describe the method of collecting and tude. The notes were gathered at varicollaborating the data embodied in the preceding pages. The Yumas are extremely reticent about their personal affairs, and it became necessary to approach them with extreme caution. Dis A YUMA SCHOOLGIRL. covering that the meager abilities of the interpreters were altogether insufficient to cope with the translating of abstract subjects, the writer was compelled to study the language for the purpose of supplying the missing words,-an undertaking in itself of no mean magni ous times during the past eighteen months as circumstances permitted. Frequent visits were made to the various districts, where the principal men were interviewed again and again, and every fact subsequently verified by two or more persons at separate hearings before final acceptance. Necessarily, many interesting items from loquacious and unreliable individuals were discarded and only those retained that could be thoroughly substantiated. Captain Charley, or Zoo-mitz-con-neh, meaning "He who keeps straight," was the most intelligent and useful of the interpreters. His recent death will greatly complicate further research among this interesting people. Acknowledgement is hereby gratefully made to Messrs. Emil Riedel, Dr. J. H. Taggart, Dr. P. G. Cotter, Hon. J. H. Dorrington, O. F. Townsend, and others, for valuable aid and many courtesies extended while collecting material and information. WHO DIED AT WEISSTHURM? It is not strange that, being of a practical, retiring nature, I should deliberate seriously before giving to the world an experience that would justify my most intimate friends in doubting my veracity, if not my sanity. Having thought of little else for the past months-in fact, ever since I was in Europe - I have finally decided to publish the exact circumstances of the case, in hopes that some student of metaphysics may be able to offer a reasonable solution of what is wholly inexplicable to me. Many of the members of the Bohemian Club of San Francisco will undoubtedly remember Adrian Sears, who was one of their number a few years ago. His tragic death in the spring of 1883 must have indelibly stamped his memory on the minds of such, even if the remarkable personal characteristics of the man failed to do so. I own to having felt an exceptional interest in him from the first. Take it all in all, I have never before or since met one who struck me as being so singularly unlike the generality of men. It was not long before I was conscious that he exerted an extraordinary influence over my son Eugene, who was then barely twenty-five, while Sears, though looking much younger, could hardly have been less than ten years his senior. The rare conversational gifts, superb physique (Eugene, to his eternal chagrin, was a small man), and unaffected disregard for conventionalities, that were conspicuous traits in Adrian, had a peculiar charm for the other, whose imagination supplied in his friend any absence of those finer mental colorings that verge on the region of spirit. There was always an undefinable something in Sears that jarred on my instincts, and often caused me to regret their intimacy, though I admired no less his originality of thought and attractive manners. We all knew him to be a deeper thinker than most of us, and in looking back to our almost daily association with him, I am convinced that there was not one of us, not even excepting that dear old dogmatic Nelson, but would fairly acknowledge that in more or less degree he was swayed by the irresistible magnetism of this man. He was the centripetal force, for instance, that drew us all at that time into the maelstrom of mysticism, embracing the entire range of occult phenomena, psychological, cosmical, physical, and spiritual, from Egyptian mysteries down to the latest marvel in modern spiritualism. He had evidently spared neither time nor expense in his efforts toward the elucidation of these so-called supernatural problems. In his extensive travels he professed to have been eye-witness to certain feats performed by the naked, semi-barbarous sons of the East, compared to which the ingenious tricks of professional wizards in other lands would be the merest child's play. The most extravagant statement appears not altogether improbable, when made in the cultured voice of one of recognized judgment and brains, who unhesitatingly prefaces it with the assertion "I saw," or " I heard." While not prepared to accept his individual deductions, we always found a mutual enjoyment in such conversations. My own mind had been trained from earliest years in the direct line of exact and positive science, and therefore was not readily deluded by what I conceived to be a bold and fascinating philosophy, devoid of other foundation than is found in a vivid and diseased imagination. "And yet," Adrian would affirm with impatience, "it is just such men that occultism needs to record and classify her numerous facts; but the neck of science has a permanent crook, from her endless dissection of inert matter. To her obscure vision the akasa of the kabalist means nothing more than a tangible core to the whole." I recollect one evening in particular that has some connection with the strange sequel of our acquaintance with him. A half dozen of us were lounging around the club parlors after the rest had gone home. The rain outside whipped the window panes, rushed in torrents over the eaves, and rolled a turbulent flood along the street gutters. We were not inclined to venture forth in such an avalanche of water, so we refilled our pipes, piled more coal in the grate, and told Adrian to go ahead. He stood with his back to the fire, which now and then snapped viciously at his heels, and was finishing a narration of how an Indian fakir in Thibet made a mango seed grow from a sprout to ma turity in less than twenty minutes. "And this was done in the presence of myself and companion, in my own room, the mango stone being planted in one of my flower pots, that I had first filled with common garden mold. And more," he added, his brilliant eyes searching ours, and in some mysterious. way fixing the gaze of each simultaneously, "we both ate of the fruit of this magical mango, and can emphatically attest its genuineness." Then he went on to give his reasons for thinking this supposed miracle could be effected within the pale of natural law. He compelled us to climb with him the steepest heights, tread the maziest pathways, and leap the dizziest chasms, in the whole labyrinth of the occult philosophies, racing on from one to another with a versatility and rapidity that made us pant visibly. left so living an impression behind. recall him as he looked then, with an accuracy that is electric. His tall form is lean almost to gauntness, and shows an exaggeration of nervous fiber, through which his rich vitality gives play to each supple joint and taut muscle; not an ounce of flesh to spare, and his every movement, even to the lightest gesture of his long, flexile hand, is made with an alertness that betrays the instant subservience to his will of every atom of his body. Such perfection of motion makes an ordinary man curse himself, for being in comparison but a mass of articulated wooden blocks. His excitement does not tinge the pallor of his complexion, but rather deepens it to a dead white, out of which the piercing dark eyes seem to grasp you with the insistence of actual hands. His luxuriant red beard is carefully parted at the cleft in the chin, and a full moustache barely conceals the pale lines of a cruel, passionate mouth. The abrupt shelving of his forehead to form the cliff-like brows, is partly relieved by the abundance of his fine, straight hair. Its color is of so light an auburn that it reflects grayish tints. The light from the chandelier makes it appear positively white. This specter of my memory repeats also the exact words that fell from his lips on this occasion: "We are not justified in limiting human capacity, which experience proves surprisingly elastic at times. If the sages of the Orient are right, we have all lived through previous existences, and in our present Karma are heaped the results of acts committed eons ago in the past." Just here Holland interrupted him by drawlingly remarking: "I believe, old fellow, you are about right, and I insist that a visible re-incarnation is taking place in you at this moment. You speak with the tongue of Apuleius, and your hair is already bleached like his veneraI never knew any other dead man that ble locks. Of a verity we hail the author quality of melody that was sweeter than the singing of most women. I was puzzled to define just wherein she reminded of 'Du Dieu de Socrate' in the once youthful Adrian!"-with a melodramatic flourish of voice and hand. Sears received this good-natured sally me of Adrian. Certainly the similitude with unexpected warmth. "What the devil do you mean, sir?" - while an unmistakable look of terror swept over his face. Of course, poor little Holland apologized for his unintentional offense, and Adrian, not without an effort, regained his equipoise. "I don't mind death, you all know," he said, as though unwillingly forced to offer an excuse for his irritability, "but to be old would be too severe a penalty for even my sins." I never doubted his lion-like bravery then; I do not now; but this ungovernable fear of the inevitable seemed to me absurdly unreasonable and childish. Did it spring from inordinate vanity, or from some superstition connected with his peculiar beliefs? The inharmony caused by this incident vanished with the return of his graceful tact and incomparable charm of manner, and we all parted for the night with the best of feeling. I do not think that it was long after this that we met Davelle Garsey at one of Mrs. Vincent's delightful Wednesday nights. Mrs. Vincent had taken quite a fancy to Adrian Sears, and it was through him that Mrs. Garsey had been introduced to so select a circle. She was the widow of an English naval officer, herself of French extraction, and had but recently come to this Coast. No longer young, she yet possessed that far more dangerous attraction that comes to a few women in the noon of life, and but increases as the shadows lengthen toward a mellow sunset. One had only to look into her proud, dusky eyes, to be sure that somewhere down in their depths there was hidden a remorse or sorrow that serpent-like had coiled around the flower of her life and crushed out all its perfume. She spoke little, which was a pity, I thought, for her voice had a rare did not lie in face nor figure, but more nearly approached that "like in difference" that is often seen in two who have long been intimately associated. During their first evening together Eugene hardly left Mrs. Garsey's side. He behaved like one who had been drinking champagne. His drollery and wit made him the life of the party. In the month that followed he was depressed and gay by turns, and was altogether so restless and unlike himself that it was impossible longer to observe the regular habits that we had shared alike ever since the grave of his mother closed all other interests for me but those that centered around our boy. This companionship had built up a stronger tie between us than is common to father and son. My practice was large, and I found his younger brains. and energy of great assistance to me. In time I hoped to resign to him all my active duties, and devote the remainder of my days to study and rest. His infatuation for Davelle Garsey did not promise to further my plans. One could not picture her as a suitable wife to a young, conscientious physician. The love a man feels for such a woman is apt to burn out every other consideration in the fierce fervor of its flame. How earnestly I wished that his choice had been any one of the sweet, wholesome girls that we both knew! Until a certain dinner at Mrs. Vincent's I had no evidence of any bond between Mrs. Garsey and Adrian Sears other than a feeling of good fellowship that is natural to people whom chance. had thrown together abroad, and who unexpectedly met again among congenial friends. We were lingering at the dessert when Holland, who was probably reminded of the story by the pickled mango he was eating, begged Adrian to repeat the "yarn about that At last I said, tenderly enough, Heaven awfully precocious mango tree." Sears laughingly complied, and as a matter of course was deluged with questions. He sat at the right of Davelle Garsey, who was next to me. "How many mangoes did you say it bore?" asked our pretty hostess excitedly. "One, I think," he replied, as if doubtful of his recollection. "Two!" I distinctly heard Mrs. Garsey supplement the word in an under tone. "No, there were two," he added positively. My curious gaze was riveted on her face. She was aware of it and flushed painfully. I was then convinced that she was the companion he had before mentioned as with hini at the time. It was with a heart-throb of pity that I glanced across at Eugene. His eyes were hungrily seeking hers. Never before had I felt so utterly impotent to influence him. I knew beyond peradventure that love acknowledges but one master, and that is its object. That night Eugene came into my room before retiring. For some minutes we both sat watching the twisting tongues of flame chase each other up the chimney. Then he turned to me, and I read in his eyes what his lips hastened to confirm : "You have seen how it has been with me lately, father, and with your unfailing wisdom let me have my own way, for which I cannot express my gratitude. For weeks I have been living alternately in hell and heaven, but it is all over now, thank God for tonight she promised to be my wife." His voice was a little shaken by his emotion, and sounded solemn in spite of its joyous ring. Are we ever sufficiently forewarned to prevent the shock of great news? I was pained and speechless. Eugene waited in silence, and finally laid his hand gently on the arm of my chair. knows, "Are you sure, Eugene, that she is what you need in a wife, -that she will be to you what your mother was to me?" He broke out passionately, almost brutally, "I am only sure that I love her beyond my eternal soul, - beyond what you are capable of understanding!" His nervous fingers wrenched at the carved wood. I took his hand firmly in mine and hurried on earnestly, "Eugene, I hardly know how to express what, after all, is little more than an instinct with me; but I would stake my oath on this woman's being something to Adrian Sears, - something we do not like to name even to each other." He sprang up wildly, throwing off my hand with a look of abhorrence and hatred that almost unmanned me. "That will do!" he cried harshly. "A word more such as you have spoken and I shall forget that you are my father." There was a desperation in his words, in his manner, that went to my heart. I replied soothingly, and partially succeeded in restoring his self-control, though he was moody and constrained during the short interval that he remained in the room. The day following this stormy interview, Sears told us he was preparing to go East, where, he confidentially told us, he was soon to marry a rich cousin to whom he had long been engaged. I wondered if Mrs. Garsey were aware of this prospective marriage, and determined to sound her at my earliest opportunity. Fortunately I found her in Mrs. Vincent's conservatory when I called. After a few commonplaces, I said easily: "By the way, our friend Adrian is to be congratulated. He told me only this morning that the real issue of this Eastern trip is his marriage to his cousin Helen in New York." Her great eyes, unspeakably suffering, were raised for an instant to mine, |