Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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BY E. B. MTJBBAY & CO. ANDEBSON, S. C, THUBSDAY MOENING, APBIL 29, 1880. VOLUME XV.?NO. 42. THE KING OF THE DEAD. Last August I wa9 shooting prairie chickens in Southern Kansas. A thun? der storm came sweeping out of the north? west. I took shelter in a little roadside inn. Time hangiog heavily on me, I read and reread the county papers that littered tbe table in the small bar-room Earlor. Beading tbe list of marriages, irths and deaths, I found among the latter the name John 0. Zalmack, aged thirty-six years. In another column was this announcement: Suicide.?Last night John C. Zalmack returned to his cattle raocb, taking with him a bottle of poisoned whiskey. He had "swore off," and said that if he found he could not resist the desire for alcohol he would drink of the poisoned liquor and die. In the morning his dead body lay across his bed. Sitting by a window watching the fierce storu. I musingly repeated the name John C. Zalmack. It sounded very fa? miliar. Questioning the landlord of tbe inn, I was soon in possession of the little he knew of the history of the dead man, and learned that he was commonly called Jack Zalmack. Instantly the veil lifted from my memory, and brave Jack Zalmack,- -miner of the Northern Rocky Mountains, stood fourth. I knew him well. Years ago I was among tbe . Coeur d'Alene Mountains of Northern Idaho, searching for a mountain of iron ore that common report located there. One evening soon after sunset I rode up to the brink of a deep canon. By my feet a tiny stream of cold water poured over the edge of t' e rock, disappear? ing from my sight as it sank into tbe ut? ter blackness beneath me, a rope of wav? ing,' bubbling foam. I camped, and having been unsuccessful in shootiug and fishing, I lay snpperless in my blankets, smoking my pipe. My horse grazed about me, or, coming to the fire, stood with hangirjg head, and looked at me with mournfully lonesome eyes. Again he would walk; to my blankets, and I would caress him' as . his head hung over me. I was* very lonely. .The isolation of my life was affecting my nerves. I heard strange sounds, and as the night grew old I fancied I saw uncanny objects hovering aroubd my fire or crouching under the bushes, waiting for a favorable opportunity to spring upon me. I was neither asleep nor yet awake. While I was resting physically my brain was amusing itself by creating horrors to frighten my body. Tbe days I had spent in the Blackibot Indian coun? try, where light sleep, wakeful sleep, was the price of my life had tried my nerves severely. I heard tbe light patter of a wolfs feet, then a quick, sharp sniff be? hind me. My horse, with loud snorts, ran toward me. Turning over on my breast, my rifle came to my shoulder, and an ounce ball crashed between the glaring eyes of the black midnight prowl? er. I arose, rebuilt my fire, and sat waiting for the early dawn of a Northern summer to break. Out from tbe black abyss at my feet rolled up a volume of cries so fiendish that my blood chilled and little waves of icy coldness chased each other up my spine. With a great ground swell of a chill rolling through me from right to left, I recovered myself, say? ing "Curse those panthers 1 What a start the/ gave me! I have been alone too long. This will not do." With a final shudder I drew a pair of heavy Oregon blankets around me and sat motionless. Again the cries from the chasm. This time I heard the words: "Help! help! help I Ob, my God!" I lay down, and with anxious eyes peered into the gloom beneath me. I could see nothing. I heard a voice raised high in piteous appeals, saying: "Do not strike me. Don't I don't 1" Then louder, in despair, 8bouting: "Help! help! Oh my God!" Then a succession of screams as though some mortal was enduring the torments of the orthodox hell. I lay lis? tening. My horse stood alongside of me, peering down with wide-opened eyes, his nervous ears cocked forward. At short intervals the cries and appeals for help were repeated. Faint dawn came. Look? ing into the canon I could see the line of blackness descending lower and lower until tbe tops of the mighty evergreens at the bottom could be seen, looking like great black domes. Lighter, but still not light enough to clear away the shad? ows from the bottom of the canon. Tbe pines behind me cast their shadows across the chasm on tbe red wall of basaltic reck opposite me before I could see plainly to the bottom of the rift in the rocks. Fifteen hundred feet below me lay a narrow valley. A torrent pour? ed over its rocky bed looking like a long, undulating white serpent gliding in and out among the pines. Agiirase of it be? low me, then lost to view, to flash out in pure white through its partial screen of evergreens far down the valley. Little meadows of bunch grass and patches of thorn buShes, with scarlet berries thick? ly studded over them, checkered the bot? tom of the canon in brown and green. Two horses grazed on one of these gras? sy lawns; one a solid white, the other a black with four white stockings and a blazed face. A roll of blankets, a little pile of flour and bacon in sacks, some cooking utensils, two saddles, one a saw buck pack saddle; and a keg lay on the {'round by a clump of pine-trees. Still ying on tbe Verge of the abyss, I searched the valley with my g^lass to my eyes. By a rock on tbe river side I saw a miner's prospect pan, a shovel, and a pick. I could not see the human being I bad heard crying so loudly in the night. Walking back to my plankets, I picked up my rifle and started on a hunt for my breakfast. Again I heard, and the air seemed to quiver with the sound as it rolled up from the canon the cries, "Help! Help! Help I Oh ray God!" Hurrying back to the top of the cliff I looked over and saw a naked man standing in the shallow water by the bank of the little river. Putting ray glass on him, I stood waiting and listening. His screams were incessant. He soon rushed out of the water with arms held above his head, as if to protect it from a savage blow. Reaching the meadow laud, he suddenly turned on the (by me unseen) object pursuing him, and struck savage blows in the air with his clenched hands; then, falling on bis knees, be covered his head with bis arms and implored for mercy. Apparently it was not granted, as be jumped to his feet and ran swiftly into the thorn bushes, where be crouched down. He arose, and, steathily walking toward the pile of camp equipage, with a bound and a yell of tri? umph, seized a gun and rushed toward a tree, throwing the gun to his shuulder. I saw two little puffs of white smoke, and directly after the dull reports of a double barrelled shot-gun came floating up to me. Standing an instant, he seemed tu be undecided what to do. Then, clubbing his gun, he rushed mad? ly to the tree. His wild yell of rage and fear struck harshly on my ears before he reached the evergreen. When close to it, he struck savagely at its trunk, breaking the stock and bending the barrels of the gun. Dropping the useless weapon, he ran with great speed into the forest cry jug: "Dou't! don't! don't! Help .'help! help!" fgnorant of tho trail, if there was one, j that led into the canon, I remained stand? ing on the verge of the cliff while I thought out the probable lay of the land. To the south the canon narrowed, the country evidently grew more rugged, and the timber thickened. To the north the canon widened, and the walls seemed to be less precipitous. Following the wind? ings of the stream as closely as possible with ray eyes, I came to the conclusion that some four or five rules further north it would be possible to descend to the stream ; then, by riding up the val? ley, I could get to the camp of the afflict ted miner. While settling this, I frequent? ly saw the naked man running quickly from tree to tree, or crouching under the thorn bushes like an animal in fear. Once he sneaked to the river, where he picked up a stone. With a cry of com? bat, he rushed at the tree he had at? tacked with a shot-gun. As he passed he hurled the rock with great force against its trunk. Runniug toward the western wall of the cabin, be disappear? ed among the thorn bushes. Saddling my horse, I rode back into the mountains and slowly picked my way to the north along mountain flanks, over burnt lands where extensive timber fires had raged, causing the unconsumed portions of the trees to fall in a tangle like jack straws. An intense desire to get to this man, to aid him in his imagi? nary flight, had taken possession of me. I was no longer hungry or nervous. Pushing on as rapidly as I could for two hours, I turned and rode westward to ware the canon. I had ridden past its mouth. The precipitous walls broke off abruptly,. and with a grand swell carved back into mountain slopes that extended down to the river. Dismount? ing I led my horse down the steep moun? tain side, and was soon at the stream in the valley. Fording the river aud find? ing a good trail on the other side, I rode rapidly up it on a canter. Arriving at the camp of the miner; I reined in my horse and sat on the animal, anxiously looking around. I saw the naked man crouched under some bushes, and rode over to him. He at once regarded me as a friend and reinforcement, and told me his trou? bles. Instantly I saw that he was suffering with delirium tremens. He was.crazy. and, though in his camp, lost. He did not know where his clothes were; did not realize that he was naked. With vivid distinctness he described to me a giant clad in armor, with a bright tin helmet on his head, who was armed with an immense club, and who had been trying to kill him. He volunteered to show this giant to me. Walking along? side of my horse, his trembling hand resting on ray thigh, he seemed to be unconscious of pain, apparently not feel? ing the bleeding, swollen feet, or the lac? erated skin, deeply scratched by the thorns as he rushed through the bushes in his mad flights from the specters created by his disordered brain. With a sud? den pressure of his band on my leg, he said, "Stop!" With an animal gleam of fear and hatred in his eyes, he pointed with outstretched, trembling arm to the pine he had shot at in the morning, and in a dry, husky whisper said: "There he is! See the great club he has in his hand. He is going to strike me 1 Shoot! 9hoot! shoot!" and he grabbed at my rifle. Not securing it, he ran behind my horse and crouched down, whispering hoarsely: "Do not let him strike me! Oh, my God 1" Thoroughly alarmed for the life of the man, I dismounted, unsad? dled and led my horse to the river for water. The naked man followed close behind. [ found bis clothes in a little pile behind a boulder by the river bank. I coaxed aim to put them on, which he did, with my assistance. Getting him into his camp, I easily induced him to lie down. Finding the keg to De filled with whisky, I drew some, and made a strong toddy, which he drank at my request. I gave him whiskey in moderation, and coaxed him to eat a little trout I caught in the river. I worked over him for two days, until he finally slept for a few hours. As soon as he awoke I gave him a little whiskey. He was in his. right mind, but dreadfully nervous. Two days more pass? ed and he was himself again?emaucia* ted, sore, exhausted, bul. his nerves were comparatively steady. He still needed some one to lean on, someone to be with. When I proposed to leave him, he object? ed, saying, "I cau not endure being alone yet; I will go with you for a week or two." We catched his provisions. I emptied his whiskey keg into the river. Mounting onr horses, we rode into the mountains. As he regained his strength and his mind became clear, I found him to be singularly well informed. Our last night together we spent on an island in Lake Pen d'Oreille. That night as we sat by the camp fire listening to the little waves hissing on the pebbly shore, and watching the shadows cast by the moun? tains on the waters of the lake, ho told me of his trial in the canon. "I had been prospecting for placer gold. I had been drinking freely for some days. Resolved to stop, I did so. The next morning, after a night spent in short, feverish naps, broken with dreams of the most horrible description, I arose very nervous and weak. Thinking that a bath in the cold water of the torrent would be beneficial, and probably restore the tone of my nervous system, I wearily tottered to the river bank. Undressing myself, I sat on a rock and looked into the water. It swarmed with sea serpeuts, sharks and devil-fish. An occasional semi-human face, surmounting a shapeless body, grinned at me from among the reptiles, or with lolling tongue cast scorn? ful glances at me. Alarmed at my con? dition I forced myself into the water. The spectres retreated before me.? Hearing a loud shout, and many voices behind me crying, 'Here he is; now we have got him/ I turned to see the narrow valley filled with giants all with tin hel? mets on their heads. I never doubted the reality of these spectres. The leader of these giants had a great club in bis hand, and struck murderously at me. All the others grinned and nodded, and sig? nificantly patted their stomachs. Look? ing up the valley, then down, I saw thousands of these creatures. Rushing from the water, I ran to my camp. Grasping the gun I opened fire on them, clearing my valley of all except the leader. Driven wild by the relentless pursuit car? ried on by this cannibalistic giant who ever struck at me with his club, I fre 3uently attacked him. Sometimes I was riven into the river. Then I marshalled thegenii of the waters, aud they opposed the giant, driving him far back into the for? est. The friendly genii would suddenly transform themselves into carnivorous reptiles, intent ou eating me. Then I would arm myself with rocks, and, rushing madly out of the stream would hurl them at the giant who would en? deavor to smite me to the ground as I skurried past, intent on hiding in the timber. In my demeuted condition I could not find my camp, except at rare intervals, when I stumbled on it in flights to and from the river." We got into a canoe and slowly pad? dled over tho lake, fishing for our breakfast. As we finished Zalmackin low tones told me of the sufferings he had en? dured from a disease bequeathed to him by a drinking father. The love of alcohol was born in him. At school, not know? ing the danger he was in, he frequently went on boyish frolics. As he grew older he weakened his power of resis? tance by thoughtlessly giving away to the slight craving he at times had for liquor. At last, when he was thoroughly alarm? ed for his safety, he found that the de? sire for alcohol was almost irresistible. Again and again he yielded to the crav? ing, each time saying that this would j be the last tim,e. Then he would "swear off." Soon he would look kindly on beer or ale or wine; then he would take "just one glass," and before he realized it whiskey would be drank like water. Recovering from that spree, he would Boon believe it was a mishap, purely accidental, and would try it again, al? ways with the same result;. It was not beer or wine or whiskey he craved; it was alcohol, and of this drug the least quantity fanned the smoldering fierceness of his desire into imperative demand that he could not resist. He could give up the use of alcohol for a few weeks, some? times for months; then he would feel the spell, the glamour the alcohol cast be? fore it, coming on gradually, taking pos? session of, and haunting him day and night, luring him to hi3 destruction. Daily he argued with himself, fighting stubbornly over each point, and daily the alcoholic portion of his brain out argued the non-alcoholic. The desire for alcohol grew more intense, and the craving for the poison invariably culmi? nated in an attack that, be had no more power to resist than he would have to resist a malaria chill. We had caught some fish, and ceas? ing paddling we sat idly in the canoe, drifting before a light wind. Zalmack talked very despondently of his future, dwelling with great bitterness on the mortification he had endured, of the sense of degradation he suffered under. Sitting motionless in the canoe, he tried to see his future, talking the while as his imagination pictured painful scenes in the lite be had before him. I cheered him as best I could. It wasa case of hered? itary disease that I did not believe there was any relief for. During the war I had an army friend, a captain of artil? lery, who was afflicted with this dis? ease. Worn out with repeated defeats, he, feeliug the glamour of alcohol com? ing on, and having determined not to again endure the deep mortification re? sultant from a disgraceful spree, went into his quarters at Fort Henry and blew his brains out. Zalmack's case I thought was similar. The next morning we parted. I agreed to be in Missoula on a certain day if possible, and together we were to travel up the Lou Lou Fork of the Bitter Root River. My work would be fin? ished, and we had planned a chicken and deer hunt. One bright October day I rode out of the Jocko country. Passing through the Coriacan Defile, I descended into the valley of the Missoula. Great flocks of grouse took wing from the grass before me. Fool hens Bat stupidly in spruce trees and looked at me. In the distance a threshing machine was loudly bumming. I could see the small verti? cal column of dust rising high above the separator. Farm houses and barns nes? tled at the base of the hills. Clear, cool water flowed sluggishly in the irrigating ditches. It was the first glimpse of civ ization I had seen for some months, and I rode along the old Indian trail elated. The frosty air, the rustle of the dry her? bage, the leafless trees, and the dark, pine clad mountains of the Bitter Root Rango in the distance all stimulated my light hear tedncss. Cantering briskly over the dusty trail I was soon in Missoula. Put? ting my horse in a stable I walked to the hotel and inquired for my friend. He had been in town a week; had been on a spree, and was then up stairs suffering with the damnable disease of distilla? tion?delirium tremens. Sorrowfully I mounted the rickety stairs. In a meanly furnished room that was.foul-smelling and ill-ventilated, Zal? mack lay on a hard bed, tossing, moan? ing, and cravenly begging, by us unseen spectators, to be merciful. He was nursed by two sympathetic miners. Zalmack lay and mourned, or in terse language described the phantoms that haunted him. The corpse of a friend he had buried a few weeks previously floated in the air before him, and beckoned bim with black, swollen hands, to descend to hell; or, thrusting the rotten ragged tongue from out of its foul mouth, the bursted eye? balls turned to him and the engorged lids slowly and repeatedly winked at him. His description 01 the grating of the bones of the neck and jaws, of the actions of this naked mass of corruption, as the spec? tre nodded aud grinned at him, or heav? ily danced around his bed, was horrible. With a great cry of terror, Zalmack sat up shouting that the head of the corpse had fallen off and rolled under the bed, while serpents, lizards, and poisonous toads swarmed out of the neck of the headless trunk. He screamed to us to keep them off of him. The rough nurses laughed heartily, and said it was "a rum go." Knowing the sensitive, nervous organization of the man, I was deeply distressed. Isn-keto him. He started, seemed to retjgnize my voice, then lost me. With a mighty effort he endeavored to grasp his intellect. I could see him strive to get control of it. The diseased mind could not clear itself of the wreck produced by the alcohol. The delicate organ was disordered. It was as if an iron wedge bad been thrown into a mass of cog-wheels of a delicate machine, destroying the balance, causing some wheels to madly whirl around, others to stand still. So with this fine brain. The alcohol had clogged all of it except the fervent imagination, which was reeling off a panorama of horrible pictures. Speaking to the nurses, I said I would watch him that night. Smil? ingly they replied, "You can not stand it alone." I would try. They could sleep in the next room, and if I found I could not eudure the awful pictures he painted I would ?all to them. At 10 o'clock I entered the room. The miners left. I heard them throw themselves wearily on their hard bed. Soon they snored. Openiug the window for fresh air, I sat looking out smoking the while. The doctor came, gave Zalmack some drug, bid me good-night, and I was alone with my friend. Eleven o'clock, 12 o'clock, 1 o'clock struck on the clock in the din? ing room down stairs, and reverberated through the dark, silent house. The air was still trembling and softly humming after the stroke one, when Zalmack with a bound sat up, recognized me, and in an unearthly whispei that made my blood chill, said, "Frank, the clock has struck one. Now they will appear." With out? stretched arm he pointed to the door: with terror-stricken face and bloodless lips ho counted the rotten unshrouJed dead as they stalked into his room and stood in their foul nakedness at his bed? side. Then with a rapt, terrified expres? sion on his face he whispered : "Listen to the King of them rustle as he walks." Instinctively, I listened as he did. With his arm still outstretched, he fol? lowed the supposed sound with his hand. By his motions I could Fee it come up the stairs and down the hall. As it en? tered the room his arm fell on the bed, and his eyes retreated before the advance I of this spectre of a sound to his bedside and with an unearthly cry, he fell back on his pillow, saying, "it takes shape. It is the King of the Dead. It is a gigan? tic brandy bottle filled with the diseased braius of drunkards." I endured the sceucs this disordered imagination conjured up iu quick suc? cession until about 3 o'clock. By that time I was so nervous that I really believe that I would have seeu the horrible phan? toms he saw, if I remained with him a few minutes longer. Unable to endure it, I hastily stepped into the hall and kicked against the door of the roo\: .vhere the two miners slept. Awaking them, I declared that I must have company? that I could not endure the spectres, as Zalmack painted them, alone. Without grumbling, without an impatient word, the men got up. Throwing the light of a candle up to my face, they said, "You had better go get a drink of whiskey to steady your nerves. Bring a drink of medicine for Zalmack with you when you return." That night of watching uustrunq ray nerves for a week. Zalmack finally re coverd, and all he remembered, except the creatures created by his imagination (and these were ever fresh to him), was that he had seeu me for an instant, lie suffered greatly from remorse and morti? fication. Deep was the humiliation he endured. He sat by my side one even? ing as we ate our supper by the hot springs of the Lou Lou Fork of the Bitter Root, and wondred what the end of bis trouble would be. I suspected the ulti? mate result of alcohol on his fine nervous organization; but I cheered him, en? couraged bim to keep up his fight. Gently, lovingly, sorrowfully he spoke of his dead parents; whose sole inheri? tance to him was this disease, and he thanked God that he had no children for it to descend to. His life in Kansas bad been bitterly hard. Having made a little fortune in the placer mines of Montana, he deter? mined to leave the mountains, where he was exposed to many temptations. He came to Kansas, and, buying a herd of cattle, tended them. But the longing, the loud calls made by bis diseased, brain for alcohol at stated times, could not be resisted. Repeatedly he fell. None knew the struggle, the continual fight, be kept up. Tired, worn out, discouraged, he finally decided to kill himself rather than endure the humiliation resultant from another spree. He did so. Un? thinking people called him a drunkard, an outcast. They said he drank himself to death?a mistake too commonly made. He was the victim of an hereditary dis? ease beyond the skill of ?se physicians. frank Wilkeson. The Hovels of Ireland. Mr. James Redpath describes in his last letter a ride in the Parish of Island addy, in the County Mayo, which he visited in conducting his investigations of the Irish famine for the New York Tribune. He gives a vivid glimpse of the destitution of the Irish peasantry?all the stronger as he makes no effort at picturesque description, butgives rather a catalogue of effects than an artistic pic? ture. We quote: "There were still more dreadful scenes in the other cabins. 1 know no farmer in the East or West who keeps his cattle in such foul stables. And yet children and infants, and mothers and stalwart workingmen?not beggars, but honest fellows, willing and eager to work?have been born and reared and married in these dreadful dens, none of them hav? ing any other floors save the cold blaCk earth; none of them having windows lar? ger than two feet by eighteen inches, and nearly all of them having cows or horses or donkeys in the same room, un? divided either by a stone wall or a parti? tion of any kind. Heaps of oozing muck at the doors! The last cabin filled me with dismay. It was dark and dirty and small. There were little heaps of what is called 'bog deal,' and furze, as fuel, and a little peat fire. 'Bog deal' is the roots of ancient fir trees that have been pre? served in the moist bog. No one remem? bers when tbe fir trees grew. They dis? appeared a generation ago. An old wo? man, at least seventy years old, with white hair, discolored by the smoke of the cabin, and clad in foul rags, with her bare feet on the wet floor, haggard and hideous from want, sat on an old ricketty chair, and told me she had been twice married?once to a man named Conway, once to a man named Flynn, and that she had two sons, one by each husband, in the United States. They had not written to her for years, she said, but had left her, in her decripit age, to beg alms or to starve. One of these sons lives in Scranton, the other in Philadelphia. Her grand-daughter, a beautiful young girl of fourteen or sixteen, was working with a spade in the garden. There are very few girls with refined features and intelligent expressions in these hovels. But it is pathetic to meet a girl such as this girl, who, if born in America and educated in our public school*, would in all human probability have become the honored and admired mother' of a wealthy home. This girl's beauty would almost have guaranteed her that rank in America. Twenty years hence, if she lives here, she will be ugly and wrinkled like the rest. On Sunday I saw an old woman and man, with their young son, sitting around a basket, the lid of which, inverted, held their Sunday dinner.? There was a saucer in it. It held salt water?common salt dissolved. The rest of the meal consisted of cold potatoes; that was all. I recalled it as I saw the little children of one of these hovels crowded around the pot with the cold Indian meal porridge. When I went back to the hotel a Castlebar banker told me that'there was far les3 distress than was talked about, and that Ireland had never been better off'" What There is in Wheat.?The wheat grain is a fruit consisting of a seed and its covering. All the middle part of tbe grain is occupied by large, thin cells full of a powdery substance, which con? tains all the starch of the wheat. Out? side the central starchy mass is a single row of squarish cells filled with a yellow? ish material, very rich in nitrogenous, that is, flesh-lorming matter. Beyond this again there are six thin coats or cov? erings coutaiuing much mineral matter, both of potash and phosphates. The outermost coat is of but little value. The mill products of these coverings of the seed are peculiarly rich in nutriment, aud fine flour is robbed of a large percentage of valuable and nutritious food. Mid? dlings not only contain more fibrin and mineral matter than fine flour, but also more fat. The fibrous matter or outer coat, which is indigestible, forms one sixth of the bran but not one-hundredth of the fine flour. Wheat contains the greatest quantity of gluten aud the small? est of starch ; rye, a medium proportion of both, while in barley, oats and corn, the smallest proportion of and the small? est of gluten arc to be found. In prac? tice 100 pounds of flour wilt make from lo'.i to 137 pounds of bread ; a goud aver? age being 136 pound-?; hence n barrel of 190 pounds should yield 260 one-pound loaves. A SLAP AT THE BLOODY SHIRT. Mr. Talmatro Roturni from the South to Remark Upon the Vigor nnel Immensity of Stalwart Lying. Mr. Talmnge directed Ins congregation yesterday to sing, "My country, 'tis of thee," said his text?Judges i., 15? and continued as follows: "To meet engagements in nine of the Southern cities and to catch a glimpse of the South land in the Spring time, I made a trip two weeks long below Mason and Dixon's line. I went equipped with questions and hungry for information on moral and religious and political sub? jects. I had a grave to visit in Georgia, that of my uncle, Dr. Samuel K. Tal raage, for twenty years President of Oglethorpe University. When the war for slavery broke out he lay down near the scene of lu3 usefulness. He was one of those who are the adornment of the Southern pulpit. Such men as Jas. H. Thorn well and Smyth and Duncan and Pierce are to be mentioned with him. I went resolved to see and make a report of what I saw while South. I had no political record to look after or guard, for the career of my useful? ness has opened since the war closed. My admiration for the Democratic and Republican parties, as parties, is so great that it would take oue of McAllister's most powerful magnifying glasses to catch a glimpse of it. American politics is rotten. That party steals the most which has the best chance. [Applause] I found while South the most perfect proof that the bulk of the stories we get herein the North, distilled by special correspondents, are sheer fabrications and most persistent attempts to misrep? resent the real characterof a large section of.our people. There is no more need of governmental espionage at Charleston or Savannah and the other Southern cities than there is in New York or Boston. Some people have an idea that the senti? ment in the South leans towards the re establishment of negro slavery. Ah! the people are all heartily glad to get rid of it, and the plains now are placed under a better system of cultivation because it is gone. Old planters told me that the worry and anxiety aud the care and look? ing after a plantation of negroes is all gone, and now all they have to do is to pay the wages at the end of the month. Put it to ballot in the South whether or not you would have again the system which prevailed before the war and you would get a thundering negative. The fight for slavery closed sixteen years ago and those Northern politicians who keep the subject of American slavery still roll? ing might as well try to make the Door rebellion in Rhode Island or the attempt of Aaron Burr to found an empire a test for our Fall election. The whole subject of American slavery is dead and damned. The negro loves his work and his South. When we hear of rivers dragged and lakes to fish out colored men who have been flung in we get but sample stories of what the North is expected to believe of the South, but they are so ridiculous as hardly to need contradiction. There is no maltreatment of the colored people, and as for American slavery, look for it in your Northern cites among the army of employees. See your female clerks. They need your sympathy far more than the workers of the rice swamp or the sugar plantation. Find them on Fulton street, Brooklyn; Broadway, New York; Washington street, Boston; Chestnut street, Philadelphia. We want reforma ???n in all these places to protect the weak from tyrantical employers, and we had better begin our charity at home. "Another impression is that there is an hostility to Northern men who come to the South to settle. The impression is that they are to be ku-kluked orother wise made uncomfortable. It is a lie. They want all the help they can get from the North. They want the cotton spin? dles near the cotton fields and Northern men to manage and Northern girls to tend them. Of course, there is no more than here. A man may go down to a Southerner as be works in the field and begin his self-exultance, 'I'm from Bos? ton, I am; yes, I marched through this very section with my regiment; I remem? ber killing a heifer on your front stoop. What a good thrashiug we gave you, didn't we, now ?' Such a man as that, to say the least, would not get a very hearty welcome. He would not be chosen a deacon in the Church and it would not be surprising if he moved off on the most mobile section of a fence and came down without much attendance to the landing place. Yes, and I should be inclined to say he deserved it. (Applause.) A Brooklyn man is a good as a Mobile man if he behaves himself. There is not a more hospitable people in the world than the people of the South. (Ap? plause.) I bring to-day a general invi? tation to you all and all the North to go, to the South and settle down. Horace Greeley's cry of 'Go West' must be changed to 'Go South,' or rather added, for there is room enough all over. There are fortunes by the hundred to be made by the first men to go in to take posses? sion of the riches of the South. You Northern workers, go down where you can breathe. The fare is only $15, if you are not too particular how you travel. Afraid of heat? You have hotter days here than ever are there. Of fever? Wherever you go West, or South, you have an acclimation attack, and it is only a different kind of a shake, (Laughter.) Stop cursing the South, aud stop lying about her, and go South and develop her immense resources of miningand for? ests. (Applause.) Let your Northern young men settle down with the South? ern young women, and under the mag? nolia grove and the orange tree put your political feuds asleep in the cradle of a generation half North half South. (Ap? plause.) I hate to see these stories of the Southern people gotten up and kept up for base political purposes. (Ap? plause). Another wrong impression is that the people of the South are antago? nistic to the United States government. The people of the South submitted to the settlement of the sword and are sub? missive. If they 'eat fire' they keep a private platter of coals iu a private room. I sat down with them and the forks did not look as if they had stirred hot coals nor the spoons as though they had ladled fiery pap. The men of the South are working up, and you can see thcro men of forty and sixty years starting afresh in life. It is devilish in us to j call the temper of the South saturnine. I I have traveled a good deal and I have yet I to find a man North who has a fair ! ground of complaint against the South. (Applause.) I wish that what I say may be received in silence. I sometimes al? most wish for an invasion of foreign arms, to let the world see what a united people we are at heart and how the forces of Grant and Lee would march together and not against each other. "If a half dozen politicians North and South would only consent to die there would ho no more sectional acrimony. It would only be a case then for the un? dertakers. We would gladly fit up the j catafalque and play 'the Rouges March." ?New York World, April mh. ? The value of live stock in Georgia I h $21,017,034. admiration for fools and b: there Improved Cotton Culture. A practical planter who has thorough? ly studied the cotton question writes that there is no use attempting to beat around tbe bush any longer to avoid flatly stat? ing that there must be an improved sys? tem of cotton culture to make cotton an eminent ouccess in the American Cotton States?it intMt come. In the days of slavery the old system worked well enough, perhaps, but those days are of the past?the days of the present aro something entirely different, so far as re? lates to labor at least. The improved system must consist of better culture, greater economy in agri? cultural processes, a general practice of enriching lands by the application of fer? tilizing ageuts, the introduction of labor saving implements, and a thorough adap? tation to the changed condition of affairs generally. He believes this new system is coming; slowly, as must be admitted, but surely. Already it is beginning to show itself here and there at isolated points, where it is yielding valuable fruits. The planters are becoming roused to the necessities of the case, ana already a large proportion of them have taken at least one step in the right direc? tion?they are using fertilizers ; and the comparative value of these, with mode of application, and results upon different soils, are more eagerly canvassed than ever before. It is but fair to say that pecuniary inability has proved a bar to improvement dictated by the deliberate judgment of many planters. This writer also refers to the efforts of Mr. David Dickson, of Georgia, as an illustration of what may be done by a system of improved cotton culture. He says Mr. Dickson has produced the most successful results in growing corn, cotton, oats, potatoes, &c, on a larger scale for the last twenty years, of any one in this vicinity. He originated the mode which he has so successfully pursued and which is now .generally followed. It. is pecu? liar only in the fact that he gives more distance, both to corn and cotton, tban was formerly given; that he has used more manures, ploughed deeper in tbe preparation of the ground, cultivated shallower, and with more care for the young plant, especially, than our plant? ers generally have done. It is but just to him to add that these results were ob? tained with more satisfaction to himself and laborers than is often found dn other plantations. He uses Peruvian guano, bone dust, plaster and salt, combined or mixed, under bis own watchful eye, with such domestic manures as can be eco? nomically raised and applied. Mr. Dickson pulverizes the soil thor? oughly in preparation for cotton, and manures an acre (when expecting tbe best results) with 160 pounds guano, 240 pounds dissolved bones, 100 pounds salt and 160 pounds plaster, thoroughly mixed, costing about $16 ; the mixture, deposited in an eight-inch furrow, i3 covered with a long scooter runuing deeply on each side, leaving a rich and mellow seed-bed. He cultivates cleanly with sweeps and uses the bee once or twice. His crops are remarkably reli? able, the most destructive casualties caus? ing only partial failures ; and though he often suffers from worms or drought, he rarely gets less than a bale per acre, and oftener obtains nearly two. Our writer goes on to state that large results in cotton have undoubtedly been obtained from poor soils by a libsral ap? plication of fertilizers. An instance is reported from Onslow County, N. C, of a product of 2,700 pounds of seed cotton, or about 800 pounds of lint from one acre. The cotton was cultivated in tbe usual way, the land highly manured with a compost manure containing a large per? centage of stable manure. Other cases arc reported from the "Old North State.'* A. B. Davis, of Carteret County, pro? duced from an acre of land 2,300 pounds of seed cotton, using for manure fish only, which he caught himself. Calvin Tucker, of Pitt County, also produced from one acre 2,300 pounds of seed cot? ton, using barnyard manure, shell lime and leached ashes. J. T. Pearson, of Wayne County, produced from one acre 2,200 pounds of seed cotton, using with barnyard manure cottonseed and Baugh's superphosphate of lime. R. W. Pellet tier, of Lenoir County, produced from one acre 2,061 pounds of seed cotton. The mode of cultivation in these cases was not unusual, the increased yield being mainly due to the fertilizers used. The season was an unfavorable one, and the yield would have been much larger in a good season. Instances are given of similar increases of production in other farm crops, as the cereals and roots. The labor question is one still perplex? ing the planter more or less?how shall he employ his labor to make it work to tbe best advantage of all concerned? We have before us a report from Mr. B. F. Ward, of Georgia, on that subject, which is worthy of careful consideration. He savs: "I began operations by hiring my laborers (all negroes) at $120 a year for men and $75 for women and boys, sup? plying them with rations. Some worked as well as I wished; about one-third would not work unless I was present, and then not cheerfully or well. I lost my provisions of corn and meat, and made about enough cotton to pay them their wages in full. I settled with them fair? ly ; all were satisfied, and wanted to stay another year. They were all worked to? gether. " I selected for the next crop those with families who worked well, and turned off the drone3. I kept married men altogether. I had a great many ap? plications to hire, which gave me choice of the laborers around and to get as many as I wanted to work my land. I then divided them into squads or families, or let them make selections of their owu co workers. I measured off to each squad a portion of laud, and gave a mule to each two workers. I gave them one-half the corn and iodder, peas, potatoes, sorghum, melons, and half the dried peaches, and one-third of the cotton. I fed the plough stock, and they fed themselves aud fouud their owu clothing. They went to work very earnestly. The heads of squads were good, practical farmers. I had rent? ed a portion of the laud to white labor? ers, and I was soon enabled to get up a good state of excitement and ambition to excel in thequautity of crops to be made. The negros worked well and made good crops. Some made 300 or 400 bushels of corn to the baud, and some from three to five bales of cotton per capita, besides large quantities of potatoes, and about 250 gallons of syrup in all. We sold over 700 pounds of dried peaches, besides what wa? kept for home consumption. They were to furnish their own provis? ions, but by about the middle of June all except two bad applied to me for meat, and some for corn, aud some for both. I referred them to our contract; l,hey ac? knowledged its terms, but said it took more to feed them than they thought for; they had 'eat up all their meat, and their money was all gone, too.' I bad to sup? ply them or lose tbe crop; I furnished them, of course. They did very little after the crop was laid by until the time to gather it. They finished gathering before Christmas." Mr. R. H. Springer, of Georgia, reports another plan, pursued by himself, as fol? lows : "I employed frccduicn, aud gave them one-third of all that was made. I furnished everything?land, tools, horses, sned, &c, but I found that was hardly enough, although they worked reasonably well. Later I gave them one-half, and only furnished the laud and stock, and fed the stock, they beiug at all other ex? pense. They repair my fences, clean out my ditches, and keep the plantation in good order. This plan worked well. My plantation looks better than ever be? fore; the freedmeu work better, aud make an abundance to supply themselves and families. I am at but little trouble, and, if anything, they are working better this year than ever. They repair and keep up the plantation at all times when they would do nothing else; therefore it in no expense to them but labor, and a great saving to me. Freedmen would do much better if there were not so many villains prowling over the country seek? ing to swindle the negroes out of their hard-earned wages."' The Angora (.'oat in America. The readers of the South have already been many times pretty fully informed upon this subject. But the story merits repetition until it gains practical recog? nition. Hence, it is but proper that we should repeat somewhat of a "distin? guished arrival," from the Boston Daily Advertiser. It is thirty years since the Sultan of Turkey, as an act of gratitude to an American citizen, the late Dr. Davis, of South Carolina, sent to the United States half a dozen fine specimens of the An? gora goat. There have been, since that time, a dozen importations of a few ani? mals each. These, with their progeny, are scattered over all sections of the country, in and south of the middle States, and in some of the Territories and California, but seldom in heards of over a few hundred?the object in the minds of all the owners seeming to be the raising of animals for breeding and not in flocks for fleece. There have been one or two exceptions; notably that of the Hon. Richard Peters, who, on his fine stock ranche, among the foot-hills of the Blue Ridge, at Calhoun, in northwestern Georgia, has, from the original stock, maintained a flock of greater or less number ia their original purity. "With all the interest that has been manifested in these animals, the practi? cal, profitable results from Angora goat husbandry have been but meager and unsatisfactory. With the experience of hock masters in Australia and South Africa as examples?which have been of the most nati.?factory and profitable char? acter?it is certain that the goats, with proper treatment, will thrive and he prof? itable outside of their native habitat in Asia Minor. Fifteen years ago the mo? hair clip of the Cape of Good Hope had a value of $1,650. This year its value is ?650,000. Sir Samuel Wilson, of Mel bourn, Australia, one of the very first of English colonial breeders, says: 'The Angora industry is full of.promise for this section;' and he has published the very best practical treatise on the subject. Mr. J. B. Evans, of Scorsteenburgj St. Elizabeth, South Africa, who has a ranch of 180,000 acres, says: "The Angora goats are amoDg the best members of my flocks and herds, whicb, among other species, has a flock of 300 ostriches.' "It is not unreasonable that a fiber which for fifteen years has sold at double the price of the best combing wool, should have great value, and compel the atten? tion of the capitalist and fanner to its merits and possibilities for the future, here, where the variety of climate, soil and vegetation is so great. All who are interested in any attempts to develop the resources of the country must welcome the efforts now newly being put forth to provide an American growth of mohair for increasing the manufactures of the country made from that material. The best judges of the case say the want of success in this country is based on the two causes of wrong location of flocks and a lack of careful breeding. Careful attention to these conditions has given success elsewhere, that should, with our unlimited resources, have been readily gained here. All the Appalachian range, from Virginia south, is held by these par? ties to possess the needed qualities for success in this industry, and we are glad to be able to state that the attempt is to be made with better prospects than here? tofore. "There are now in this city some fine specimens of a breed of Angoras never before, save in one case, exported from Turkey. A pair of these animals went last year to Mr. Evan's place in South Africa, of which we have heretofore spok? en. The animals now under considera? tion arrived here a day or two since, in the steamer Dorian, from Constantinople, aud were imported by Col. C. W. Jenks. They are to form a part of the famous flock of Mr. Peters, in Georgia. They were brought some hundreds of miles on mule back to the coast from tin province Gercdeh, in the interior of Asia Minor. The Angoras heretofore received in this country have been from provinces near the coast, and are smaller, with fleeces of four, five and six pounds. The Geredeh breed is larger, with fleeces eight, ten, twelve, and, in same cases, fifteeu pounds in weight, of very fine and silky mohair, a lock of which lies before us, with pho? tographs of animals of this breed. Mr. Jenks informs us that he has traversed hundreds of miles in the Blue Ridge nountains of North Carolina and Geor? gia, the altitude, climate and vegetation of which are a transcript of those of the goat districts of Asia Minor. Thus Mr. Peters and his associates, with this new and most valuable addition to their facil? ities, propose the recommencement of an enterprise that ha3 in it not only the growth of a fiber for goods known as mohair, but the product of a staple that, if like the sample before us, will displace raw silk for one-third of its consumption, and grc vn at one-quarter the price paid for the product of the silk worm, while for the uses referred to, in strength, fine? ness, luster, or other needful characteris? tics, it is not inferior in any sense. We wish the iudustry and its promoters great success.? The South, New York. A Warxii-to.?An intelligent writer calls the attention of consumers of kero? sene oil to the pernicious and unhealthy practice of using lamps filled with that article with the wicks turned down. The gas which should be consumed by the flames is by this means left heavily in the air, while the cost of the oil thus saved, at the present prices, would scarce? ly be one dollar a year for the lamps of a household. His attention was called particularly to this custom while board? ing iu the country, where kerosene was the only available light. A large family of children living in the house were taken ill one uight, and on going to the nursery the mother found the room near? ly suffocating, with the lamp turned down ; whereupon the physician forbade the use of a lamp at night, unless turned at full head. lie says he could quote many cases, one of a young girl subject to fits of f'aintness, which, if not induced, were greatly increased by sleeping in a room with the lamp almost turned out. Besides the damage to health, it spoils the paper and curtains, soils the mirrors and windows, aud gives the whole house an untidy air and an uuwholsesome odor, j Escape of Convicts. On Thursday evening last, about 4 o'clock p. m., two white convicts, named Charles Keene and CharlesG.xiney, made their escape from tbe stockade of the At? lantic and French Broad Valley ltail road. They were both on the sick list, and were doing light work about the stockade. They asked permission to go to tbe spring, about 150 yards distant from the camp, and the guard foolishly permitted them to do so. They procured a mattock, and when out of sight cut off their shackles and left. The guard was sent in pursuit within a half hour after tbeir escape; the settlement was aroused and others besides the guards started out on the hunt for them. Capt. Kirk at once offered a reward of ?20 each for them, but they succeeded in eludi ig their pursuers, and would have probabiy made good their escape had they not broke into and robbed the house of a widow lady, Mrs. Carter, in the neighborhood of Mile Creek postoffice, about 15 miles from camp. They had procured a change of clothes at a wash place on Saturday morning, just after they had crossed a stream, probably Rice's Creek or Twelve Mile River, but could not resist their natural instincts to plunder and steal, and in the evening of the same day broke into the house of the widow lady, as above stated, and stole therefrom a lot more clothing. They changed clothes at tbe wash place where they first obtained them and hid their convict suits in a hol? low log down the branch just below the spring. When it was discovered that Mrs. Carter's house had been robbed, a party started in pursuit of the robbers, not knowing them to be escaped convicts, and captured tbem in the neighborhood of King's store, on Little Eastatoe. In returning to Trial Justice Parrott's house with them for a preliminary trial, Keene succeeded in freeing himself from the rope with which he was tied aud took to the woods at the rate of about 2:40. The guard fired at him, but without effect. On Sunday morning he was "jumped up" on Woodall Mountain and closely pur? sued, but up to this writing we have not heard whether he ha3 been recaptured or not. Keene hails from Thomasville, N. O, and i9 said to be a desperate char? acter, having broken jail twice before he was put in the Penitentiary?once in Virginia and once in North Carolina. It is said that Keene is not his real name. Gainey was brought to this place and lodged in jail until Monday morning, when he was carried to the stockade. Capt. Kirk has raised the reward for Keene to $30. Both Keene and Gainey were convicted at Cheraw for the crime of eow stealing. On Monday morning a negro by the name of Ben Wesley, who hails from Hopkins' Turnout, Richland County, who had been made a "trusty," and was a water carrier, stepped off and took the public road toward Williamston. It is probable that he has been captured before this.?Pickens Sentinel. A Duel to the Death. Col. Alexander and Col. Smiley were prominent claimants of mining lands at Silver City. Some dispute arose as to a claim. Being unable to settle it satisfac? torily, the dispute augmented into a quarrel, and the quarrel into violent threats. It was well-known that both parties were men of nerve. Smiley had won a reputation of being desperate iu a personal encounter. Alexander, though he had never been credited with shed? ding blood, was considered a man with whom it would not be safe to trifle. All efforts to settle the misunderstanding failed, and those who were acquainted with the circumstances expected that bloodshed would be the ultimate result. The day when the encounter took place, Smiley came to Hot Springs. Alexander was in the town. Smiley went to the bank and asked of the cashier: "Have you seen Alexander?" The cashier replied that he had not seen him, but understood that he was in town. "I am going to kill him before 4 o'clock," exclaimed Smiley, and, turning, left the bank. After leaving the bank, he had not gone far when he met Alex? ander. The furious aspect immediately assumed by each man illustrated the fact that violence would ensue. Alexander drew a large revolver, and, rushing upon Smiley, struck him over the head.? Smiley staggered back, and drew a French sclf-cocking revolver, and, with a rapidity almost beyond the capacity of enumeration, fired six shots at Alexan? der. Three shots took effect, a ball strik? ing each arm and another going through the lungs. Alexander's pistol dropped from his hand. He attempted to recover it, but his right arm had been paralyzed by the ball. He grasped it with his left hand, but the left arm having also been wounded, he was unable to cock the weapon. Smiley was upon him. With a cool, desperate presence of mind, Alex? ander kicked his pistol into a saloon, near which the encounter occurred. Then en? tering, he stooped and caught the muzzle of his pistol with his left hand, raised it up, and cocked it with his foot. He lifted the pistol from the floor. Smiley stood outside, peeping around a door post, with only a part of his bead ex? posed. Alexander nervously lifted the weapon, took deliberate aim and fired. The ball plowed along tbe post behind which Smiley stood, half burying itself, and, striking Smiley in the forehead, went through his brain. Smiley fell dead, and Alexander, turuiug, sank from loss of blood. A large crowd witnessed the encounter, and the greatest of excitement prevailed. The wonder is that several men were uot killed, for when Smiley fired the six shots, the sidewalk was crowded with people. The weapons used were not the parlor pistols, but the brand intended to kill, almost regardless of distance. One of the balls from Smiley's pistol went through a signboard and buried itself in another. The mark on the door post, made by the ball which killed Smiley, is full six feet from the sidewalk. Nine men out of ten would have escaped, as the deadly missile would have passed harmlessly over.?Little Pock (Ark.) Ga? zette. ? A report to the annual conference of the Mormons savs that the Mormon population of Utah*is 111,820, that the Church in that Territory has lost 000 members and gained 1,500 in a year, and that the Church receipts in that period were over $1,000,000. Apostle Snow made an eloquent defence of polygamy, aud there was no show of opposition to that dogma. ? A. L. Pierson, of Frio County, Texas, has clipped this year 20,000 pounds of Merino wool, for which he will probably receive forty cents per pound. Given* up by Doctors.?" Is it possi? ble that Mr. Godfrey is up and at work and cured by so simple a remedy?" "I assure you it is true that he is entirely cured, and with nothing but Hop Bitters; and only ten days ago his doctors gave him upand said he must diel" "Well a-day! That is remarkable I I will go this day and get some for poor George I ?I know hops are good."?Salem Pod.