Nobody who can, will tell just how it happened. When Dr. Barr did not come home, his friends found him by his dead horses and overturned buckboard. On the ground by him were one hundred and fourteen empty Winchester shells, and a number of prominent Arapahoe young men were missing after that.

The first stop of the stage beyond Washakie is at the JK ranch. The Mexican stagedriver went fishing after we got there, and came back in a little while with a fivepound trout.

The JK ranch is a sort of hotel, and that evening there were several cow-men there. Just before dark a ranchman named Andrew Manceau came

along, driving a bunch of horses that had been out all winter on the range. He put them in the corral, and they ran round and round and would not be comforted. Manceau wanted to go home, but his saddle horse was tired. So he threw his rope over a beautiful pinto mare. Instead of

and just before I was to take the up-stage, the cook said to me, "We've got one of them noted characters livin' near here. His name is Teton Jackson. Don't you want to go and see him?" I had heard of Teton Jackson. A good many people have heard of him. He is one of the best of guides, and has a famous New York City clergyman and a noted artist among his patrons. Jackson caught some trout for our dinner. Taking an alder pole he managed in some way to cast a brown hackle anywhere he wished, right among the thick willows, where nine experts in ten would have been fouled the first cast. The trout in the creek were small, and he said the

an Eastern friend whom he guided last fall. Jackson leads a quiet life now. When we left he resumed the transplanting. of watermelon shoots to his irrigated garden patch. He hoped to raise the only watermelons within reach of the colored troops at Fort Washakie.

Two miles from the JK ranch house is Crowheart Butte, a landmark famous all over Wyoming. Situated near the centre of the Shoshone reservation, it is visible for miles in every direction.

Many years ago it was the scene of a great Indian fight. There are Shoshones living along the creeks now who were in that battle, and this is what they tell about it:

One fall several hundred Crows came down from the North on to the buffalo ground of the Shoshones. They got a supply of meat and had started home, when they met a large Shoshone party. There was a running fight for many miles. The Crows cut their horses' packs, but still the Shoshones overtook them. When some of the fleeing Crows reached the rim-rocks around the big butte they made a stand, to give the others a chance to get away. Finally a lot of the Crows took refuge on top of the butte. Here the Shoshones could not dislodge them, but they formed a cordon around the butte, and kept the Crows there for three days without water. Then the Crow chief came to the edge and dared Washakie, the Shoshone chief, to fight a duel. If Washakie was killed, the Crows were to go home in peace.

Washakie, with the advantage of food and water within him, went up, and with him his warriors, to see fair play. On the flat top of the butte they met. On one

side stood the beleaguered Crows, across from them their enemies. The two chiefs fought with knives, and Washakie killed his opponent. With yells of delight the Shoshones fell upon the poor Crows, and not one on the butte escaped. The Shoshones cut out the heart of the dead Crow chief, hung it on a pole and danced around it, and finally cut it into small pieces which they ate, to give them the courage of their departed foe.

At one end of the butte a little monument of flat stones is piled to commemorate the Shoshone victory. Washakie lived until very recently, and when he died he was given, at the fort that bears his name, a captain's burial. The Shoshone reservation will soon be thrown open to settlement, and its valleys will be pencilled with irrigating ditches. But a thousand years from now, when Crowheart Butte perhaps shall have lost its name, the eagles above it will have seen no more stirring spectacle than Washakie's victory of long ago.

T

HE "one-design" classes which have proved one of the popular successes of modern racing have met with some severe criticism on the ground that they are a bar to progress in the development of new ideas; but any possible evil in this direction is more than offset by the good they have done in the destruction of a popular fallacy which has existed from the earliest days of yacht racing. Not only the laymen, but the great body of practical yachtsmen, Corinthian and professional together, have for years paid homage to the model as the one vital, if not the only factor of speed. The evils that have followed in the wake of this belief are many and far-reaching in their effects. The designer is often most unjustly blamed for results due entirely to causes far outside his power; on the other hand, the good work of a skilful skipper has failed to win recognition through the entire credit being given to the boat. Worst of all, in its deterrent effect on real progress, is the false and misleading verdict of the public, which, by ascribing all results to the merits or deficiencies of the model, blinds itself to the many other vital factors which bring success in match sailing.

The "one-design" classes have proved an object lesson that none could gainsay; here are a dozen or twenty yachts built by the same workmen from a single last, just as a shoe is made; and, in spite of another cherished superstition that it is impossible to build two boats exactly alike, as nearly identical as any product of modern duplicating processes. The sails are all of the same dimensions and material, made by the same workmen, and spars, blocks, and fittings are identical throughout the fleet. The actual test of continuous racing, day after day for weeks, as in the famous thirty-foot class at Newport, shows as great a difference between the various individuals of this monotype fleet as is ordinarily found in the case of the same number of boats by different deVOL. XXXVI. 4

signers. Certain boats head the fleet persistently, others as regularly bring up the rear, and between them are a number which win few prizes but are seldom among the last in.

It is plain that the designer of such a fleet is no more to be blamed for the failure of some boats than to be praised for the success of others, and that the amazing difference is due to causes wholly apart from the model.

The work of the designer is the foundation on which the success of a yacht is built; his brain, from the accumulated experience of many years, conceives the external form of the hull and adjusts the innumerable details of ballast, balancing, and canvassing, finally planning the construction which shall endow it with concrete form as a living thing possessed of unknown possibilities of speed. This work, however, is but a part; it may be likened to that of the man who plants in the spring with the knowledge that the final success of his labors depends not on himself alone, but on those who, later on, will till and harvest.

The work of the designer nominally ends with the trial trip and the turning over of the completed craft to the owner, but this is only the initial stage in the creation of a successful racing yacht. Following it comes the second stage-weeks of careful, earnest work in testing the yacht under all conditions, determining the proper trim, experimenting with many different sails, and training the crew to work as one man. This work usually falls to the lot of the skipper, who will ultimately handle the yacht in the racing; but it is best done when skipper and designer work together in perfect harmony and mutual understanding of its import.

The third party to the success of a yacht is the owner, who may be helpful in one of two ways: either by leaving the skipper entirely to his own resources, with no attempt to advise or interfere, or by posting himself so thoroughly as to bc able to discuss tech

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nical details intelligently with the designer and the skipper. In the contests for the America cup within the past twenty years, it so happened that while the owners of the respective challengers have concerned themselves but slightly with purely technical matters, leaving everything to their designers and skippers, those at the head of the defense (whether as actual owners or the "managing owner" representing a syndicate) have treated the sport of Cup racing as a game of skill, studying it in its broadest aspects until they knew their parts as well as the designer and skipper knew theirs, and thus forming the third member of an almost invincible trio.

The lesson only lately learned through the "one-design" classes, of the importance of skilful management as compared with mere model, might have been mastered many years ago. Some few yachtsmen will recollect the schooner Eva, then the property of the late Pierre Lorillard and managed by the late Robert Fish, when she sailed in the New York Yacht Club fleet from Glen Cove to New London, on the occasion of the annual cruise. The wind was quite fresh and the course was a reach. Though but 74 feet long on deck, the little Eva was so skilfully handled that at one time she was about eight miles ahead of the fleet, which included among the schooners several quite large vessels, including Henrietta.

When the fleet reached New Bedford a match was made, without time allowance, between Palmer, Idler, and Eva, and was sailed in a strong wind, favoring the larger boats, but Eva, in spite of a bad tack which lost her considerable distance, was the second boat. The next year she again accompanied the cruise, but under new ownership and with another skipper; on the run to New London she was the last boat, nor did she in any way imitate her performance of the previous year.

When the schooner Cambria was here as the first challenger for the America Cup, in 1870, there had been some open races in which the schooner Palmer had shown to very poor advantage. Her owner, thinking that perhaps some new blood might work a change, made a match with Cambria, to be sailed off Newport, and obtained the services of "Dick" Brown, the pilot and yacht skipper who sailed the schooner

America in 1851, when she won the Royal Yacht Squadron Cup.

There was a strong breeze at the start and Cambria got out on the weather of Palmer and held there as though she meant to stay. Palmer was at that time a centre-board boat, and after "Dick" had the sails trimmed to his satisfaction he called the mate and asked him how much board she had? The mate replied "All we ever give her." "Is there any more pendant?" quoth the veteran skipper. "Yes." "Then give her the whole of it when I keep her off." Down went the board, and at once Palmer footed out from under the lee of Cambria and spun out a long lead; when she came to go "down wind," she increased this so much as to leave no possible ground for doubt as to her superiority-when sailed by "Dick" Brown.

It was on this same cruise that the schooner Sappho, fresh from her triumphant career in English waters, met Dauntless, the latter rather besting the champion. The result was a match, to be sailed in New York waters, and Sappho was put into the hands of "Bob" Fish, whose successful alteration of her in the previous year had made her such a success in her second visit to England. As Captain Fish was not a professional sailing master, but a modeller and builder of all classes of vessels, there was a strong feeling against him in certain quarters.

At the "Screw Dock" on South Street, where the yachts and pilot boats were regularly docked in those days, and where Sappho hauled out to be cleaned, her copper being polished and pot-leaded, the workmen made a large wooden fish, which they proposed to hoist on a pole after the race, symbolical of a dead "Fish." The race came off, but the fish was not hoisted, Sappho finishing with a long lead over Dauntless.

In this race double topsail halyards were used, probably for the first time; and as Sappho neared the weather mark her club topsails were sent aloft before the working topsails were taken in.

Coming down to more recent times, and perhaps venturing on delicate ground, there is an excellent instance of what can be done for and against a boat. When first altered to a schooner, the cutter Colonia was sailed by Capt. Charles Barr, who made a repu