The San Francisco call., 1903-12-27
THE QUEER NEW YEAR OF GLOBE TROTTERS

they had spent at home. But when
they tasted 1t the resemblance ceased.
1t was fshy and tough. The meat
was like knotted rope yarn and the
gravy suggested tar. However, II was
a New Year dinner all the same, and
1t was enjoyed as keenly as the finest
feast ashore that day.
An American traveller, who is we'll
known commercially In the West In
dies, was mixed up in one OF the
perennial revolutions OF Hayti in his
hot and foolish youth. Unhappily, he
allied himself with the weaker side.
and on New Years eve found himself
one Of small band Of desperadOes de-
Tending the stockaded town Of Mira
goane against a government army.
which outnumbered them by more
than 100 to 1.
During the night the Government
soldiers forced their way into the town.
Only about thirty OF the defenders
were left alive.
Stand them up in a line and shoot
them" commanded General Manigat,
the Government leader.
But they were too weak to stand All
OF them were wounded, half-starved
and fever-stricken. So the Govern
ment troops propped them up in chairs
and shot them as they lOlled there.
u
der that his case might be inquired
into.
When he protested to General Mani
gat against the cruelty Of shooting
helpless captives that triumphant war
rior merely blew a cloud of cigarette
smoke and remarked calmly: "C'est Ia
guerre."
Late on New Years eve." said the
American, they tried me by court
ffal 4 oh
Years morning I was In the calaboose,
sentenced to be shot at sundOwn. It
wasn't very pleasant waiting. I was
quite glad when a gold-laced officer en-
tered the cell toward evening, with
paper informing me that his excel
ency, the citizen President had been
pleased to pardon me, in consideration
of the request Of the American Minis
ter and Of the fact that 1t was New
Years day.
Il believe they had never intended to
shoot me, but only to frighten me, for
they hardly dared to touch a white
man whose country owned navy that
might lombard their ports. Anyhow,
1 got out Of jail in time to eat my
dinner with some American and Eng
lish friends on a coffee plantation near
Miragoane."
An American globe trotter tells how
he once spent New Years day hunt
ing a crocodile in Jamaica, West Indies.
After a long hunt the crocodile was
found buried beneath the mud in a
shallow bend Of a river on the planta-
ton. The hunters only carried small
shotguns, which were useless against
the beasts tough hide, covered as Ii
was several inches deep in mud.
But the planter was a man Of re-
source. He sent hurriedly for negroes
and set them to work to construct two
strong walls of bamboo poles across the
bed Of the stream, thus inclOsing the
crocodile IN a prison from which he
could find no escape.
After the walls were built everybody
hid quietly in the tall grass on the
banks and waited. Hour after hour
they laid there. Their luncheon con-
sisted of sandwiches and a flask Of
rum punch.
1t was not until the end Of the after
noon that the crocodile, finding It could
not break through the bamboo barriers,
crept out Of the Water. Before ii could
drag the whole Of It's huge carcass out
of the mud II was lassoed and hauled
toward the bank by twenty willing
hands.
Too surprised to offer resistance, the
beast at first suffered itself to be al
most dragged on to the bank; but IL
caught on the edge with its forepaws
and made a desperate struggle. Twen-
ty yelling negroes hung on to the other
end of the rope, but could not drag that
crocodile up; they could only prevent
it from Topping back into the water
again. Honors were easy in that ter
rife tug-of-war.
At last a yoke Of eight oxen had to
be brought. They soon dragged the
beast to the bank. where 1t was tied
around tree and dispatched with axes.