Democratic Sentinel, Volume 13, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 March 1889 — A MIGHTY HUNTER IS HE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A MIGHTY HUNTER IS HE

BILL NYE'.i ADVENTIIV 8 IN THE MINNESOTA Jc-NcLC:?. tie Penetrates th « Tropic it Depths of the Great Northwest o > the B ick n. n Elephant. and Meets with Severe! 1 hr Ilin;; Adventures.

N the exhilarating Northwest, lcto9: The cold of Minnesota has been g.eat.y exaggerated by rival btates, and though at times the ther- _ inometer lowers it- < ) self in the estimation of society, the kl cold is of such a y. bracing character as to seem almost * oppressively hot to those who are not

accustomed to ii. The eye sparkles, the step is elastic, and the rich blood mantles to the nose as the gayly caparisoned droska speeds blithely through the palmetto groves of the thrifty Occident. Many Southern people come to St. Paul and Minneapolis, it is said, in order to escape the rigors of their own winter. The banana belt extending from Duluth to Winnipeg reminds one of tropical Africa. Last week Mr. Riley Haggard and I started out for a little quiet elephant shooting in the country. Bidding farewell to the concierge at the hotel, we packed our heavy express rifles and smooth-bore elephant guns, penetrated as far as the sleeping-car could convey us, and bidding farewell to our faithful Wan Wenga, who caressed us both with a whisk brcom to the value cf 20 scudi, we hired an elephant apiece and began to penetrate the jungle, preceded by our trusty bird-dog. At the kraal or livery stable, where we engaged our e'ephants, we were told that game was plenty about thirty miles acres; the dingelow, and that in a small forest of jmgsnag trees and hoola bushes quite a covey of quigga and elephants had b?en scared up by a Boer who had penetiated the jungle ac companied by his brokje or clog. The first night we camped beneath the shade of a Vienna breadfruit tree on the borders of the Karroo, and, preventing the escape of our trusty elephants by attaching their trunks, we began to prepare our evening meal. I lead the directions from a book of African travel, and my faithful comrade, Mr. Riley Haggard, did the cooking. First refreshing ourselves with a long draught from a gourd of spooniu from Peoria, maiked 1842 so-called because it is placed on the marset eighteen hours and forty-two minutes after it is made, our faithful gun-bear-er, Ylang Y lang, began to carve the bultong, Meiboss, and jerk, d muskrat for the even ng meal. Making a bright tire of karroo bushes and fresh train figs, a wad of mealies was soon simmering on the coals, while the odor of Cincinnati bultong pervaded the tropical forest. Ylang Ylang, our faithful valet, who has made his name a household word because of his search after Schwatka and “One Night” Stanley, said that according to the books on African exploration it was now time to bed down the elephants. After doing this he returned and proceeded with the cuisine. We had hardly swallowed our supper, and Mr. Riley Haggard was about to climb a date palm to secure a few luscious lecture-dates, when our ears were saluted by a most unearthly and ear-piercing roar from the heart of the jungle. At this moment our faithful Ylang Ylang came in, with eyes stick-

ing out like a sore thumb, to announce that our bird dog had flushed a large Abyssinian lion. Hurriedly putting a little Mayonnaise dressing on our faithful Viang Viang, we sent him out to parley with the lion while we put on our telegraph climbers, and. filling our pockets with bultong, we ascended a Duluth palm tree. We had not long to wait! The wang wanga bushes pat ted and a low, heavyset performing lion crept softly into the open Karroo, preceded at a distance of about three-quarters of an inch by our faithful Viang Viang. As the poor fellow jumped a low Kirdish bush I heard a crunching sound such as I hope never to hear again, and turned away my head rather than see our trusty gun-bearer in the act of backing into a lion. As soon as I could regain my courage by a small nip of spoopju I looked back at the sickening spectacle. All was still save the distant song of the redbreasted blim-blam in the Koojoo bushes.

Suddenly remembering how I had once seen a lion-tamer make a lion quail, I desc nded ;rom the tree, and taking a small riding-whip with me, I ea.di.-Hi!” ami whipping him across the for legs, in the meantime frequently making the remark "Hi,” I drove him away from there. Out of the kraal, down the sloot or dry watercourse, and across the Karroo lands he sp d, and so on back to Winnipeg, where he joined his congress of rare wild beasts, as I afterward leai ned. Hastily saddling our elephants and sinching them tightly so tha; the howdah could no 1 , slip arou ,d under the stomach of the noble beast, we mounted by means of a freight-car standing near by and returned across the transvaal, whatever that is, and hiring a diligence, we packed our remaining supply of bultong, elephant tusks, spoopju, pemmican, elephant blubber, sacred cow meat, dried yak, Krooliejam, Milwaukee Heidsick, and a glossary of l ard words from Rider Haggard, and took the cars at Stanley Pool, resolving to penetrate still farther into the tropical depths of the Northwest. I had been told by the real estate men both at St. Paul and Minneapolis

that the winter here was much like that of Singapore, but I would not have believed it even then if I had not personally tried it.

A-HUNTING WE WILL GO.

NYE AS A LION TAMER.