Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1937-01-21
Bob>@9s
Ddvi/XX,,2
Mtun6RHl1Ij:
Greatest Adventurer Is Unaware
of Right to Title,

of Right to Title.
M EVER in history has there
4 = been a lack of courageous
men; at least, never a shortage
of intrepid souls whoswere will
ing to break lance with fate.
Theirs are the sagas that sur
vive the ages, to be told where
ever men congregate to swap
tales of danger and daring.
Years ago, New York boosted an
Adventures club Those who had
come to grips with life and lived
to tell the tale asked nothing more
than a few listeners. When a man
held the floor he had his say to
the end and none took exception
to the form or content of his mar
rative. One night the chairman, in
this case Arthur Sullivan Hoffman,
invited those present to relate dra-
matte chapters from their own ex-
perience.
Robert Richie, Z visiting inter-
national journalist, called upon to
contribute a yarn, had this to say:
Adventure is not necessarily
based upon thrilling eventualities.
What is adventure to one man may
be deadly monotony to another. 1t
resolves itself into point of view.
The greatest adventurer I ever
knew was quite unaware of his right
to claim such title, and yet, when
one takes into consideration the de-
tails of his magnificent intrepidity,
nothing, in my opinion, compares.
His name was Hermann Bland;
dead or alive today who knows.
I met him on steamer out of
Liverpool, en- route to India via the
Mediterranean, through the Suez
and down the Red sea. Small, wiz
ened and retiring was this man,
difficult of approach and, despite
my persistent efforts at ice break
ing, hard to crack. Not until the sec
ong week out did he evince the
slightest inclination to fraternize. I
had gone out Of my way to break
through the crust of his retreat.
His surrender was complete. This
was his story: Born in Hamburg of
an English mother and German
father, he came to England with his
parents, shopkeepers, provisioners,
I believe, and got fairly good
education, excelling in craftsman
ship, which led to map making.
Fate Tricks Hermann Bland.
cat twenty eight, Bland, or
phaned, but reasonably prosperous,
married a Welsh girl, who died
without issue after twelve years of
married life, leaving her husband
parcel of real estate in Cardiff.
Twenty years of uneventful life for
the map maker followed. Bland,
now sixty, with snug deposit in a
savings bank, to which he added
$500 pounds, by the sale of the
Cardiff property, making 1900
pounds for a grand total, resigned
from the map making establishment
and made preparations to see some
of the world that he had been chart
ing on paper for thirty-two years.
Where to 60? Why not leave it to
chance? That would be an idea
worth trying. Fate should decide
for him, and in the dark. So, Her
mann repaired to his sitting room,
switched off the light and CROPPED
his way to the center table, upon
which lay an atlas. Opening the
book at random, he stuck a pin
haphazard into the page under his
hand. Light! Which way now? The
cleaning pin stood upright in the
vitals of, a small lumber town in
northern Michigan. Well, if that was
destiny's plan, Hermann Bland
would let it ride. gg
"Within fortnight, Juggling two
Gladstone bags and a Burberry
buster, Hermann landed in the lum-
Der town, took room in a depot
hotel, and for a period of one month,
with never a complaint upon his
lips, stayed .on at this capital of
vast inconvenience, sweltering heat
and boredom.
"Three years elapsed before this
tourist minded man took an
other shot with a pin at the atlas.
This time, again in the Stygian
dark, he perforated the town of
Irkutsk, Siberia, into which, with
trunk and a heavy ulster, he
plunged by the shortest possible
route. One week was enough.
Patience Rewards Traveller.
"And now, gentlemen of the Ad-
venturers' club" said Richie,
glancing at Hoffman and steadying
his voice, II have brought you to
Hermann BANDS third trip out of
London in search of the great adj
venture, which he alone possessed
the vision to perceive. My FRIEND
said he to me as we emerged from
the Red sea, i have given you the
Michigan, and my trip to Siberia,
the memory of which kept me in
England for five years before I de-
cided to resume my travels. This
time, still in the darkness, I used a
map of the world, turning my face
toward the east. Long did I delay,
fearing lest destiny desert me for