunsmith represent us, but, after my conversation with you,
could not for a moment countenance any such proceedings on our part."
Two nights following, the Prescott chairman read the following letter
in answer to the one which he had sent:
TO R. W. JOHNSON, ESQ.,
_Chairman of the Committee
for the Prescott Athletic Club_,
_Prescott, Arizona_:
DEAR SIR: I am glad to hear that there is considerable
interest taken in the forthcoming match. Boxing is a noble
art, and this coming contest will no doubt help to boom both
our clubs. There is a great interest taken here in the match,
and I warn you our man is getting himself in the very best
condition possible. He is nervous, of course, this being his
first appearance in an affair of this kind. He is a clerk in
a bank, who has lately been engaged by my friend Robinson,
and therefore does not get as much time for exercise as
perhaps would be wise, but Robinson is an enthusiastic sport,
as you know, and has arranged to let him get off several
hours each day. We look forward to a great contest, and I
certainly feel that the winner may fully consider himself the
Amateur Champion of the Territory. We shall take great
satisfaction in reserving the one hundred seats you ask for.
I think you will find all the money ready for you in the way
of bets that you will want. Our population is made up a great
deal, as you know, largely of miners and ranchers, and they
are inclined to bet recklessly. I cannot close without
congratulating the Prescott Athletic Club for the energy and
enterprise they have shown in this matter. May the best man
win!
Yours, etc.,
J. SMITH.
II.
There was a great crowd packed into the ring of the Phoenix Athletic
Association on the evening of the contest. Seats were at a premium, and
the fight had been the principal subject of conversation for days. The
two principals had met and been introduced to one another, just before
going to the scene of the contest. Both were dressed for the occasion,
and I tell you they were sights! The bank clerk had on a collar so high
that he could hardly turn his head, a high silk hat, long black
frock-coat, and an immense white rose in his buttonhole.
The Prescott drug clerk was still more gorgeous. Besides a buttonhole
bouquet and high collar, he sported an eye-glass, and smoked a cigarette
while in the presence of his opponent.
"'Ow's yer bloomin' 'ealth?" remarked the drug clerk. "Hi 'opes as 'ow
yer fit."
"Ah-h-h, go arn," answered the embryo financier, using only one side of
his mouth, "don't try ter jolly me, yer sage-brush dude, or I'll give
yer a poke right here."
Several members of the committee hastened to interfere, and put a stop
to all further danger of trouble by hurrying the principals off to their
dressing-rooms to prepare for the contest.
In the ante-room Smith hugged Robinson, and nearly wept with joy when
they were alone.
"Did you take a good look at the stiff?" he gasped. "Why, our man will
punch daylight out of him in two minutes after the gong sounds! Why, I
say this is wrong--it is too easy; I really feel sorry for these
Prescott chaps!"
Robinson chuckled and muttered something about "fools and their money
being soon parted," and then the two worthies repaired to the ringside.
Smith was to be Master of the Ceremonies, and climbing upon the raised
platform he crawled through the ropes, and after looking about him for a
moment, raised his hands to enjoin silence.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I must beg you all to stop smoking. The contest
which is to be held here to-night is to decide the Amateur Championship
of the Territory of Arizona. Nothing is more calculated to incite among
our younger men the love for athletic sports than such competitions,
when conducted in a fair and sportsmanlike manner. I must beg of you
not to allow yourselves to be biased towards indulging in any unseemly
noise in case your favorite should be worsted. What we want is a fair
field and no favoritism, and while we hope our boy will win, none of
you, I am sure, would wish in any way to feel that either man was given
any undue advantage. The men will fight with 3-oz. gloves, Marquis of
Queensbury rules, three minutes to each round, with a minute's rest
between. A man down to get up inside of ten seconds or be counted out.
No hitting in the clinches. Many of you are acquainted with the
gentlemen who are our representatives this evening, but for the benefit
of those who are not I will introduce them."
Waving his hand towards the Prescott pugilist, he said:
"This is Alexander Harrington, amateur champion of the Prescott Athletic
Club, who is, I may say, by profession a popular druggist in the town
from which he comes. [Considerable applause.]
"And this," he continued, pointing to the man who represented the
Phoenix Club, "is J. Francis Livingstone, a young man who has shown
himself to be a good exponent of the noble art, and who is deemed to be
the amateur champion of the Phoenix Athletic Association. As he has
only lately arrived, and is not very well known to many of you, I may
add that he is a personal friend of our Vice-president, Mr. Robinson,
and is employed at his bank. [Wild enthusiasm.] As there can be no
question as to the amateur standing of the gentlemen, I will again beg
of you to treat both men with equal favor, and will ask the Referee to
call time!"
The seconds at this climbed down from the ringside, shoving their stools
out under the ropes, and the two athletes, throwing aside their bath
robes, stood up in their corners, each stripped to the buff, with the
exception of tight trunks and canvas shoes. A roar of admiration and
astonishment went up as the bank clerk first exposed himself, and
Robinson grinned at Smith across the ring as the splendid exhibition of
muscle was exhibited. It was evident that the bank clerk had not devoted
all his time to banking; he was apparently as fit as a race-horse, and
the muscles of his back and arms twisted and rolled about like snakes,
at every movement.
But Robinson's expression altered somewhat as he glanced at the drug
clerk. That individual was somewhat shorter than his opponent, but if
the banking representative was well developed, he of the pharmaceutical
persuasion was magnificent.
Both men had been fanned and washed, their gloves carefully tied on, and
they now stood rubbing their shoes on some powdered rosin which was
scattered about the corners, eyeing each other intently. What they
thought will probably never be given to the public, but there is no
doubt that each must have experienced a feeling of surprise at the
physical condition of his opponent. This did not affect them in the
least, however, as they were both as anxious to begin as bull-dogs, and
when time was called and the gong rang, they danced to the middle and
commenced sparring for an opening, grinning with confidence.
For the first minute or two nothing was done. Forward and back they
moved, their arms moving in and out, each with his eyes fixed on the
face of his opponent, watching closely for an opening. Then the bank
clerk jumped in and led one, two, without effect, for his first blow was
neatly guarded and the second brought a vicious cross-counter in return,
which grazed his nose as he got back out of the way. In came the drug
clerk with a rush, and they closed just as the gong sounded which ended
the round.
Up through the ropes came the seconds with the activity of a lot of
monkeys, and the two men were hurriedly seated upon stools and each was
fanned furiously with a towel by one second, while the other bathed his
neck and face with cold water. A hum of conversation arose.
"Who is the blooming duck?" whispered the druggist to his principal
second. "'E ain't no bleeding dude, I can tell yer."
But before the man had time to reply, the gong sounded the call of
"time," and the men sprang forward to the middle of the ring.
There was no sparring this time--they went at it biff, bang, right and
left, sending in their blows with all the power of their muscular
bodies. The Referee, almost dancing with excitement, shouted to them to
"break away," and tried to part them when they clinched, but they were
no sooner separated than they closed again, fighting with the energy and
tenacity of bull-dogs.
Just before time was up, the drug clerk swung his right and caught the
gentleman of finance fair and square on the nose, with the result that
Prescott was awarded first blood and first knock-down, amid great
excitement.
During the one minute's rest the seconds did wonders. The men were
sponged and rubbed, while fanned constantly with a large towel, water
was squirted on their heads and the back of their necks, and at the
sound of the gong each arose from his stool looking as fresh as at the
start.
_Round 3_ opened as though it would be a repetition of the hurricane
style of fighting of the previous round, but after a clinch or two and
giving and receiving a few good blows, the men kept apart and fought
more warily. Each had evidently become satisfied that the other was not
quite the easy victim he had expected; and as this conviction gradually
dawned upon them they dropped the rough and tumble style and fought
with more skill and caution, each watching and waiting for an opening,
hoping for a chance for a "knock-out," but none came, and the round
closed with honors even.
During the intermission Watkins, the sheriff, who was acting as Referee,
talked earnestly with a friend, and from time to time looked hard at the
drug clerk. He turned towards the time-keeper and seemed about to say
something, when the bell rang and the men were again in the middle of
the ring.
_Round 4_ had commenced.
They were both fresh and eager, but business was written all over their
hard faces,--they were not smiling now. Round and round they moved,
constantly facing each other, their arms moving back and forth like a
machine. Now and then one or the other would make a quick feint or
move, and the other would spring back with the agility of a
dancing-master.
Suddenly the financier thought he saw an opening, and let go his left,
but was short, and received a counter in return which sounded all over
the place; then they went at it hammer and tongs and kept the Referee
very busy separating them, and making them fight fair. Questionable
prize-ring methods were resorted to by both men, and the knowledge shown
by these amateurs of the little unfair tricks of the professional
prize-fighter was astonishing. The bank clerk took especial pains to
stick his thumb in his opponent's eye whenever they clinched, and the
compounder of drugs used his head and elbow in a way which is frowned
upon by advocates of fair play.
The men were fighting hard and fast when the round ended. Every man in
the crowd was on his feet yelling like a hyena, as they went to their
corners. Referee Watkins walked to the side of the ring, and raising
his hand to enjoin silence, stood waiting for the uproar to subside. At
last, when he could be heard, he addressed the crowd as follows:
"Gentlemen, I am sorry to stop this fight, but I must do it. These men
are supposed to be fightin' for the Amatoor Champeenship of the
Territory. Whether this is a put-up job or not, I do not know, but I do
know that the Prescott man is a professional pug, lately arrived from
Australia. I suspected him from the first. From the way he acted I was
pretty blamed sure he was no drug clerk and my friend here, Jim Sweeney,
swears he knows him, and that he was called the 'Ballarat Boy' when he
saw him fight in Australia, some seven months ago. I can't let this
thing go on, and have honest men lose their money. I am not dead sure in
my mind that the other man isn't a ringer; he is a damned sight too good
for an amatoor; but that cuts no ice. This fight stops right now. It's
a draw, and all bets are off."
There was a tremendous row, but the pugilists were hurried off to their
respective dressing-rooms, and the crowd slowly left the building. On
the steps outside, Johnson, the chairman of the Prescott Athletic Club,
met Smith, and, going up to him, he offered him his hand.
"Smith," said he, "I want to tell you how pained I am that the affair
ended as it did. You, of course, do not for a moment suspect that any of
us knew our man was a professional. How he could deceive us I cannot
understand. Why, I was never more fooled in my life!"
Smith shook hands heartily. "Don't say a word, Johnson; the best of us
are often deceived, and the more pure our motives are the easier it is
to fool us."
"That's so."
They walked on in silence for a short distance.
"Smith."
"Hallo."
"Pity they stopped it; it was a lovely scrap while it lasted."
"That's what it was," said Smith.
THE TRAGEDY OF THE WHITE TANKS.
"I do not believe," said the curiosity dealer, "that the bite of the
gila monster is fatal. It is poisonous, no doubt, and there have been
one or two cases of death where persons have been bitten by it, but it
is always well to remember that the teeth themselves may be in a
condition to produce blood-poisoning, which might cause death without
the assistance of any particular toxic venom. The rattlesnake, however,
which is rather too common in the desert, is a different sort of a chap.
If he strikes you, you may just as well make your will, and chirp your
death song, as to monkey with physicians, and squander some of the good
wealth which may be useful to your family."
I asked him if he did not believe in the efficacy of some of the
so-called Indian snake cures.
"There are lots of Indian remedies," he continued, "and snake charmers'
cures for rattlesnake bites, which are, in my opinion, all poppy-cock.
It is claimed that the Moquai Indians, during their Snake Dance, allow
rattlesnakes to bite them, and after applying the juice of a certain
herb suffer no ill effects from the poison. This may be all right, but
the antidote is considerable of a secret, and you cannot buy it at your
druggist's.
"There was a chap over in France who claimed to have produced an
anti-venomous serum which was a sure cure for the poison of a
rattlesnake, or any other old snake which you might want to have bite
you. I squandered five dollars of my hard-earned wealth in sending for
a bottle. This chap lives at Lille, France, and manufactures his serum
at the Pasteur Institute at that place. He gives careful directions as
to how much to use, and just how to use it, and it may be all right with
some snakes which have the reputation of being bad, but it don't go with
our rattlers. I tried it in all sorts of ways. I tried to get a Mexican
to experiment on, but couldn't. None of them had much faith in the
cure--not enough to let a healthy snake bite 'em for five dollars.
"Then I tried dogs. I got three curs, all in robust health. The first
one died in fifteen minutes after being struck by a big rattlesnake
which I had in a box, although I injected him with a carefully measured
dose of the serum. Another one lived several hours, and made a hard
struggle. I thought at one time he might pull through, but it was no
use. He joined his friend in dog heaven after giving his final kick four
hours and fifteen minutes after he and the snake had been introduced to
each other.
"The third one was a half-breed bull bitch with lots of vitality. I
tried to make this one immune by injecting a dose of the serum
twenty-four hours before, and again immediately after she was struck by
the snake, but she did not do as well as the other one, and died in
three hours and sixteen minutes. All these dogs seemed to die from
inability to breathe. The poison apparently acts on the respiratory
centres rather than directly on the heart. They all vomited just before
they died."
"Have you never found out what the Indians use as an antidote?" I asked.
"No, I have tried, but they keep it a carefully guarded secret. One
reason why I believe that the secret is so carefully preserved is
because they have no antidote, and the whole thing is a bluff.
"You see," continued the collector, "in my wanderings about the country
I have run across a great many queer people, and as you seem interested
in this subject, I will tell you an incident which happened while I was
out at camp one time at the White Tanks, catching gila monsters, horned
toads, etc.
"I remember the year well, because I had a lot of trouble with a very
useless assistant of mine, whom I sent to Central America to collect for
me. Among the birds he brought back were a lot of skins of the blue
chatterer--the one with the purple throat, you know. He knew I was
anxious to get new species, so he thought he would be smart and make
some for me. So he manufactured five, all with faked labels on, showing
that each species was taken at different altitudes. Unfortunately he
commenced too high, and the mountains in the vicinity where he
collected, and where the labels indicated that the birds were taken,
lacked several hundred feet of the necessary altitude for two of the
species, so that if his labels were correct he must have shot them out
of a balloon.
"They all looked alike except about the throat and head. One lot had a
gold band across the breast, another had the whole throat gold, others
had gold stripes or spots. I believe he produced these gaudy effects
with the lighted end of his cigar.
"He doctored up a lot of humming-birds, too, and made me a peck of
trouble. I fired him, all right. Dishonesty in a trade like mine is, I
think, most reprehensible, and there is no money in it, because you are
dead sure to get found out.
"He was a cute little chap, however, and had learned a lot of tricks
from the Indians. He could change a bird's color by feeding it on
certain kinds of food. There is a chap in Amsterdam who does about the
same thing and brightens up old worn birds which have faded out in the
Zoological Gardens, and sends them back with all the brilliancy of their
original plumage restored; but he cannot turn a red parrot blue, or make
a gray bird with a yellow head turn to bright orange all over, as this
chap could. He told me how he did it, but the secret is too good to give
away. But to get back to the story about rattlesnakes:
"It was, as I said, in the spring of '89, a party of us were camped at
the White Tanks about forty-five miles north-west of here, and one day a
chap came into our camp, a half-breed Mexican Indian, who called himself
a snake-charmer. He had a box of rattlesnakes which he would allow to
twine round his neck and bite him, for a dollar. He travelled about the
country giving exhibitions with his snakes, and selling the rattlesnake
cure, which was put up in small bottles containing a brown-colored
liquid, which he claimed he made from a plant which was a sure cure for
the bite of the rattlesnake, and a number of the boys bought this
remedy, paying him a dollar a bottle.
"He had seen our camp, as he drove along the road to Phoenix, and he
told us he had been up country for two or three weeks visiting some
mines, where he had done very well, selling his cure to the miners and
exhibiting his snakes.
"There were several of us in the party, and one chap, a doctor by the
name of Baker, who was always playing practical jokes. As we were coming
back to Phoenix, the next day, Miguel, which was the snake-charmer's
real name, I believe, although he was generally known as Mexican John,
decided to stay over a day and go back with us.
"Baker proposed that we should see how much faith Miguel had in his own
antidote. As it happened, I had captured a very big rattlesnake the day
previous, and had him in a box in my tent. By the aid of some forked
sticks and bagging we succeeded in fastening the snake so that he could
not move. We then pried his mouth open, and kept it open with a small
stick. We took all this trouble for the purpose of preparing him to
assist in an experiment in which he and Mexican John were to be the
principal performers. Baker carefully cut out the poison-sacs, which are
situated just beneath the temporal muscle, back of the eye. It was
suggested that it would be better to remove the fangs, to avoid any
possibility of danger; but Baker objected, as he said removing the fangs
would give the whole thing away.
"He took the precaution, however, while the snake lay helpless with its
mouth open, to carefully wash the teeth, and then filled the small
openings near the end of the fangs with some dental cement which Baker
had in his outfit, which hardens in a few minutes. You see, the fangs
of a rattlesnake are like two hypodermic syringes. They are hollow
tubes, as it were, with an opening near the point,--a little narrow
slit, but one that is easily seen, if you look for it. Through this he
squirts the poison by the aid of the temporal muscle, which he contracts
as he strikes.
"As we had removed the poison-sacs and plugged up the fangs, this snake
was not in a very good condition to do any serious harm. He, however,
was fighting mad, and evidently did not enjoy the operation which he had
undergone. It did not seem to hurt him any, however, for he was as
lively as a kitten when we let him loose in the box, and was ready and
anxious to strike at anything.
"Towards evening Miguel came back to camp, and we had the snake all
ready for him. It was a much larger one than those which he had in his
box, and when we slipped it in among the others we could easily
recognize it from its size. The boys asked John to give an exhibition of
the curative powers of his snake cure, saying that they would like to
buy some more, but wished to see it tried before doing so.
"John was quite ready, and after opening a bottle of the antidote he
lifted the cover of his snake box, and reached in his hand to take one
of them out. As he did so, he was immediately struck good and hard by
our latest addition to the collection.
"My, how he carried on! He looked hastily into the box, and then at the
marks on his hand, where the fangs had cut in. He gave one screech,
grabbed a knife, cut the place wide open, and commenced to suck it
fiercely, at the same time praying and cursing almost in the same
breath.
"The boys begged him to apply his antidote, asking him what was the
matter and why he appeared to be so frightened, but all the answer they
could get was, 'Don't touch me. I am going to die! I'm going to die!'
"And say, what do you think? He _did_ die! He got weaker and weaker. His
teeth were clenched, and he refused to take whiskey, although the boys
forced some down his throat. In a little while he became insensible, and
in less than an hour he was dead.
"'Scared to death,' you say? Well, maybe so; anyway, the boys said the
laugh was on Baker!"
TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT.
When Dr. Watson entered I saw by his manner that he had something of
more than usual interest to communicate. Watson has a trick of winding
and unwinding his watch chain around his finger whenever he has some
case in which he is particularly interested. As a rule, his work in the
asylum keeps him busy the greater part of the day, and the little time
he has to spare is given to cases in which he is called in consultation
or by special appointment.
Therefore, knowing how busy he was, I felt certain that something out of
the ordinary had called him from his regular duties at this time of day,
and I was interested to learn what it was.
Watson is nothing if not direct, and rarely wastes words. On this
occasion he certainly lived up to his reputation, for he began talking
before he was fairly in the room.
"My dear Morris," he said, "I have called to talk with you of a most
interesting case, which has lately come under my observation. It is one
in which I need your help, and I hope you will be able to spare the time
to assist me."
I nodded and waved him to a chair.
"The case in question is a most interesting one, in which hypnotic
suggestion may or may not be an important factor.
"You know young Blake, the son of the late Mathew Blake, and you are
aware that he has been rather extravagant in his habits and ways of
living, and although not exactly a spendthrift, undoubtedly spends more
money than he ought to in many ways. The great trouble with him is his
passion for race-horses, and that is what, one of these days, is going
to break him financially, unless I am very much mistaken.
"Just now young Blake has two horses entered in the big race which comes
off day after to-morrow at Eaton Park. One of his horses, called
Emperor, is well known, and he should easily win the race. He is by far
the best horse of the lot, and has been selling in the pools for two to
one against the field. The other horse is not nearly as good as Emperor,
and has little chance of being placed. Murphy, the jockey who is to ride
Emperor, is one of the best on the turf, although comparatively a young
boy, probably about nineteen years old. He has ridden a number of races,
and from all reports is a lad of good habits, and seemingly thoroughly
honest.
"Young Blake, as you know, 'plunges' more or less on his horses when
they run, whenever he thinks they have a fair show to win, and in this
case he has bet a great deal more money than he can afford to lose,
knowing that unless the horse meets with some unforeseen accident he is
certain to win the race. As I understand it, he has bet so much money
that if by any chance Emperor should lose the race it would seriously
hurt young Blake. Of course, this is all foolishness from our
standpoint, but the fact remains that the young man has bet this money,
and that any accident which would interfere with his pulling off that
race would cause him serious loss.
"Knowing his father as I did, I have taken more or less interest in the
boy, and have time and again advised him to let racing alone, and settle
down to more serious life. I should not have taken the special interest
in this particular race had it not been that by a curious coincidence
information has come to me which leads me to suspect that everything is
not as it should be at young Blake's stables.
"Last year one of the stable boys, a lad by the name of Collins, was
badly injured by an accident, and young Blake saw that he was nicely
taken care of, and paid him a salary during his illness. The youngster
was grateful, and the other day, it seems, he came to Mr. Blake and told
him that Murphy, the jockey who is to ride Emperor, had been sleeping
badly for several nights, and talked a good deal in his sleep about the
horses.
"Murphy and Collins sleep together in the room over the stable, and the
night before last Collins was awakened by hearing Murphy call out to
some one, and then say distinctly, 'Yes, yes, I understand; if you wave
your handkerchief I am to 'pull' Emperor. If you do not wave it I am to
win, if I can.'
"This is serious business. The boy was dreaming, of course; but why did
he dream such a dream? The idea of 'pulling' being in the boy's mind is
in itself enough to cause serious reflection. Yesterday young Blake
called on me and told me this story as it had been told to him by
Collins. Collins was present at the time, and again repeated his
statement, declaring positively that he could not have been mistaken in
the words spoken by Murphy in his sleep, and that the boy seemed very
much excited.
"Blake, by my advice, sent for Murphy and we had a serious conversation
with him. The boy seemed thoroughly honest, and was very much hurt upon
being questioned in regard to the matter. He said that he had worked for
Blake several years and had always tried to do right, that he intended
to ride his best, and win the race if he could.
"Blake naturally feels somewhat disturbed under the circumstances, but
he believes the boy is honest, and he believes young Collins must in
some way have been mistaken in what he imagines he heard. Or, if he was
not mistaken, that Murphy was dreaming, and the words had no
significance.
"He told Murphy to go back to the stables, and that he would trust him
implicitly, stating at the same time that it would cause him serious
inconvenience if by any chance Murphy should not win, as he had bet a
large amount of money on the result.
"Murphy, with tears in his eyes, thanked him for trusting him, and went
back to the stables. Afterwards I had a serious conversation with
Collins, and learned that on two occasions he had seen Murphy talking
with a strange man who often visited the track.
"Upon inquiry we have learned that the man in question is a brother of a
man who married Murphy's sister, and that Murphy has met him several
times at his sister's house. The man's name is Simms. He is a low
character, who is known as a habitual frequenter of the race track, and
who at times does business as a poolseller and bookmaker. Simms is
described as being thin and dark, with a big scar on his right cheek,
usually wears a soft hat, and carries a cane with considerable silver
about the handle.
"Last night I decided to have an interview with Murphy and find out
whether the lad could be hypnotized or not. Why this idea suggested
itself to me I do not know, except that, as you know, hypnotism is one
of my hobbies. With Blake's consent I sent for Murphy, and asked him to
let me look him over, as I would like to assure Blake as to his physical
condition, as naturally he was feeling, as I told him, somewhat nervous
after our interview of the morning.
"The boy consented readily enough, and after listening to his heart,
and asking him a few questions which might suggest a cause for his
restlessness at night, I asked him to look at me fixedly while I gently
stroked his forehead above the eyes with my hand. Imagine my surprise
when I found him to be an extremely sensitive hypnotic subject. He did
not become entirely unconscious, but was in a peculiar somnambulistic
condition, in which he conversed readily enough. He is one of the best
subjects for post-hypnotic suggestion that I have ever seen.
"I tried several experiments with him, and the thought occurred to me if
it was not possible that this susceptibility to hypnotic suggestion
might be used by unscrupulous persons in many ways, which might be
especially dangerous in case he was riding a good horse in a race.