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TO THE BITTER END. A Tale of Two Lives. CHAPTKR X. IN TDK CHAMBER OV UKATH ! A careless servant ha. I turned the vene tian blind* the wrong way, ami a struggl lug moon .vain bad forced its wuy into the lately bedchamber. Across the dark crim on carpel it catt long, trembling bar* of light, and shone on the stiff, cold sheet* of the canopied bed and on the ghastly face of the man who lay there. Hut it was a great room, and the poor little moonlicam could do uo more than feebly illuminate one very r mall corner of it. The rest was wrapped in a veil of tin. k darkness. Silent as the dead ! Silent as death ! Common phrases enough, nut peculiarly expressive. There was death m thu room, death and a deep breathless silence. For it wss the face of a corpse round which that mosnbeam was playing. Skilful ban.li had bandaged his throat and had laid out bin stiff. Melon* limbs, and , Ix>rd ALestou, Karl of Hairowdean, lay in slat', waiting for the morrow, when hi* body would go to its last resting phce. Hark ! A sound at last, breaking in upon the solemn stillness ! A strange *ound, too the low rustling of a woman's skirts along the broad corridor. Al lait it ceased just outside the door ; then was the Healthy turning of a handle, and a tall black form softly entered. The door was cloaed again. A>.'.'iii there was silence. n.r.ti-.l toward the bedxide, but slow- ly. Long before her dark form had emerged fioni the shadows the sound of her quick, anxious breathing betrayed her whereabout*. At last she glided out of the darkness and j n'.i .od lielween the window and the bedsine, | in the focui of the moonlight. The quivering beams pla;. ed upon a face set and rigid a* marble, ghostly and colorless, yet desperate. It was the face of the Countess of Harrow - il. i" She was close to th* bedside now, cloio to th* max -f odorous, swccl -scented flowers, whose delicate perfume hung heav- ily about the conlincd atmosphere close to that wl itc rigid form, colorless as the damask sheet* most awesome, most fear- inspiring of all human sights the corpse from which the last breath has parted, the last spark of life <hcd out. Once those lip*, now .-old a* clay, had burned against li.-i-. Once those eye*, now elated and dun, h i 1 looked foi.dly into her*, now tilled with a oft, gentle lute-light, now full of passion and lire, and iihe had loved him ! < Icil ! how (he ba<l loved him ! Three times stooping down, until her biealh fell hot upon hi* face, she str> out her hand, and three times she with- iliew it again She turned away with a little inotu of despair, like the last cry of a hunted animal. It seemed t.. h<-i that IHT , task wss an impossible one. She could not lou.'h him. It was si rilege, de-wci.itn.ii. It stirred into revolt all her emotion* ; he shrank trom it as from some denl of shame, and yet --yet it must he done, and now. To morrow Ihe opportunity would have gone forever. To n.oi low would IXT too late. Her baud denc.-nde.l again, and rested niton his arm. Ah ! il was there. The hand which she had been holding dropped heavily from her nerveless lingers and tell upon the heels with a little thud. She staggered hok against the wall and leaned there, crouching hack against it with her hands clamping IHT thmblung In ad anil here\i-< riveted II|HIII the sheets. Her white lip* moved slowly in a half-uttered prayer. < Hi for strength, a little strength, just to keep her from going mad ! When she moved again her limbs were till an. I her movement* mechanical. With- out hesitation she took up again his arm and turned the shirt-sleeve up above the elbow. The long whit, arm with its blue veins lay exported lo the moonlight, and high up x. mi-tiling was glistening and shin- ing in the tlooil of silvery light. Her linger* closed around it, hiding it from view Kor a moment her whole Irani* shook with vile, in-lit, and then a little sob of i f burst from ihe trembling lip*. -i."- withdrew her band and slipped some- thing into the pocket of her dressing gown. The lonii white arm lay there .till upon its bed of flowers and perfumed linen, lint Bomeli.ing had gone -something which had been there when tbat arm had flouiiihed a dripping sword nnd waved an eager regi- ment on to victory something which had liern there when that arm had Ten. '.V.I with th* fierce gesticulations of the orator who was compelling the wild tninultii.i.is applause of an excited senate house ..iin- thing winch h'ld been thcrr when the ariu which it had encircled had heen pressed by royal fingers. Dangers and sickness, triumphs and glory, it had arn, ami when the lant breath had quit led the body, and hi* life had gone oul like a suddndy quenched lamp, it had remained, llul se\er- ance had . nine al last. Another sound breaking the hushed si It-Hi i of (lie sleeping Louse ' Slight though il ^waa, nhe heard it, and the blood in her veins ran cold an ice from head to foot. Sha trembled, and her shaking knee* almost gave way beneath her. A footstep in the corridor! A. light, linn footstep, drawing nearer and nearer. It stopped, and her heart gave a gteal throb MIC i Int. bed at Ihe wall for aupporl, nhrmklng liack against it with reeling senses and witn dilated eyes fixed upon the door. Th* handle was softly turned, stall figure entered. She with the quivering moonlight shining upon her ghmtly face coiiviilicd with terror, be barely visible, stepping out limn the deop shadows. Mother and son stood face to lac*. i IIAI'II.K XI. I.MIHT*. At first it seemed to her as ihoiigh she inu-.i y,.|,| (,, the ileadly famine** wliic'i ftlreadv clouding hnr seines. Surely __^^^ bitlsoui dream the moojilight, tP'*i**. Mtul .in.! gh.i*tl v mthe p.l.- ! ie.li .nut.. ' -r^aml j noil's ing out uf HIM black _ drum, ui.l h" ^ gho*t t Ala*! n.>. srly parted, and the de.itl i < keu b^ hi- "I'M -k, ngtlitli d Ui iVhull.ui Ho pointed to the disarranged white garments, to the l>arc arm of the figure on thr bed. He axked no questions ; he simply pointed, aud looked at her. What did it mean ? Nothing which she bad imagined to her self had been no awful a* this. That she should stand fnc to face with him, of all people iu the world, and have to answer that look of almost fisrce inquiry. What should she do ? What should sli > <lo ? " I will tell you presently," she gasped. "A*k me nothing now I am faiut. This has upset me." With trembling lingers she re-covered his arm and smoothed down the Jraperiee on the bed. Then she turned lialf-fearfully round. He was standing .|iiite still, wailing for her, with a white, net look on IIIM face that made her heart sink. He wo* her HOD, but be would be a hard inquisitor. What was she U> tell him? Anything anything but the truth '. " 1 canuut stop here," ehesaid. " Take me )*ack to my room." He stretched out In* arm, anil she leaned heavily upon it. Slowly they moved across the darkened room and gained the door. Uutaidc, in the dimly lit corridor, ntie seem- ed to breathe more freely. "It wai foolish of me to come," she said in a whisper. He looked down at her. " You had a purpose ?" Ay, a purpose' Hsd she in t a purpose! Aud he waa seek- ing to know it ; no would try to wrcit it from her. He calm, strong, and self-re- hint, againU her weak, shaken, and fear- ful. How was she to resist him how to evade his questions' The thought of it made berthuddur. They had reached the door of her room, and she had paused, hoping th a he might go. Rut IK only waited until she had pass- ed in and then he followed her, closing the ilnir "tfter him. She sank wearily into her low chair and buried her fare in her hands. II" <ln w himself up before her and spoke. "Mother," he said, "am 1 asking you a hard, an unreasonable thing, when I ask you to tell me what motive you had in going (hero to-night, and what you had been doing T I think cot. Why should there be secrets Ixtween us? Am 1 not your son, and was he not my father as well as )our husband ? I will never real -never until I Lave discovered the secret of his death. I have sw< m it ' Dou'l you feel like that, too? You must t Let us help one another in this 1 Our object is the aamc ! He ceased, and wailed for an answer. None came. She kept her face hidden from him, buried in her hands ; and he thought at firil that she was weeping. Hat when she looked up he saw that the dry, burning eyes were tcsrfcai. "Mi.ther," he went on, speaking more rapidly, " it ha* been a new idea In m. si t.i(!cth*T that there should have been any mv-lei y or secret ..loud in connection with him. Yet something of tlie sort tn<re must have been, and forgivs mo but it seem* to ins tbat you must have known- must know a little of it. What does it all mean? Neiltson'a flight, yjur atrange manner, and your visit to hia room alone, and at tint hour? If you know anything at all and you must know a good deal- why not tell me and help me to gain a clus? Surely you cannot wish his murderer to escape? (toil forbid '" "It may be better so," she murmured. "Can you iloubl but that Cod will punuh ?" " That is what you said before, mother, ' he answered, "and I tell you again that <!od's nunihiiirnt would be too slow for inr I cannot rest while this thing remains undiscovered." Sin- nliook bur head. "Has it never occurred to yuu tbat this secret may lw one whmh it were !>-<t the world ill. I not know ? " she asid softly. "In idling me you are not telling the world," he answered. "Whatever il was, I sm his son and 1 luve a right to know it. I sm hii avenger, and I will know it. ' She looked at him calmly. Sooner or later tin* n.inl be faced. Heller now per- hitp. i ban ill any other limr. " Ncvrr from me," he said, in a low 6nn tone. He looked at her astonished. "Do yon mean llni, mother?" he ex- claimed. " I .lo." " Von mean that you will tell me noth icg? You mem iht tlMiiigh wlut ou know might bring Ins murderer to j-.is'i :*, \ "ii \till still k.-i-|i it vouriwlf " "I do, Ilernanl. If at thin inomenl I c-.uld see before me your father's murderer 1 would lot him g.i in peacr. I would not touch him. If he weisalivn, I amsurp th.it ho would rather tli it it hiiM 1> so." \Jj His lips iMiitctcd with disappointment, and a little, too, with nnger. ins mother's words only initatrd him Weak, feminine folly! What else wan if A milk .unl water doctrine of forgiveness tint found n. favor in this man's heart. His purpose was not shaken a jot. "Will you tell ma what \mi went doing iu his room to night?" lie asked. "At leant I ought to know this, a* I found you Ihcir." "No. I cannot." II" turned his luck upon her and walked to the door. She followed him with hr eyei softened now anil full of sad, wi-tfn' lii^lit. He wa> her son, her only son, and .nlif loved him. Surely he would nut leave her lima ! "Bernard," she cried, "you are not goinu away without even winhing me good night He paused with bit hand on the door kliol,. "I wish you good night, mother," h> aaid, coldly, without turning round; an. I li. left her. The tears which had so long been denit"! to her came at last. Hbe threw hprsrll npo.i the !M"I! in a passionate lit of *< i .in.) her whole frame wss shaken l>\ iiiiunl tuous aolie. When daylight strfameil un. .lie room and fell upon hei h.i^^ud, griet stained f.icr, she WIIH then still, exhaustr.!, .'t |.ing a troaldeil sleep. nik! soun<l* 111 the atreel liei, andsho roseaiiil i -.mi '7fl.s.Jiv.il. U nt the ro,,ni. I I'"' band, lo hr7T|| man to boar up rj a. ncriTslir wonrlorml. Niirdv lo theaxony ,,f I,,., ^reatlo. -I now an ovorwhelmina hi<lo,, 4imV Slowly, but with aghartly distinct- ness, the last night's scene in the death- chamber passed before her feeling brain ! H* had discovered her ! He had asked her tea ^ou -alien that one question which sue would never dare to answer. H > had left her in auger, in anger none the less terrible because il was so cold, so self contained. Hu suspected her. perhaps of whit, ihe dared uot think. Wa* it not tor hi* sake a* well a* her* thai she was fighling this battle ? And she coal.l not show him why! Mho could not s'low him why it were better a thousand time* betlcr to let hi* father'* murder go un- avenged to let the whole terrible tragedy ink into tin- still water* of oblivion! She had lost her husband, and now she was to lone her son ! What had she done or left mi. lone wherein hod she sinned, that Fate nhould deal with her so cruelly? The morning stole on and the distan t pounds of the awakening household reached her ears. For the first time she realued that night hod come and gone and as yet her bed had been unalept in. Soon her maitl would be coming with her tea and would notice it would talk aud gossip ! about it below -the oue thing which it was i most necesssay to avoid. Wearily she ' itood up, disrobed herself and crept within the sheet*. She had no hope of sleep, nor ilid il com* lo her. How wan it possible with so sore a heart and burning a brain a* here? When Marie, her ladyship's French maid, softly entered the room about half an hour later and brought the dainty tea equip- age to the side of the bed, she wa* shocked beyond measure to aee the feverish liklht in her mistress' wide-open eyes and the terrible ravage* which a tingle night had made on her face. With her lillle I hands slrelched out, and her shoulders al- most on a level with her ears, she Mas not 1 alow to express her consternation. " Ah ! but your ladyship is ill," she ex | claimed, volubly. ' Tru mo/ode. Miladi ban had no sleep ! Ah ! ijtitl dommayt, </></ ilmnmaij" !" she added, in a tone of deep commiseration. Lady Harrowdean look her tea and made no reply. "Not that any of u* have had much sleep," Marie continued in hushed whis- per, with a half fearful, altogether myster- ious glance around. ~'Mo\ mtmt as for myself, my eyes hve been not once closed. It was not possible. Did your ladyship hear anything anything strange in the night?" Ltdy Alcenlon set her cup down and hook her head. Her hand wa* trem- bling so much that she could hold it uo long- er. "No, I heard no sound. Nothing." "There were snme strange, oh, such strange noises," Marie continued in an awed ard with appropriate gestures. ' Several of us heard them. Myiwlf , 1 was o frightened that 1 did draw the I *! clothes clone around my ears and did very in arly brick. Ah, but it was horrible :" aud she wound up with an effective little shiver, a* though the memory of her fright wre still oppressing her. Her ladyhip turned her face upon her pillow ai.d closed her eye*. " Draw the curtains around the Led, Marie," she directed. " I shall try loslsep for an hour or two. " "It would lie well for miladi," Marie murmured, as she olieysd. The bod was u r-'tcii.-h one, snd Ijidy Alccston wss now in- visibleout of sight of the tell-tale rays of untight and tlie black, questioning eyes of her ma.d. "One moment, Marie, "h* said, as Ivtr maid was gliding softly from the room. " What sort of noises were those that you bran), and in what part of the house? I hfpf that no thieves have been about." Marie paused and advanced again toward the bedside, glad to have an opportunity of resuming the subject. " Footstep* and muffled voices, your lady- ship," she naid impressively, "and in the long i-orri.loi too, near near the room where hi* lordidup is. Thomas has search- < I m every place, tr matin, hut there arc no signs of any one having entered the house, and nothing is missing. We all thoughl that your ladyship must have heard them too, and we dreaded every moment thai we should hear your ladyship's hell." Tin re was uo sound from th* bed for a few moments. Then her ladyship answered in a slow, deliberate tone: " Ko.tlish girls ! you imagined it all. I was awake all night, ami I heard no noises of any sort. There could have been nothing to cause thrm " Mane was |-rfectly unconvinced, 'jut ilar cd express her dissnt in uo other wuy than by a hrug of her shapely shoulder* and .1 must suggestive silence. Her ladyship, who wa* watching her through a chink in the "in i uni. fiowned. "If 1 hear any thing more of Ibis, Man*," he said quietly, " you or anyone else who mention! it will leave my sci vico at once. I >o you understand ' " Marie arched her bla k eyebrows. She vt.is surprised, but she was too well trained a aervant to show it. Miladi's wishes should be olieyed, she murmured. Thr suhje.-t *houl<! not l>e mentioned again by her, or by any one else- if shr could help it. At what hour would miladi please to rise ? Miladi mad* no reply. Her thoughts were otherwise engaged. A certain act of imprudence had just, occurred to her. " Marie," she said abruptly, " there is a in my ro.-kiug-chair. I want "Miladin ill," she exclaimed, taming quickly round. " I am a little faint, Maria," was the an- swer. " Help me into bed." v 'arie did so, keeping up at th aarr.e time a running tire of haU-a'Imonitory, half- consolatory chalter. MiU.li had overtaxed her strenglh. She must have quiet and n:s*. or she would not be able to attend the funeial. U Ho WV * III- II 41 IT*. Ill- Kxeerleaee efa Bel4 Marlsier la Ike Urasp ff A frlcktesirel BesuU Up to 1452 the sea-elephant was found in grett numl>ers a onx the shores cf Southern California and Mexican Islands, a h-:4 'A between 100 and '.IK) being seen in that year ; . l.ut so valued were they for their oil that II was fceliah lo have gol out of . lh<jr exttrmin tion ne r | y completTaT Mans searched and shook her head. There was no newspaper there. " Well, then, m thn pocket of my dress- ing-gown," the muUreai ordere I sharply. Marie- took up the gtrment, shook out the folds, and felt iu the pockets. They were empty. " Then it must ba ou the floor by th* side of the chair," her ladyship aaid anxiously. Mane went down on her hands and knee* and looked about In all direction*. Again her search was unsuccessful. There was no paper anywhere about. She rose with llu-.li ..I laco, and with her coquettish l.ttlc white i pi on all crumpled, and mode her report. " Bring mo my drcesmg-gown at once," ordered her mistre**, in a strange, sharp tone \l u le otx>yed, wondering, but in silence. On- saw with mnprine that her imstre-** u ui.U were lit-mbling, and that lie seemed lv agitated. They searched about to- gether for a ft w miiiutr* but in vain. The |>ai>er wan gone Lad) M iiiowdean was the first to ,.i. ;n Inn tlie search. Marie followed her example it mi -e with a sigh of relief. Shu stood lie (ho glass for a m.. incut to straighten hulr. Hnhind her own face in. I it bed and upset herself alwul a newspaper Thomas should go out an j get another on*. Would miladi say what new-paper u wa aud what date she required? Lady A Ices ton made no reply. She seem- ed not to have heard certainly she did not heed her maid's sympathizing remarks. When she had finished she said mini ly : "Tell Thomas to go to Lord Bernard's room, and ask him lo com* 'o my dressing- roam for a minute. I wi*h to speak to him." Marie withdrew with her head in the air, little olfeuded. Miladi wss making a great fug* about a paltry newspaper ; and j taucy oeudiug for Lord Bernard at this hour in the morning ! It wo* too ridicu- lous. Sho descended into the servant*' hall, and delivered her message to Thomas. Instead of obeying her order* he ahoak his head. " Taln't no use, my dear," he said pat- ronizingly. " Lord Brrnarj i* bout." Marie stamped her little foot impetuous- " Nor.sensa ! Oon* out at this time of the morning ! You are too lazy to go and see, you you OTOJM fcele .'" Thoma* grinned and sat down to his breakfast. "Co it, mademoiselle," he said. "Call me all the names in your heathen calender, if you like. It don't hurt me. I rather like it." Marie tossed her head, and looked at him with (lashing eyes. ' Are you going to obey miladi, and de- liver her message to Lord Bernard?" she asked threateningly. " No, my dear, I am not," Thorns,! an- swered, crossing hi* leg* and sipping his ' colfee slowly. " And why not?" " Because I don't know where to rind him. " " He is in his room. He never rise* be- fore nine. " " Well, he has done so this morning, at any rate," Thorns* remarked. "As I aaid before, he has gone out. I ought to know, for I let him out myself." " Out at this time in the morning t Why didn't you tell tiu so before, then you stu- pid?" .lamped her foot at him and whisked out of the room, Thomas leaned back in his chair and looked alter her admiringly. " Wiiat a little spitfire she is, ' he solilo- "|ui/ed. " Wonder what her ladyahipwant* Lord Bernard for so early. Seem* queer ' And his going out, too, and them noise* in the night. Dashed if it don't seem very- queer !'" And he would have thought it queerer still if he could have heard the low muttied cry winch broke fiom l<ady Alceiton's whit* lips, after Marie had delivered her niextge aud departed. " He has seeu it !" she moaned. "He has gone there. Oh ! if he should -if h* should " (TO BS ' iNTIVt KO. I The farmer U Bfrrt-Der I Iff. That time of the year is fast coming when the farmer becomes more than ever tn typ- ical natural man. Like the story o! tlreek mythology in which Ant.ei* is represented as regaining his strength for conlict by simply touching the earth, all humanity in the suinmer days is possessed with an irre- sistible decire to get into close contact with untame.l nature The artificial life of the t-ity becomes irksome *nd unbearable, and men gladly get away to whatever of rur ality their purse will purchase for them. Many turn amateur farmers thus showing the innate tendency in that direction ; and others satisfy the same appetite by "suin- mer Ixiarding " at a farm house. These holiday-makers, of course, bear none of th* heavier burden* of the fanner'* life, and in contending that the farmer is very near the ti'id intended type oi mankind, we do nol pretend that the burdens of hi* lot are providential or light. Oil the contrary they are man-made and heavy, and their presence is banishing from this continent Ihe leisurely class of farmers who once tilled it* soil and mad* up the back-bone of the coi'imoiiwealth. Mill, ihough hard worked and troubled about the financial outcome of his season'* labor, the farmer is for all that happier at hot torn in the very act of labor than his cny . .mm. He is uot constantly filled with a nervous, restless longing for some tiling else. The soflair and bright suu do not disturb him at his work with a hint to hi* inner ssll lhas he naturally should lie living more in their midst. The farmer is in uni on with the season, doing just the work that everything about him suggest* ahoubl lie done doing too much oi it often, but nevertheless keeping in tune with nature. As he grows wiser politically and under it ind* that the ballot was given him not to help beat some fellow farmer of another party, but lo get for himself the beet condi tions in which lo labor, he will not be com pel led to wear himself thin and hard with toil and will be able to en joy the advantage he possesses over the reel of humanity. During the winter h* is perhap*, at a disad vantage. That is the natural time for the race lo do it* buying and selling and the intricate modern development* of these fun damentalacts ; but with spring the era of production comes again and trie farmer i* i ight iu the liue of nature. All over the world h* i* slowly learning that really all power lie* in his hands. He <tanda at the fountain and can work his will with the stream that Hows past his feet and of which all the people of the earth must drink. Nothing serious would happen to the general run of folks if the law court* wore to take a year's vacation, but the centres of coinineive tremble when the farmers of llusxia have a poor crop. 'Ihe gap i* lille.l hv the farmers of Canada, I 'mini States and other wheat growing countries ; Lnt what would happen if the failure of the rop in Russia were artificial -lik* the .losing of a cotton null by a "combine" in. I all other farmers banded togelhxr to take advantage of the scarcity' A combine of farmers were such a thing poaslhl* A. mid hold the world iu its grip as the l.rrn pslmnl Moloch held hn. \ i.-tims. It 11 in ihe interest* of liberty thai no such combine" M poxMhIe. but the very conocp- :i.-n of U will show the farmers what th.-v .ul.l do if they got nearer together and jluilied their own interest*. thai of rytina an animal attaining a length of thirty feet and a weight of many tons. Thai the ancient inhabitants ot these is- lands captured the tea elephant there il little doubt, as parts of its remains, as well as implement* made of liones, have been found in the graves. The animals came ashore at the moat inaccessible points and crawled up the rocks, often many feet above the ocean. " How the Indians caught them," said an old sea elephant hunter, " I don't know, but I can tell you how we managed it, and how I was nearly kil'ed by one years ago. " In the fifties we had a big oil fishery on the Pacific coast, and sea elephants consti- tuted almost one-third of the catch. We j ha 1 sen oners thit lo .ked something like jthe flrand Hanks vessels, but heavier; these had outfits for seal, sea lion, sea ele- phant and aea otter, and we did the busi- ness up so slick that you can't find an otter or s a elephant for love or money to-day at least wilbout a big hunt. " When ths season commenced, we aet sail from San Francisco, aud spent the time at Codroe, Catalina.C'lemeute, San Nicholas and other islands on the coast. Thr otter we found off the kelp beds, but the lions and elephants in the rookeries of their choice. On the south side of Catalina was a famous spot for them. Hundreds of barrels of oil we took from here. " On the trip in question," continued the old hunter, " we inlended bagging an entire herd, and had sent a man down to the island of Cedros to watch the elephants and study their ways, if possible, so that, when we got there, there would be no time lost ; and it proved to be a good scheme. We sighted the isltnd late one afternoon, and before dark our man came off in his dingey, and told u* that in a little cove, bordered by rocks, was a big herd of elephants, and that by taking them at a certain time every one could be killed. This was good news, a* you may imagine, and that night we fixed up a plan of attack. Our man was to go ashore and signal when every thing was all right, and we were to go around in boats and go in with a rush, driving them inland. " At U the next morning we saw the signal a white flag or cloth on the rocks, and quietly getting into ibe boats, with guns, clube, and other toggery, we pulled away. It was not far, and as ire made the point of rocks we had a glimpse of a mas* of black forms resting on the sand. The only way to get up to them was to ran alonp the rock*, creeping from one to another, stop- ping every now and then to see if they were still there. As luck would hare it, there was a big point of rocks near the cove, and we got behind that without alarming the elephants, and at the word we made a rush, tlirec men making along the beach on foot the other hand coming from the opposite side, while the boats came in the mid. lie. "The animals couldn't get out without rnnning over us, and for a moment they didn't eeem to realue what was up : in tact the men on the left got right on to them and shot a big bull before they began to stampede. They first started for the water. Some tried to break through and were shot, hut the bulk of them started inland in a body, we after them, firing into them on all sides and laying them out with clubs. We had gone about fifty yards, I think, when, the leader stopped, and, with a snort, turned : all followed suit, and down they , .ime, pell-mell. It was ao sudden, that be- fore I knew it. I was knocked down and rolled over, a big cow fairly hauled herself over me. Then I pulled up, and seeing I was iu the crowd and going to be jammed I ran with them ainl used the stock of my musket to knock them on either side. This worked for a few minute* ; thsn the stock broke, and the next thing I know I was in the air and being shaken like a rat. I soon lost consciousness, an I when I came to I was lying ou the beach propped up against a sea-elephant, the men swabbing me with cold water. It seems that a big bull had grabbed me, as they will when lighting, lifting me into the air, and shaken th* senses out of me, then droppe.1 me among the rocks. It happened that I fell between them in such a position that the rest of the ammtls slid over me. It wa* the narrowest escape 1 ever had in my life. We took over fifty of the elephants, about a third getting away." The sea elephant is almost, if not quite extinct on the California coast. The writer visited tne old rookery on Santa t'atalma Island in th* suinmer of 18S5I. and uot oue was seen. The former haunt for them is a rock con uected to the land during the low tides, but at other times is almost constantly swept by heavy MM, so that in storms th* seals ana ea lious now living there are forced to the extreme upper portion, where the *ea often make* a clean break over them. A single skull was recently found on th* is! in. 1 tearing a bullet hole, perhaps liter- ally the last of the sea elephants. This aea-elephant is probably th* same p.vies a fourd in the South Pacific, and being exterminated by the sealer* on such desolate island* a* Inaccessible, and others. Informer, thousands of three animals are still found, but usually on the beach, where there are heavy Breakers, making it impce- ible for boat* to land The sealer* her* keep gangs of men upon th* beach, who patrol it with long whips, beating the an- imals off shore, so that they will land where they can be made available. Sum* years ago *ome crews who did not understand the condition of affairs killed a largo number of ca elephant* her.* and tried out the oil, storing it in barrel*, only then finding that they could uot get them away ; so a torch was applied and a magnificent Iran-fire blazed up. The sea-elephant is a line looking animal, especially the male, which is often three times the sue of the female, attaining a length of twenty-two feet. The female has n.. proboaois, the nostril extending a little over the itioulh. The nroboecis m the male extends from opposite the angle ot the mouth forward from ten to riitc.-n inches, depend- ing upon the sue of the animal. When th* animal i* not excited it probowi* makes kut little show, hut in excitement it become!) in- tUm.-d, calling to mind the proboscis of the elephant ; hnce the name. Th* axioms to men i'lnoceut, h*v k*cett ihe problems of mea fallen.