Weekly journal-miner., 1917-04-04
History Offers no Parallel for Kind Of Warfare Conducted by Wickedest Engine of Destruction Ever De- vised by the Brain Man.

History and fiction await with poor patience the golden prizes that must come to them at the end of the great war. One sees them picking and choosing among the tremendous facts to be finally revealed and snatchine them with . sort of breathless eager ness at thrilling secrets.
 Gndomitablc necessity, guarding the security of nations, has blindfolded these cupbcarcrs to the imagination oi mankind, but in time to comc-within one year or two or five, it may be- the bandagcs will be removed and the minds of men will drink deep and long of such tales of land and sea as were never spoken or dreamed Of since time began.
 Such taies as would have dauntcd truth and startled fancy in old days will be spread like a feast for the story tcllcrs. It would require cen, turies to tell them all, if all could ever be told, for ono comprchends vaguely that entire Iliads and Odys- seys must dim and disappear before there comes an ending 10 the trc- mcndous surge and shock of courage and sclf-sacriiicc and flashing achieve mcnt and cunning ingenuity.
 But there arc some tales that must be told-that will he sought for and rescued all alive and stirring from the vast rcek and wcltcr of war events. And of these, men wait most eagerly perhaps, for the truth about the wick edest engine man ever devised, the submarine, so frightful on its selected occasions, so helpless when its vicious guile is ovcrmstchcd by the wilcs and stratcgcms of the hunters.
 Blind Mans Buff.
 Now and then the wardcns of the truth have nodded momcniarily and there have been afforded glimpses of the terrible game of blind mans buff that is being played by English and German in the waters around the British Isles. Just enough has been perceived of that incredible game tc whet the appetite of a world.
 The picture comes al such times in sudden, trembling flashes, like a bad ly projected cincmatograph. One sees the German shark turning and twist ing under the surface churn of the Irish sea, now darting to the top to peer through its pcriscopc eye foi horizon smoke that may mean liner or destroyer, now skirmishing cum ningly, within closer reaches for 6 hint as to whether to stab or fec, now speeding a torpedo straight against the bulging side of an unsuspccting merchantmen, and finally, detecting dancing dots upon the seq floor far away, but rapidly moving. sinking to safety and blindness under a sea floor already filtered with the dead and with the jctsam of sunkcn ship.
 Swordfsh and Shark.
 Then darkness and after a while another picture. The submarine huntcrs-swordish seeking the shark break across the horizon line, com ing at the pace of limited train, coming straight and true, convcrging from half a dozen different compass points for the exact area of oily bub- blcs that mark the spot where the shark divcd.
 Six swordiish arc arrived, six slim motor launches, all of a type, all beautiful to tllc eye, all efficient to the last throb of their 50-knot engines They swarm over the spot, hawk circling, signalling by flag and Scma- phorc, striving like hounds picking up scent, then darting outward toward the horizon, each on an appointed