162 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
\AvQ. 39, 1890. 
BEAR CHIEF, THE BLACKFOOT. 
InBcribed to Natoye, Forest and Stbbam's Blackfoot baby, of the 
Forest and Strbam's Indian Camp, at New York Sportsmen's Expo- 
fsition, March, 1896. 
Tbb Blackfoot Chief, from native wilds and ways, 
Borne to the white man's mightiest town, 
Complacently withstood the curious gaze 
Of eager thousands; up and down 
"The place of many houses" flash'd his eyes— 
Too pure an Indian to betray surprise. 
Confronted with the wonders wrought by r»an. 
The triumphs of the tbousand years, 
The "long results" of science, and the span — 
The arch of art that genius rears', 
Straining beyond the natural to ideals- 
Bey ond the simpler needs an Indian feels. 
"It is a strange and fearful place," said he; 
What cultured scholar might say more 
With all his words and sage philosophy? 
A strange and fearful place! The roar 
Of ceaseless traffic in a maze of art 
Dazed not his brain, but chill'd his Indian heart I 
With dignity and pride he strode among 
Ihe great, the stately, rich and grand. 
To him an aUen race, with alien tongue — 
Usurpers of his native land- 
Yet, with a spirit that few Christians know, 
He smiled to all, whatever might sleep below, 
A. master of brief speeches, what he said 
Was tersely eloquent and clear; 
Each gesture apt, as though a bowstring sped 
An arrow's message to the deer. 
When he had flnish'd (note, Paroles, pray) 
He closed with "This is all I have to say." 
Bear Chief had slain in wars some twenty men — 
So read the record of his life— 
And these of hostile tribes when, now and then 
He used his rifle or his knife; 
A record fairly good, though something spare 
Compar'd with that of many a white chief there ! 
But then he was not bred to church and state, 
To commerce and the trend of trade— 
Nor yet enlightened how to speculate 
And hoard the ducats shrewdly "made." 
Nor was he civilized enough to know 
Just how to batten on his nation's woel 
He nothing knew of individual right. 
Sanctioned "conditions" and the laws 
By which a thrifty few may blast and blight 
The lives of millions or the cause 
Of nations, of humanity, and mar 
Until the mass revolts and Beason shrieks for War I 
His soul was kept to narrower ways, and pent 
Within the circle of his needs; 
His avarice to his arms, a horse and tent. 
Ambition to heroic deeds; 
Beyond immediate use the lust for pelf 
Roused not the demon Ego, flend of Self. 
His passions, such as nature's plans, conform 
Quite unabridged, untrammel'd, free- 
Might like the tempest burst! but, minus storm, 
All life would stagnate with the sea; 
And his affections, potent as his hate, 
Fix'd in his soul the constancy of fate. 
The Blackfoot warrior saw, but envied not. 
The treasures of the white man's mart; 
No word of his regretful for his lot 
Came from his lips; his loyal heart 
Turned always back to nature and the West — 
His land, his people seem'd to him the best. 
Mark well the features of the Indian chief- 
How few are nobler in the throng! 
Nay, turn from it to him, and feel relief- 
Few faces there more true or strong. 
By want oppress'd, or if by foes assail'd. 
The chief a friend, think you his aid had fail'df 
There are no terrors could appall that brow, 
No dangers that he would not scorn; 
Long years of hazard have not made him bow. 
To peril and privation born. 
Deceived, betrayed, his nation feebly few. 
And tried by all the vanquished ever knew — 
Fidelity in his firm visage glows. 
True manhood dignified his form I 
From those dark eyes, so placid in repose, 
* What gleams might flash in passion's storm! 
Would he desert a friend, a failing cause. 
Though life and death combined to bid him pause? 
Not he! His heart, once set upon a cast, ' 
"Would stand the hazard of the die"— 
His blows would be the fiercest and the last, 
Or death alone the reason why 1 
"A touch of nature makes the world akin" — 
But all the arts can never make such men] 
And Antelope— a princess of a line 
Older than heraldry can trace— 
Her parent tree coeval with the pine 
That plumes her ancient hiUs; her race 
Emblazons not its pride in fire-new charms— 
Her strain, her lineage, needs no coat-of-arms. 
'Tis told of by the aged ancient of her tribe. 
Antique traditions, legends old. 
Where history lives and breathes- without a scribe- 
Is cherished still, though not enscroU'd, 
Where gray old mothers, scarr'd and wrinkled sires 
Murmiur their memories by their smouldering fires. 
A princess she by every sacred right, 
Ignored but by the white man's law; 
Dethroned but by the soulless force of might 
And human greed's insatiate mawl 
The fittest will survive (perchauoe of men), 
The proverb sayeth not of where, or when. 
Ay, every inch a princess, yet a waif, 
Clasping Natoye to her breast- 
Wee simile of herself! Heav'n keep them safe 
Amid the perils of the West— 
Where Indian babes and mothers, like the braves. 
Are swept from "reservations" to their graves! 
As ail the thousand tribes have gone before. 
These stragglers follow fleetly on 
To that far place, that happy, mystic shore. 
Beyond the sunset and the dawn- 
Beyond the dreary winters, famines, woea, 
To vanished Blackfoot hosts and buffaloes. 
California. Charles L. Paiqb. 
ONE DAY IN THE TROPICS. 
That long neck of land known as the Malay Peninsula, 
which juts out from southeastern Asia, reaching a thou- 
sand miles into the archipelago beyond, is but indif- 
ferently known to Europe and scarcely at all to America. 
Though it is .now more than 300 years since the Por- 
tuguese flag was first unfurled along its shores, and 
England has had possessions there since the beginning of 
the century, yet it is only recently that anything has 
been done toward its exploration and development. The 
country itself is interesting. Its vegetation has all the 
luxuriance of the valley of the Amazon. Here we see 
the peculiar and varied flora of the far east mingled with 
the less tropical, but quite as interesting, forms of Siam 
and India. 
It is a romantic land. One has no 'trouble to detect in 
the brown-skinned inhabitants those qualities of mind 
and body which their ancestors before them used against the 
hated European — "infidel," as they delight to call them — 
invaders. As a race they are proud and independent. 
They do not forget how their rajahs once ruled over pow- 
erful kingdoms, and their soft, musical language was the 
medium of diplomacy in the capitals of Siam and China. 
In their cheritas they have the stories of their ancient 
greatness, and they cling to them as the Greeks did to 
the ballads of Homer. 
I spent a few days on the peninsula for recreation and 
collecting, and count among my many experiences a ride 
in a bullock cart from our bungalow to the hot springs at 
Ayer Panas, or "hot water," as the natives say, the most 
interesting. 
We were staying at a Chinese house back in the foot- 
hills in the midst of a pepper plantation. My companion 
was a man born and raised in the East and used to all 
the ups and downs of outdoor life. He was delighted 
with our location; I was enthusiastic over it. All was 
strange and new, and we had nothing to do but enjoy it. 
The neighboring ladaugs we explored completely; we 
climbed hills covered with massive granite boulders, 
where the tall lalang grass waved breast high. 
While wandering about in the forest near the house, I 
met an old Malay and asked him if there were tigers 
about. "Ada" ("there are") was his nonchalant reply, 
and then seeing that I expressed some surprise at the 
stolidly imparted information asked: "Tuan lakut?" ("Is 
master afraid?") When I ventured to assure him that I 
should climb a tree at the first sight of a tiger he smiled 
commiseratingly and remarked, "No use, master." How- 
ever, I never met with any of the dreaded "grand- 
fathers" of the forest, though I penetrated every thicket 
in quest of flowers or insects. 
Our journey to the springs was to be the crowning 
glory of our visit, and our minds were fuU of spacu ation 
and anticipation concerning it. 
The night before the promised excursion was fine. 
The moonlight had the peculiar golden splendor common 
to nights in the tropics. With the settling down of night 
came a sense of peaceful quiet which was only broken by 
the creaking of the belated kretas in the road below, or 
the chirping of the ctmikarets in the trees behind. 
We were up at the breairing of day to begin prepara- 
tions for our start. A cawiage had been left for our serv- 
ice, but we preferred to undwtake the ride in a native 
buUock cart and enjoy for once a taste of primitive loco- 
motion. At 8 o'clock one drew up before our door. Not 
till then did the wonders and beauties of the vehicle dawn 
upon us. It was a long, low affair, hung between two 
huge wheels, which were held on to the axle by pins; 
above the cart itself, elevated perhaps 3ft., was the long 
co/angr-leaf cover hung over a crescent-bent pole for the 
ridge. This projected high enough for one to sit under 
without touching the head. On a board nailed to the 
tongue sat the Malay driver, with a towel wound around 
his head and a flowing sarong reaching to his ankles. He 
was to be our Jehu. 
Two Wiry-looking, gray-colored bullocks, with ropes 
through their noses, completed our turnout. True, it 
was not stylish, nor even comfortable, but it was ancient, 
and so we were satisfied. 
We packed in our traps— first a bark matting and then 
our blankets, for we had to sit on the bottom of the cart; 
my butterfly net was hung upon a peg. The Chinese 
cook brought out a teapot, packed nicely in a basket, and 
a loaf of bread. For the rest of our provisions we were to 
trust to the natives. 
AH at last was ready; we were off. The driver jerked 
upon the reins and the bullocks plunged down the hill, 
over washouts and heaps of dirt, and finally turned into 
the road. During the descent we had taken our first les- 
son in this new method of oriental traveling. When the 
cart bounced over stones our heads bobbed up into the 
cajang, and as we turned the corner we were thrown into 
each other's arms. The box of the cart was fastened 
directly to the axle, and ever^ movement of the bul- 
locks made it dance and swing like an old-fashioned see- 
saw. 
The road for the first two miles led along the edges of 
worn-out ladaugs, covered with grass and shrubbery; then 
it turned off into a more hilly region. The bullocks 
seemed accustomed to such excursions, for they plodded 
leisurely along except when goaded by the driver, and 
then, if on the downhill, would go at breakneck speed. 
How the cart rattled and jumped! After one such de- 
scent we found the teapot overturned. We righted it 
with care, for the noon lunch depended upon it. 
The country now became rougher and more interesting. 
From the tops of high hills we could catch glimpses of 
blue, smoky peaks off to the eastward. The grass was 
higher in the neglected plantations and flowers more fre- 
quently peeped from the shadows. The road itself was 
magnificent. All over the peninsula the important 
thoroughfares are kept in good repair, "^e left |ibe de- 
serted fields and entered a region known as the Forest 
Reserve — ^a large tract of virgin forest as yet untouched 
by the axe. 
At first the forest skirted only one side of the road and 
on the other stretched the undulating ZaZang- covered hills. 
Up above our beads rose a great, impenetrable wall of 
green, so high indeed as to overshadow the road. The 
undergrowth was dark, dense and so tangled that ope 
could not enter it; gigantic tree trunks rose from out this 
base of green and lifted their naked stems, straight as 
sentinels, far into the sky. One old giant in particular, 
fully 7ft. in diameter, must have been 150ft. high or even 
more, and without a branch to the very top. What a 
connecting link is such a tree between the past and 
presentl 
It was a pleasing relief to turn from looking at this 
great tree and gaze out over the wooded ravines and 
grassy slopes to the haze of the mountains. Another 
turn of the road brought us directly into the forest and 
we had to content ourselves with views nearer at hand. 
For the first, I noticed strange butterfiies flitting about 
from one shadow to another. One beautiful one, which 
I afterward learned was the Euthalia asoka, interested 
me especially. The under side of its wings was of a 
beautiful bronze-ash color, and hen it lazily folded them 
together the colors danced and shimmered dazzlingly. 
Bat on the wing it appeared to the best advantage. From 
the body outward two-thirds of the upper side of each 
primary was glossy, brownish black, set in a circle of rich 
plum purple, which shaded into bronze on the upper 
edge. I took my net and quietly dropped down behind 
the cart. The Malay stopped the bullocks inquiringly. 
No doubt he wondered what the tuan was chasing the 
poor, harmless koopoo-koopoos for. The butterfly rested 
on the bristling point of a grass blade, gently flapping its 
wings. Stealthily I drew near, with the net poised for 
the swoop, and then, frightened by some stumbling step 
of mine, the butterfly sailed away like an aggravating 
sprite. Not daunted by one failure, I followed and was 
successful. As the folds of my net settled down over the 
little beauty I experienced the same thrill of satisfaction 
that a sportsman does when he lands a gamy fish. Care- 
fully I extricated my capture, and it is now labeled in my 
collection, "Caught on the road to Ayer Panas." A num- 
ber of fine specimens I caught that day, but none which 
gave me more delight than my Euthalia. 
The road which had led over hills and lowlands now 
turned aroimd the base of a long slope and disclosed an 
open meadow off to the right, and two bungalows among 
the palm trees. Our driver, pointing with the whip, said: 
"Ayer Panas," and we knew we had reached the Mecca 
of our pilgrimage. We had covered the nine miles in 
three hours, which, considering the roads and the convey- 
ance, was good traveling, Down on the edge of the open 
meadow a large number of carts like our own were drawn 
up in line, and the bullocks in care of their drivers were 
grazing a little way off. 
Three or four Chinese families had come out from Ma- 
lacca for a day's outinj?, lured perhaps by the medicinal 
properties of the springs. With characteristic politeness 
they greeted us cordially in Malay, which is the common 
language of the country. Our Jehu unyoked the oxen; 
guided by an old Malay, who acted as keeper of the bun- 
galows and man-of -all-work, we were off for the springs. 
At the end of a short causeway leading out into the low- 
land a small building had been erected for the accommo- 
dation of any one wishing a bath. The Government has 
made considerable attempt at improvement, but the place 
will never be popular till the country is tmder cultivation. 
Our guide opened the door of the cottage and admitted 
us. In the middle of the room was a large concrete tank 
divided by a partition of brick. This partition was pierced 
in one or two places, and a conduit connected the tank 
with the main spring, which was under the end of the 
building, some 10ft. away. The atmosphere was hot and 
oppressive and heavily charged with moisture. I dipped 
my finger into the water and found it nearly boiling. In 
the passage of the water through the porous pipe to the 
tank it must lose two or three degrees of heat, so that in the 
spring itself the water is at the boiling point. A certain 
scientific doctor, who made an examination of the spring, 
reported that none of the famed springs of Europe had 
better claim to healing virtues than this. Consequently 
we deemed ourselves fortunate, for, while we never could 
have visited Carlsbad, here, 10,000 miles away in the jun- 
gles of an unknown land, we were at liberty to enjoy a,ll 
the benefits of a peaceful sanitarium, with the addition of 
more beautiful scenery than the einwohner of Carlsbad 
ever dreamed of. 
The vertical sun over the palm trees suggested lunch 
time. We carried our teapot and solitary loaf to the 
veranda of the bungalow and there coaxed the old Malay 
to try to get U9 some fruit. He went away and was gone 
80 long we thought he had played "hookey," but at last 
we saw him coming up the path with a basket out of 
which were sticking long yellow plantains with mango- 
steens piled in below. We gave him 25 cents, which made 
him happy for one day at least. But disaster shadowed 
us; when we opened our tea-basket the pot was empty. 
That ill-fated fall in the morning bad drained out every 
drop. Next we unwrapped the bread, but horriMle dictu, 
it was like putty. My friend remarked that the tea was 
still there, soaked into that lone piece of bread, but I 
could get no satisfaction from his philosophy. The com- 
bination did not tempt the appetite of a hungry man. 
Had it not been for the fruit which the bounty of the old 
Malay had provided we should have fared sadly indeed. 
To while away the time we talked with him, much to 
his surprise, for why should two white travelers deign to 
converse with him, a copper-colored native? This is a 
question which orientals are not called upon often to 
answer. 
We asked him where the hot water in the spring came 
from. He looked up with a smile and shaking his head 
answered: "Itu tuhan allah punia tahu" — "That is the 
knowledge of God." 
We bathed and then strolled down the road over be- 
yond a bridge where I saw a rare and beautiful butterfly, 
but my efforts to catch it only drove it into the thicket, 
The sun was beginning to sink into the west. It was the 
time of day when, as the natives say, the buffalo go down 
to the water. The herons were flying noiselessly home- 
ward over the stretch of meadow, and the monkeys began 
to chatter in the woods. • Our driver "poked" the bullocks 
and we clambered into the cart and rolled away into the 
"Eeserve." The meadow was shut out by the jungle, the 
bungalows and palm trees faded next, and theg. aptihing 
