Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 186: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

176 the complaints of neighbors who thought it beriberi or leprosy. Further and more complete information may be obtained from a perusal of the pages devoted to elephantiasis in Chandler’s treatise—ALBERT H. LAWRENCE. BIT out of a letter to me from Gordon 4“ Young concerning his serial beginning in this issue: I don’t think there is much I can say about Hurgronje that would be of value to the Camp-Fire. As a matter of fact, it was not a man but a woman with whom I had the experience that inspired the story; she preached just about all Hurgronje does, and unless you have been into something of “the kind, you can not imagine how convincingly. I think it must be largely in the wonderful voice. Hers was a miracle. All the great fakers I have known have had marvelous voices—I stressed the qualities in Hurgronje. I really expected you to balk at Hurgronje’s “line of bunk” and saved up some clippings that happened to appear in recent papers just to show you what people do believe. Incidentally: Practically all of the description of Hurgronje’s weird and miraculous claims is literally true; incredulous as it may seem, the talk of ancient mysteries, secret cities, the detaching of spirit from body, is made convincing to many people of sense.— GorDON YOUNG. A BIT about Calamity Jane and Wild Bill from one of our writers’ brigade at Deadwood. I wish we could arrange to reproduce in “Camp-Fire” the interesting pictures he kindly sent, but—we can’t. Deadwood, South Dakota. Jan. 17, Year Two of the Camel. Did I tell you that from my windows here I can look across the gulch and see the monuments marking the graves of Wild Bill, Calamity Jane, Preacher Smith and others of the old-timers who used to help make the welkin ring in this neigh- borhood? Many times I have thought it unfortunate that you didn’t have inserted in Camp-Fire one page of coated stock on which to reproduce some of the old timers, ancient guns and other subjects of interest along these lines. Of course, inserts are to handle and they cost money, but I still think it would be a good idea. N CASE you might be interested am sending you a pair of pictures which you may keep. The one of Wild Bill was reproduced from a tintype. I got Jane from a friend here, a photographer who made hundreds of her. She used to sell them around the saloons. She came to this photographer one day, having a few aboard, and wanted a hundred prints made up from the plates he had. He told her he couldn’t make any more until paid for the last bunch, an item of $20. Jane put her arms around his neck, laid her head on his shoulder and looking up into his face, said: ‘“My dear boy, don’t you worry about that any more. You'll never get a cent.”” And she was right. He didn’t. When Jane died she left a large and cumbersome Adventure bunch of debts all over Deadwood, as during the last few years of her life she had some very rough sledding and owed nearly every one she knew, but in this neck of the woods everybody is strong for Jane just the same. Proving again that money amounts to but very little in the long race after all. N THE Deadwood Commercial Club we have the gun with which Wild Bill killed the gambler on the town square of Springfield, Mo., in 1865. It is a .32 caliber, rim fire, 5 shot, single action. When Bill was buried here a board was erected over his grave on which were the following words: “WILD BILL—J. B. Hickok—Killed by the assas- sin—Jack McCall—in—Deadwood, Black Hills— Aug. 2d, 1876—Pard, we shall meet again in the happy Hunting grounds to part no more. Good bye—Colorado Charlie—C. H. Utter.” The grave now is marked by a rough stone statue, various parts of which have been broken off by souvenir collectors. There is a very small stone which tells merely the name and date. Ca- lamity Jane is buried in the same plot. Regardless of a great deal of comment to the con- trary you can take it from the old-timers here who knew him, that Bill was a regular he man anda gentleman. You can’t call him names around this section. Just located a couple more pictures which am enclosing. Wild Bill from a drawing and a group of Wild Bill, Buffalo Bill.and Texas Jack.—Earu H. EmMMons. —_— qq eae letter referred to in the following was, as I took it, intended only for a good-natured josh. However, the following reply, from an American standing up for the Australian sheep-dogs, makes good reading: Los Banos, P. I. U. S. N. Radio Station. In looking over a recent issue of your publication, I noticed an article in the “Camp-Fire”’ that inter- ested me very much. It was written by some bird in Chicago, I don’t recall his name, but he certainly exposed himself by his sarcastic remarks about the Australian dogs. His sarcasm took the form of a Philipine dog story, and believe me he has never been out here in this neck of the woods, or he would not have pulled a boner like that. Some one had evidently written to Adventure in regards to the remarkable sagacity displayed by the sheep and cattle dogs of Australia. Now there are no better Americans made than my- self, but some of these birds should take a stroll around before they venture to criticise some stories about things that they have never se@h. I did not have the good fortune to see the article that he was ridiculing, but having quite a little experience with the afore-mentioned canines I am here’ in their defense. I am not going to mention any specific instance, but these dogs are almost human in the work that they perform, and I am afraid if I specify I will not be believed by some of the “home-guards” that read our magazine. I worked in Australia for three years, and was there when the war started in 1914, and never heard about it until the 27th. of August of that year. I was in N. S. W. at that time COmicloo 5}