A Dead Face In the Window

1901

Crockford, the proprietor of a well known London gambling house, was made to play a queer role after he was dead. When one of Crockford's horses was poisoned just before the Derby, the misfortune brought on an attack of apoplexy, which proved fatal within 48 hours. Now, many of Crockford's friends had staked large sums on another of the gambler's horses, which was a favorite for the Oaks and which was disqualified by the death of the owner. Only the people in the gambling house knew of Crockford's death, and it was resolved to keep it a secret until after the race.

The servants were bribed and sworn to secrecy, and the conspirators on the day after the night upon which Crockford died had the body placed in a chair at a window, so that people returning from the track could see the gambler sitting there. He was fixed up to look as lifelike as possible and through the window and partially concealed from view by the curtains looked so natural that no one of the great crowd which came cheering by the house when on their return from seeing Crockford's horse win the Oaks suspected the trick.

The nest day it was announced that Crockford was dead, but it was years before the true story leaked out.

Australian Sheepdogs Are Marvels at Their Work

1915

Have Been Brought to a High Degree of Intelligence

Sheepdog trials may be considered a national pastime if not a national sport in Australia. There is an annual agricultural show in every town and village in the pastoral parts. There are general competitions on the lines of the American county and state fairs. There are horse races, buck jumping, shearing, log chopping, and other strenuous competitions.

But not one of these excites more interest than the sheepdog trials; and in these tests Australians have set the example of certain of the most serious tasks that a man and a dog may be asked to accomplish with three strange sheep — sheep that they had never previously met until they had a moment before been turned out from three separate pens to be packed or gathered together by the dog.

It was the Australians who first put forward, and they still maintain it, the maltese cross test. The eight six-foot hurdles are set in the shape of a maltese cross. The passages are of a width that will permit only one sheep to pass through at a time. The animals have to be driven north and south and east and west, all the passes being open at the time. The skill and patience of the dog are here tried to the utmost, and there can be little wonder there is a gasp of satisfaction and a cheer of joy when the sheep have been successfully driven through these narrow ways.

The Australian sheepdogs are the smallest in use in the world, but are quick and lively in their work. It is no wonder that the Australian gives much thought for his dogs, for it goes without saying that the work of the sheep station could not be accomplished without them. In ordinary cases it is reckoned that one dog can do the work of half a dozen men; in many instances a dog is superior to 50 humans; and where there are such vast flocks of nimble sheep, such as the merinos in Australia are, it would be impossible without the dogs to round them up so that they may be examined, counted, and duly looked over.

Large Sums Wagered on Fighting Crickets

1920

Marines Back From China Tell of Orient's Popular Sport

SAN FRANCISCO, Cal. — Cricket fighting is a very popular sport in China, according to U.S. Marines who just returned here from a tour of duty in the Orient.

"The most celebrated cricket fights are those at Fa-ti, near Canton," says one of these sea-soldiers. "A number of sheds are provided, made of matting, and are divided into compartments. Each compartment contains a table with a vessel standing on it in which the encounters take place.

"Big contests are waged, the attendance is large and betting is heavy. Final results are posted conspicuously. Crickets are matched according to weight and color.

"When a cricket with a long record of victories dies its owner puts it in a tiny coffin and buries it, believing that funeral honors will assure him good luck in finding good fighting crickets."

A Wild Leap in the Dark Over A Precipice

1916

Climax to the Reckless Ride of a Fearless Horseman

HIS WILD LEAP IN THE DARK

It Carried Horse and Rider Pact the Edge of a Sheer Cliff to a Tall of Two Hundred and Fifty Feet to the Rocks and Water Below, Yet the Man Lived

Perhaps the most extraordinary fall that a human being ever survived is that described by Thormanby in his "Sporting Stories." The lucky man was Colonel William Yorke Moore, a British officer, who rode his horse in the dark over a sheer precipice 247 feet in height and came out alive! It seems incredible that such a fearful experience should result in anything but instant death, yet here are the facts, which once again confirm the adage that truth is more wonderful than fiction:

Colonel Moore, who commanded the troops at Dominica, lost his way one evening after sunset. In complete darkness he endeavored to make his way home. Two or three times he had difficulty in making his horse cross obstacles, and at last they came to something that the horse would not face.

Colonel Moore was a fearless rider. Again and again he rode his horse at full speed against the unknown obstacle, but in vain. At last, urged fiercely by whip and spur, the terrified animal, with a snort of terror, cleared the low hedge — for such the obstruction proved to be — and went over the cliff.

Colonel Moore says that during his flight on horseback through the air every event of his whole life seemed to pass in a luminous panorama before him. Suddenly there came a terrific concussion, which deprived him of his senses and left him with his legs in the sea and his body on the rocks, apparently dead.

He must have lain there stunned for some hours, for when at last the lapping water and the cool breezes restored him the moon was shining brightly in midheaven, and its beams fell upon the upturned, glittering shoes of his gallant horse, which lay dead and mangled beside him.

As soon as he had collected his scattered wits Colonel Moore coolly began to examine himself to ascertain what injuries he had sustained. He found that he was severely cut about the body and head, that his right ankle was dislocated and that his back was benumbed or paralyzed by the concussion of his fall.

When the sun rose it shone upon his bare, bleeding head with such intolerable heat that, as a protection from its rays, he tied his cotton handkerchief about his forehead. Above his head projected the two ends of the knotted bandage stained crimson with his blood.

After lying in horrible pain for several hours he spied a boatful of natives rowing toward the spot where he lay. As they came near he hailed them in a faint voice, but the moment they saw the ghastly figure of the colonel, with his bloody headdress, they set up a yell and rowed away as if 20,000 fiends were after them.

After some time a single black man came clambering over the rocks, intent on catching fish. He was within a few yards of the colonel when the latter hailed him. The moment he caught sight of the bleeding head and the blood stained bandage he, too, uttered a fearful yell, flung down his rod and line and scrambled off over the rocks as fast as his feet and hands would carry him.

The colonel now began to resign himself to the prospect of a lingering death, but fortunately his English servant, alarmed at his master's absence, went in search of him and, following the horse's tracks, at last came to the edge of the precipice.

The sudden disappearance of the hoof prints near the low hedge fence convinced him that an accident had happened. He ran to the barracks and got out a boat, which a party of soldiers rowed to the foot of the cliff.

Very tenderly and carefully the soldiers lifted the colonel into the boat and brought him back to the barracks. For some months he lay in great pain and danger, but in time the paralyzed muscles of his back recovered, and eventually he was restored to complete health. Not even the slightest touch of lameness remained to remind him of his fall.

—Stevens Point Daily Journal, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, July 29, 1916, page 6.