The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1900-06-28

lTuctA II DeyONu al praise. buN lHt
work is too great to be thoroughly got
in hand. the area afflicted Is too wide,
the villages too remote and scattered
FOR relief to be afforded In all cases.
And the people themselves, by their
llstiessnoss. the fatalsm, their utter
lhattautlon to the most ordinary sani-
tary or dletetlc precautions, place
stumbling blocks in the way of theft
would-be saviors and pave the way to
their own speedy destruction.
Government Cannot Do More.
II was the proud cndeavor OF this
government of Lord curzoa when this
famine began to see TO it that no single
human was avoided. But events have
proved that this nim was altogether too
exalted. The unparalleled extent of thu
disaster which has overtaken the land
is only now beginning to be thoroughly
appreciated as reports continue to come
In from the outlying tracts. All that
can be done is being done. Money is be-
Ing. spent like water, the officers of the
government are wearing themselves to
the bone. the missionaries are doing
splendid service But the task Is too
great, the evil too widespread. All that
can be done is to continue to work at
the same high pressure, 10 do the best
possible. More cannot be achieved,
But though the condition OF AFFAIRS
in the northern portion OF the Bombay
Presidency is probably tho worst and
most terrible in the country, there arr
other districts where things are almost
MS bal. Further IN To line OF rail
which runs from Ahmenabad to north
ern India, there lies the small oaslslof
British territory known as Ajmere,
surrounded on all sides by the native
states of Rnjputana.
1 have before me as I write the let
ter of an eye witness. who has recent
ly been visiting this part OF the coun-
try, and his report reveals condition
of affairs but little better than that
which obtains on the Bombay side. The
whole country is dry, waterless
waste A fierce sun beats down all
day, the temperature reaching 10 de-
grees and more in the shade. A strong
wind, carrying with 1t the burning
sands of the desert, which lies to the
north, sweeps across the plain. Here
and there one may see single patch of
green. the carefully tended crop Of
some fortunate peasant. whose well
has not yet run dry. Everything else
is desolate, miserable. barren, with
nothing more than a scarcely percepti-
BILE stubble to mark how the young
shoots Of corn were blIghted In their
carly growth. The railway stations are
blocked with the long lines of cars,
which bring In grain from the more ia
vored portions of India. There are also
strings of cars laden with hides, for
cattle have persisted literally by the
million, and continue 10 die in countless
thousands as each week succeeds the
other.
Distress in Towns Hidden.
IN AlGnCEE llSells lHt lltlllutAl hSlo VI
the district. you search in vain, as you
may in most other British towns, for
traces of the awful distress which is
tearing out the heart of the people
Poor emaelated wanderers come flock
Ing in from the native states; food and
shelter await them without the city
walls. For the aged poor and the starv-
ing there Is the poorhouse, for the able
bodied, pubic works.
But over all relief instltutionsSin this
district deadly, swiftly. fell disease
hangs Ike pail. Cholera is every
where. In ten days nearly four hun
dred people fell dead In one camp
alone.
Can anything be more terrible than
the LOT Of the ADMINISTRATION in a
cholera oamp? On the one hand death,
IN its most terrible form. striking re-
morselessIy unfortunately, on the
Cher hand suffering and starvation.
Inf tbe chance of escape. Small won.
dor mat manic doss get in when the
dra,d enemy nppears scattering the
,,.,,1, ~ ord wide spreading the