The daily morning journal and courier., 1898-06-15

of the rising sun streaming into my face, and one of the cobras crawling across my legs. I kept still, and the snake crept away in the grass hunting his breakfast.
 "The old fakir,' who was smoking, presently laid aside his pipe, collected his snakes and other luggage together, told me with look that we were to move, and we left the clearing and turned into the road toward Baghra. In the dust, and more plainly in the miry places, we could see the tracks of Nagho. Presently there were other footprints above the mans and taking the same course-the tracks of a tiger which had come into the road from the jungle. I had not said a word to the fakir of what had occurred the night before, but he pointed to the tigers tracks and said gravely, the first words l he had spoken that morning:
 These are bringing you to your property
 we kept along the road until we | came to a place where the tracks show | ed that the swinging trot of the tiger | had changed to a succession of long | bounds, which ended at a spot where the dust had been stirred by marks of struggle, and caked with drops of red. The bushes and long grass crush | ed and bent to left an alright. showed where the tiger leaped back into the l jungle, and there was no track of man | or beast in the road beyond. But in the tigers path at a few paces from the
 roadside, strung along the bushes was
 the unwound turban of Nagho with a
 long smear of red upon it's white
 Tt was so appointed,' said the l fakir. He was weaving the plan of his
 own dealth when he thought he was composing your Now, take your own.
 restored to you, and we will go on into Baghra.'
 1 "He pointed to my satchel, which I had not seen, in the grass by the road-
 side. It was unopened, and all it's con- tents were safe. We went on into Baghra, where the fakir left me at the outskirts of the town, taking his way,
 ] suppose, to the house of some person l of his religious order. I gave him a
 bag of rupees at parting, which he &C., l cepted without thanks or comment to him it came by appointment of the l gods, and I feel sure that he would | have received a sentence of immediate | execution with the same calm fatalsm.
 l saw him once more, when he was
 called before the magistrate to give his testimony as to the manner of Nagho' S
 death, but he gave me no sign or recog- | milton. To one like him, wrapped in
 communion with diety, mere man
 whatever his degree, was worthy of | nothing more than passing notice.
 My story of the fakir is told, and
 you may explain 1t if you can to your
 satisfaction. His tricks at the bunga- low were incomprehensible to the
 Western mind. Beyond these, what dc
 you think of his reading of the human soul. as when his glance at Nagho re-
 vealed my servants thought of murder
 and robbery against me? Of his knowl-
 edge of the events of the night occur
 ring in his case beyond the perceptions
 of the recognized senses of seeing and
 hearing? Was it the reading of Naghos mind at the bungalow and of mine by
 the fire in the jungle? Let that explain
 it if you will. But what a genuine and lofty order of mind reading. Compare
 it with the jugglery that passes by that
 name among people of the Western
 Hemisphere. From the New York Sun.