The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-07-01

lhlS ChdmplohShlp ndu come to mn belt.
 He fumbled inside his shirt when he told me this, and produced the belt it. self. It was little enough to look at just strip of leather, with a rib bon of gaudy colors spliced into slits manner of handling the thing that he prized 1t. He said as much.
 I'll tell you what" he told me. I'd sooner lose my silver mounted Mex saddle than this belt" he says. If I had saddle" he says
 Along with this belt and champion ship had come hundred dollar purse; and twas that had gallied him. He'd never put fist to that much money before; and he upped anchor for Frisco to spend it. The first night he was there he had the mis- fortune to go to sleep in the wrong place, and so he woke up seasick.
 And barring the month l was on that island where you got me-" he says, T haven't had the full use of a meal since."
 It was true the man was amazingly subject to seasickness. And what with that, and what with the hand ling given him by a bucko mate on the schooner on which he had been shanghied, he had an unhappy few months till his chance came at Ton Sataboo and he slipped overheard and | ashore. The schooner sent a boat load of men to hunt him all one day, but he hid till they were gone, and there he had been, living from all he said, ond the strength of his smile and his quick tongue.
 1 have said the mans stomach was not made for the sea. That is true. Most men can get accustomed to wrestling with the heave of deep water under your keel; and though on the early days of the v'y'ge. you tro1o in tIoo rIo1o +,I, hanging over the rail to loo'ard, they get their legs in a day or so, and no more trouble.
 But this man-Red Simpson, he called himself, and half of that name at least he deserved, for his thatch was the color of whales spout when your lance has loosed the life in him-thiS man was different. They tell me horse is an unsteady craft to ride, and he, by his own tale, had ridden many and various horses so that his legs looked as though they might have been molded over an oil cask when they were soft, but he staying still for him to step on. Anything above a whisper of wind meant that his last meal was so much good victuals gone wrong.
 Every man has his own cure for seasickness, and every man on the Slilp Hdu try at curing Red Slmp- son. But Pitchpole Dawson, the chief officers harpooner, had more per severance than the rest It was him that tried the blubber cure, persuad- ing Simpson to swallow lump of blubber with a bit of yarn bent to 1t. When Simpson was himself again, he sWore the cure was worse than the disease, and would try nothing more that Pitchpole suggested
 The affair should have been a warning to Simpson to beware of Dawson's advice. But no. Pitchpole set himself to initiate Simpson into the ways of whales, and he worked hard at it, running afoul of Simp- sons ready tongue right along. I overheard them one day when Simp- son was scraping the spanker boom under Pitchpole's eye.
 When you come whaling" Pitch pole was declaring, you come to drag | thread. Thousands and thousands or dollars In good oil and sperm, and maybe a hunk of 'gris that's worth it's weight In gold and more."
 simpson was not impressed. "A bunkie of a friend of mine ashore" he says, "he found prospect that showed good color and sold 1t out right for hundred thousand. You'll broncho- busting is no lady's game" eyed pinto that can recommend; and l ueSlre to state, my friend, that not beat that with your fishing"
 Aye" Pitchpole agreed. But gold hunting ashore is woman's game none of the stuff that puts hair on your chest Aye, there's no game that beats whaling for mans game"
 If it's excitement you're wanting" says Simpson, T know a little white
 Just riding horses?" Pitchpole asked, and he laughed in a provok- ing and suggestive fashion.
 "Why, listen," says Simpson, get ting red as his hair with enthus- iasm. Listen, till I tell you how l won this belt, friend" And he reaches inside his shirt and loosens that belt and pulls it out. See that, he brags. ,"Lemme tell you there's not cowpuncher in Wyo- ming wouldn't give his eyes for that. But femme tell you"
 "I come to sea to get shet of horses, says Pitchpole. T was bred on farm, and I've driven horses