anaheim-gazette 1906-09-06

Bird V. Beebe. Vehicle Farming Implement Buggy Robes, Best Makes of Buggi All kinds of Repair work. Pattons Sun-proof Paints. Great Reduction in Price Suits, White and Fancy Vests and Straw Hats —AT— Yungbluth & Kroeger 127 Center St. Phone Main 66 DRINK Yungbluth & Kroeger 127 Center St. Phone Main 66 DRINK PRIME BEER It makes you healthy. Keq and bottled Beer delivered to all parts of the city. UNION BREWING CO. Phone 30 First National Bank ANAHEIM, CAL. Drafts sold direct on all European Countries Interest Paid on Time Certificates OFFICERS W.F.BOTSFORD President JOHN HARTUNG Vice Pres.-Cash, FRANK SHANLEY, 2d Vice Pres. O.ZEUS Assistant Cashier DIRECTORS W.F.BOTSFORD JOHN HARTUNG FRANK SHANLEY A.S.BRADFORD PETER WEISEL Sr Anaheim Beer on Tap Telephone Mai THE PEERLESS A. FUHRBERG, Proprietor Fine Wines, Liquors and Cigars O.LAGMAN Choice of THE PEERLESS A. FUHRBERG, Proprietor Fine Wines, Liquors and Cigars ANAHEIM, Cal. O. LAGMAN Builder and a Graduated Architect Having 28 years experience in building constructions and thoroughly versed in designing Artistic Homes. Consult me before building and I will submit Plans, etc., of new ideas right up to date and save you money. RESIDENCE NO. 207 Hermine Street P.O.Box 253 Joseph Backs Undertaker Embalmer Furniture Bedding Repairing Done Anaheim Bakery. PETER SYRE, Prop. Fresh Bread Cakes and Pies Confectionery. Etc.. Wedding Cakes a Specialty. LOS ANGELES and CYPRESS ST. Choice of Many Routes SOUTHERN SUNSET OGDEN & SHASTA ROUTE EAST and WEST "Sunset" Via New Orleand El Paquez via San Francisco "Ogden" "Shasta" Pullman Vestibule Trains Daily Personally Conducted Tourist cursions via all routes every day in week at REDUCED RATES The SOUTHERN PACIFIC gives you choice of many routes from the northern boundry of the United States to the Atlantic Coast, so that you go one way and return another, with varied scenery and climatic conditions Full information from any agent. Southern Pacific LEGENDS OF THE DESERT The coast range, winding like a mighty serpent, its sinuous folds crested with oak, pine and chaparral, is the dividing line between lands of beauty and desolation. Standing on its summit one may look westward over countless valleys, dotted with waving fields of grain, picturesque bits of timber land, and rolling mesas, where herds of sheep and cattle graze on the tender green of spring time. Further on the great Pacific stretches out. On the other hand, turn slowly—the eye must be rested to receive the shock—lie broken, distorted, lifeless mountains; the shriveled corpse of a dead country. There is no living thing there; these bleaching wastes give scant nourishment even to the gaunt cacti. A chaos of rocks and canyons, a labyrinth, which to unwary feet leads to the gate of death. Yet, afar out, is an expanse so level and unvaried that it might well be taken for a yellow sea, and winding through this are lines of green showing the arteries of the great Imperial valley, with here and there a little lake, shining like a spot of silver. Out of this wilderness have been wafted many tales, some of them true, and stranger than the wildest fiction. Some exaggerated by much telling, until but a shadow of the original exists, while others have sprung. Minerva-like, from the brains of imaginative prospectors—myths, that have led to the loss of thousands of dollars and the sapperating plain of white and yellows far as the eye could reach. Itally it dawned upon him mountains must be in the way that to reach them meant for there were food and plenty. But even though failed tc arouse him now. fell down at his side and come to mechanically pick up those that lay on the hilltop. He were heavy, so heavy. Waste cause he was so tired or we really heavier than ordinarieHe examined them; they wereferent from anything he had seen—blackish and raggedsome places metallic. He pinedin his pocket; then he measuredthe drear mileshimandthemountains.Could do it? Wasit betterto dieat rat,或struggleon? In aments,the clatterofhiswoodoverthestones,told.of.hiscowindlydownthehillsideblingoverjaggedrocks，reachhis handsstosteady himself ingoncetillaonly todrawback,Laceratedbyathousandsandwithbloodtricklingfinger tips,他astlastreacondandyplain again.HereheBesidesim grewacactuslarge,round variety,counknownasthe“nigger-head.”ingamatchtothespineshewtheramescreepupits sides.thesharp thornss iftheymadeoffolldWhen lastburnedeaway.withhisknifew slicefromthenengrenge Out of this wilderness have been wafted many tales, some of them true, and stranger than the wildest fiction. Some exaggerated by much telling, until but a shadow of the original exists, while others have sprung, Minerva-like, from the brains of imaginative prospectors—myths that have led to the loss of thousands of dollars and the sacrifice of human life. The very name carries a fascination with it, conjuring pictures of lost mines and hidden treasure. Because it is so hard of access, barren, and uninviting, the adventurous see opportunities for something to exist that has never yet been found, or once discovered, lost in the shifting sands or in some solitary canyon awaiting to pour its treasure into the pockets of the more fortunate. Among the more prominent of these popular fictions, is the story of Peg-leg Smith, soldier, prospector, and adventurer. I have heard it told many times, with variations as numerous as the narrators. The frame work of the story remains practically the same; however. It seems that a one-legged soldier named Smith, whose misfortune gained him the name of "Peg-leg," was for some time a roustabout, saloon porter, and like at Yuma. Becoming tired of this life, he concluded to try his luck in California,and headed for San Bernardino.As to the time of his departure,the accounts vary greatly;but it is placed somewhere between 1836 and 1850.Add neither is it known how Peg-leg attempted this journey whether he had burrows or other conveyanceof his own,或 trusted to chanceandhis wooden legto carryhim through. Ofthe weary dayshe plodded across shimmering sandsor amongthe yellow mud hillswhichoncemarkedthe slimybottomofanancientsea,nothingistold,tunel徙ersnearlytwohundredmilesofhisjourney，when,eitherinafinger tips,他atlastreach sandyplain again.Herehesidehimgrewacactuslarge,roundvariety,cowknownasthenigger-head." inga matchtochestineshewtheflamescreepupitsside shesharp thornssifithenmadeoffolldWhentherastburnedinawITHishkuifen slicefromspongymattasted-itwasgood；there moistureint.it。Then,morefiendthamman,hethetorou sideofthecactushwithihseatinguntillathastmore gone.Therich,Mucilaginostancehadbeenafoodando Him,drowsywithgorghaylayhishead uponhisarmand The sun sank behindthemountainsinagloryofgolds throwher mantleover thendesolationquickly.as if治hi whichhadbencreateddeerthecoydotesmingled their yellsin vain.for治 ihmwh weredreamsofotherlands,p和 sportingtountainsbirdtrees,andflowerstobebewomen.inakaleidoscopicwht Butthe Story grows long.tellhowhe waked;how thyblenauseathatcomeshome cactusovercamehim;how seemingeveryton riseagain,a at lasthe came tocamp offIndiansandwas saved.Hi aftermanydays.reached o tion,andultimatelySan BernardButthis would bearepetition stoyhofhundresofotherswi pioneers,Crossedthe vast trastes. Itisenoughtosaythafter legha reached civilization,b hributedwitatestreeby thosewho know therearemany stories oftner inwhich它becamedknowethpebbleshedfoundontothefotlonely hillinhadeswhatistcalledblackor coate One oldprospector wh he had burrows or other conveyance of his own, or trusted to chance and his wooden leg to carry him through. Of the weary days he plodded across shimmering sands or among the yellow mud hills which once marked the slimy bottom of an ancient sea, nothing is told, until he traversed nearly two hdundred miles of his journey, when, either in a sand storm, or in the darkness of night, he strayed away from the little traveled road and was lost in the wildest part of the desert. For two days he wandered without food or water, hampered by his wooden leg, which sank every step into the treacherous sands or caught in the rough stones, as he climbed the rocky foothills. Lying at night on the sands, exhausted in every muscle, his parched tongue burning with the fever of thirst while in the darkness around him gleamed the eyes of hungry coyotes, too cowardly to attack the living but ready to devour the dead. On the third morning, half crazed with his sufferings and the fear of death, he saw in the distance three black hills higher than others in the vicinity; and staggering forward he reached the summit of one in the center, and tried to get his bearings. He was so tired that for a long time he lay on the rough rocks and looked out over the cacti-covered wastes. A few miles away a line of blue mountains blended with the sky. In all other directions extended an undu It is enough to say that after leg had reached civilization, it tributed with at last three endings by those who knew there are many stories of herner in which it became known she pebbles he had found on that lonely hill in deser what is called black or coated One old prospector who searched many years for Peg fabulous find assures me that leg organized a company of pectors and went back to where they either perished thrist or were killed by her Her even showed me a knife aged and rusty, that he alleged relies of Peg-legs last journey Another authority on claims that Peg leg died near Bernardine soon after his worst adventure fromthe effect long thirst This same author has a map now torn and faded is supposedto have been given Smith tothe doctorwho att himathisdeath bed.The pointsout certainknownmountainsandinvicinity,thethreehills It looksas though these rains could be easilyfound,bold friend spends fiveor sixmevery year lookingfor themfoldthat liesattotherendrainbowPeglegbroughtacrossmountainsfifty或sixtyyearsHe stillbelieveshewillfinditdoesnot,perehapsthreemountswillcast theirlongshies. min of white and yellow, as the eye could reach. Graduated upon him that the must be in the west; and teach them meant succor, were food and water in when the thought of these rouse him now. His hand at his side and commenced naturally pick up the pebbles on the hilltop. But they may, so heavy. Was it been so tired, or were theyvier than ordinary stone? Ned them; they were difin anything he had ever ekish and ragged, and intes metallic. He put a few pocket; then he mentally the drear miles between the mountains. Could he was it better to die here like struggle on? In a few mo- clatter of his wooden legs bones, told of his decision down the hillside, stum-jagged rocks, reaching out to steady himself, graspatilla, only to draw them rated by a thousand spines blood trickling from his head at last reached the again. Here he rested. On grew a cactus, of the kind variety, commonly "nigger-head." Touch-h to the spines he watched creep up its sides, licking thorns as if they were alive. When the last one was lay with his knife he cut across another unnamed grave. Although the story of Peg-leg Smith is, perhaps, the first of its kind, many other stories are recited under the influence of the campfire's genial blaze, when pipes are lighted, and the mingled wreaths of smoke paint pictures on the minds of men. It is here that the tales of these searchers of mystic wealth are at their best. With a richness of detail, born of a firm belief in these traditions, and faces glowing with animation in the soft light of the camp-fire,the listener imbibes someof their enthusiasm,and himself believes. One will tell you ofthe Mexican cowboy who,as an employee of Warner’s ranch,made many excursions into desert,caring for cattle at grazing stations on Coyote creekand Borego springs.On oneofthese trips hewas gone longerthan usual and returnedwith over seven thousand dollars in golden nuggets.He,tikePeg-legwenttoSan Bernardino,and entertainedhimselfintureMexicanstylewhilehismoneylasted.But money was nothing to himnow.There was plenty oftawaitingonlytobe takenfromits hidingplace,andaffordmore revelry.So,backtoWarner’sranch,andthenceacrossthefoothillstothes desert,successfully eludingtosewhofollowed,h ereplenishedihisstoreinthesumoffive thousands,andreturntedtosanBernardinoandtheoccupationof enjoyingself. Three times he made-thejourneyovermountainanddesert,each time he at last reached the man again. Here he rested. He grew a cactus of the sand variety, commonly called "nigger-head." Touching to the spines he watched creep up its sides, licking thorns as if they were alive. When the last one was away with his knife he cut in the spongy mass. He was good; there was no it. Then, more like a man, he tore out the incarnate cactus with his hands, until the last morsel was rich, mucilaginous substance been food and drink to drowsy with gorging, he had upon his arm and slept. Sank behind the western rim in a glory of gold. Night mantle over the land of quickly, as if to hide that has been created dead; and is mingled their fiendishness for to him who slept on other lands, palaces, fountains, birds, and flowers, and beautiful kaleidoscopic whirl. History grows long. I might awakened; how the terrifying that comes from eating became him; how he fell, never to rise again, and how came to a camp of friendly aid was saved. How he days, reached civilization ultimately San Bernardino could be a repetition of the hundreds of others who, asossed the vast trackless The Better Way The tissues of the throat are inflamed and irritated; you cough, and there is more irritation—more coughing. You take a cough mixture and it eases the irritation—for a while. You take... The tissues of the throat are inflamed and irritated; you cough, and there is more irritation—more coughing. You take a cough mixture and it eases the irritation—for a while. You take SCOTT'S EMULSION and it cures the cold. That's what is necessary. It soothes the throat because it reduces the irritation; cures the cold because it drives out the inflammation; builds up the weakened tissue because it nourishes them back to their natural strength. That’s how Scott's Emulsion deals with a sore throat, a cough, a cold, or bronchitis. WE'LL SEND YOU A SAMPLE FREE. 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