The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1929-12-06

he is, and to get what news you can
Of him and perhaps him.
self thoughtfuIly and deliberately
the old man may be in want-take
enough with you to help him should
he require 1t. OF course you will act
according to your own plans and do
what you think best-BUT FIND
LIVINGSTONEp"
On the True Trail.
After such an interiew with his
superior, what real reporter would
have refused to tackle the job?
Stanley embarks on his quest. 1t Is
as hard quest as any newspaper
man ever did embark on Alongside
of this task, finding lost needle In
a strawstack seems easy. The COM
mission Is that starting inland from
one coast. he shall invade an un-
tracked void and push ahead and con-
tinue to push ahead until somewhere,
somehow, in that vast equatorial I'm
mensity he comes upon lone white
man trekking toward him from the
other side thousands of miles away.
Either to find that white man or his
grave and to fetch back the word
this Is what Stanley has to do.
Months and months later the civil
lied world is to throb with excitement
at news of a marvellous thing accom-
plished. But first, Stanley. heading
a caravan of natives, Is to endure un-
speakable privations. Is to be beset
by all manner of dangers and delays
hostile climatic conditions, wearisome
palavers with fierce and suspicious ne
groes, swift torrents, reeking jungles,
white-hot plains, wild beasts, the peril
of infection from a skinned foot. of
fatal fevers from bad water, of poison
from tainted food, of treachery from
his own men, of spear thrust be-
tween his shoulders from an unseen
lurking enemy in thicket.
He is quite solitary; once he quits
the shore settlements there is no man
of his own race OF whom he may seek
advice or aid. He is beset by doubts
as to his course, by misgivings as TO
the final outcome, by fears, not Of dy-
ing but of failing.
Finally he strikes hot trail. Not
far from Lake Tanganika-the African
map will tell you its location-he In
tercepts file of friendly blacks who
tell him through his Interpreter that a
white man, an old whit, man who has
white hair on his face and who is weak
and ailing and who came in the opposite
direction from the quarter out Of
which Stanley Is moving, has Just
reached town called Ujiji. which Is
distant from this place of meeting
only a few European miles. Ujiji-
1t is a name which shortly will echo
around the world.
A Victorious voIIey.
The feeble traveller must be Living
stone. There can be no other white
man, sick or well, within countless
thousands of square miles. Exultant
now, Stanley shoves on by forced
marches. But he is stopped by the
sub-chief of a strong tribe demanding
tribute on behalf of his master before
the intruder crosses the Intervening
territory. Eventually, after almost
coming to grips with the greedy king"
over the amount of payment. Stanley
is permitted to pass. He drives his
exhausted men forward. In a fever
of joy he sights from the crest of a
steep mountain the giittering bowl of
the Lake Tanganika, and on beyond,
the tall ranges which cup it in. Let
Stanley take up the story:
San immense broad sheet, a burn
ished bed of silyer-lucid canopy of
blue above-Iofty mountains are its
vaIances, palm forests form its fringes I
The Tanganika l-Hurrahl And the
men respond to the exultant cry of the
Anglo-Saxon with the lungs Of STEM
tors. and the great forests and the
hills seem to share In our tri-
umph.
AT last the sublime hour has ar
rived-our dreams, our hopes and
anticipations are now about to be real
izedI Our hearts and our feelings are
with our eyes, as we peer into the
palms and try TO make out in which
hut or house lives the white man with
the gray beard we heard about on
: the MaIagarazi.
"'Unfuri the flags and load your
gunsr