Refugio Timely Remarks (Refugio, Tex.), Vol. 14, No. 46, Ed. 1 Thursday, September 10, 1942 Page: 3 of 12
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REFUGIO TIMELY REMARKS
Page Three
t
\
i
By ARTHUR STRINGER
W.N.U. SERVICE.
THE STORY SO FAR: To keep Nor-
land Airways in business, Alan Slade
has agreed to fly a so-called scientist
named Frayne and his assistant, Kar-
nell, to the wild Anawotto country of
northern Canada, where Frayne expects
to find the breeding ground of the trum-
peter swan. Slade suspects Frayne of
having other plans than swan-hunting,
but he has paid them enough to enable
Slade’s partner, Cruger, to buy a Lock-
heed they have been needing. Mean-
While, Alan gQes with Lynn Morlock,
daughter of the local doctor, to give
first aid treatment to a flyer named Slim
Tumstead, who has been hurt in a fight.
He learns that Tumstead knows about
the new plane and about Frayne. While
Slade is on his way north with Frayne
and Karnell, someone holds up Cassidy,
night watchman for Norland Airways,
and steals the Lockheed. All Cassidy
can tell Cruger is that the thief wore a
mask and that he headed north in the
plane. Now Slade and his passengers are
flying into a head wind, and Frayne has
just complained that they are not mak-
ing good time.
Now continue with the story.
CHAPTER VI
Two ragged old figures emerged from the shack door and ran about,
“It is very empty country.” the
swan-hunter observed.
“Fine and empty,” said Karnell,
who looked up slightly startled by
an admonishing elbow dig from his
companion.
“It’ll be better in an hour or
two,” Slade told them. “We’ll be
coming out on scrub timber and
heavier ridges. Then you’ll see your
last mine camp or two along the
Ashibik.”
He went on for half an hour of
silence, conscious of the two heads
bent over the chart, the mumble of
voices, and the repeated studious
peering through the poised binocu-
lars.
“Weather’s clearing,” he cried
out, half an hour later, when he
sighted blue through the torn wisps
of gray. “That means less wind to
buck.”
But a glance at his fuel-gauge
suddenly lowered his spirits.
“We can’t make the Anawotto,”
he announced as he retarded his
throttle to conserve fuel. “We’ll
have to land at Lake Avikaka and
fill up.”
Slade, pointing to his gauge, could
see Frayne’s face tighten a little
with annoyance.
“What is at Lake Avikaka?” ques-
tioned his passenger.
“Just two old sourdoughs who
have a camp there on the fringe of
Nowhere.”
“Sourdoughs? What are they?”
“Just two funny old birds who
happen to be friends of mine. I
keep a gas cache in their back
yard.”
He could hear the two voices con-
ferring. It gave him the feeling
of being excluded from something
that might be of importance to him.
“That’s the Kasakaha there, just
ahead of us,” Slade explained, “the
stream that looks like a twisted
wire. Wl’ll have about sixty miles
of it. Then we’ll land just where
it empties into Lake Avikaka.”
Frayne, tight-lipped, inspected his
chart.
“Who are these—these old sour-
doughs as you term them?" he
asked.
“Just two old lone-fire prospec-
tors who’ve panned gold and staked
claims all the way from Arizona
up to the Circle,” Slade explained.
“With an itch,” he added, “to be al-
ways pushing out to what seems like
the last frontier. They’re pretty good
old scouts. You’ll like ’em.”
Frayne’s expression failed to con-
firm that claim.
“For what do they prospect?” he
exacted.
“Gold, of course,” answered
Slade. “They won’t interfere with
your swan-hunting.”
Frayne’s side-glance seemed in
search of possible second meanings.
Slade looked for some sign of life
from the cabin between its shelter-
ing rock shoulders. All he saw, as
he nosed cautiously down to the
lake end, was a gray plume of
smoke from the shack chimney. It
impressed him, in the midst of the
gloomy ridges furred with stunted
timber, as a sort of pennon of valor,
a flag defying the forces of nature.
It was a brave little outpost, the
flyer repeated as he swung lower.
But he could catch no glimpse of
either Minty Buckman or Zeke
Pratt. And it was seldom he found
them far from that cockeyed old
windlass and hoist of theirs.
Then his heart lightened. They
must have heard him, after all.
For two ragged old figures
emerged from the shack door
and ran about the rock slope in
small circles, waving arms as
they went.
One figure wore an apron of butch-
er’s linen which he tore from his
shoulders and whirled in the air
while the other executed a creaky
dance step about him.
“Those old wilderness waifs are
sure glad to see us,” Slade observed
as his ship landed and lost headway.
Frayne did not share in his ex-
citement.
“We go on to the Anawotto,” he
suggested, “as soon as you have re-
fueled?”
Slade, stiff and tired, rose from
his seat.
“Not on your life. We bunk with
these bushwhackers tonight. I want
a hot meal and seven hours of
sleep.”
“But your friends,” said Frayne,
“are not my friends.”
“But come and meet ’em,” said
Slade, leaping ashore with his moor-
ing line. He was halfway up the
bank when the two old sourdoughs
descended on him. They circled
about him and slapped his shoul-
ders, shouting with shrill and child-
like excitement at the unlooked-for
break in their solitude.
“How are you, puddle-jumper! By
crickety, it’s Lindy!”
Slade knew, even before he felt
their hearty handclasps, that he was
among friends. They may have
looked uncouth in their patched and
ragged Mackinaws. But in the crow-
footed old eyes above the grizzled
whiskers he could see open affec-
tion.
“Bring me them darnin’ needles,
son?” questioned Zeke when the
body-slapping was over.
“Sure thing,” said Slade, produc-
ing a package from his jacket pock-
et. “Arid that oilstone you’ve been
hankering for.” Then he lowered his
voice. “How’s the color been show-
ing?”
“Swell,” said Minty. “We struck
a , vein that’ll make your eyes bug
out. But keep it under your hat,
son.”
Slade glanced toward his plane.
“I’ve got a couple of visitors for
you,” he announced.
The two old faces promptly hard-
ened.
“What’re they after?” was
Minty’s quick inquiry.
“They’re after swans’ eggs,” an-
nounced Slade.
“Swans’ eggs?” said Zeke. “That
don’t sound natural.”
“I know it, Zeke, but we’ve got
to take their word for it. They’re
headed for the Anawotto to dig out
the breeding ground of the trumpet-
er.”
Zeke, from under his shaggy
brows, inspected the strangers.
“How’d you know they ain’t field
scouts?”
Slade smiled at the concern on
the seamed old face.
“I’ll bring ’em up,” said Slade.
Solitude, he had long Since learned,
always left a bush-worker morosely
suspicious of unidentified intruders.
He had even known some of those
lone-fire gold-seekers to greet the
casual prowler with a flurry of buck-
shot.
Yet he himself was a little puz-
zled, when he reached the landing
stage, to find that Frayne had de-
cided to have his man Karnell re-
main in the plane cabin.
“You’re trie captain,” said Slade.
But his meditative eye passed casu-
ally. over the gas drums that stood
on the spruce rack which made them
so easy to roll aboard. And it was
always better to be safe than sorry.
He was whistling as he climbed
into the cabin and busied himself
for a minute or two with his instru-
ment board. Then, as his two pas-
sengers conferred at the water’s
edge, he quietly abstracted the mo-
tor’s breaker assembly and slipped
it into his pocket. He felt that it
was as well, all things considered,
to know that his Snow-Ball Baby was
definitely bedded down for the night.
“You’ll like these two old codg-
ers,” Slade persisted as he followed
the reluctant-footed Frayne up the
shore slope.
Frayne, however, remained silent
and abstracted as he entered the
shack where the smell of frying ba-
con mingled with the aroma of three
sourdough bread-loaves just turned
out of their baking pans. He noted
the glowing cookstove and the or-
derly dish shelves, the spring traps
and the shooting irons in the shack
corner, the wall bunks with their
abraded Hudson Bay blankets, the
floor rugs of wolfskin, the home-
made table and chairs darkened by
time and smoke. Everything bore
an air of frontier roughness, of in-
genious expediencies in a land of
strictly limited resources. But the
general result was one of craftily-
won comfort, of security obtained
through toil and persistence. Even
the meal the two old-timers pre-
pared for their guests was an am-
ple one.
But as the meal was made away
with an odd constraint hung over
the men seated about the rough ta-
ble.
“I see you have a radio,” Frayne
observed as he sipped at his sec-
ond cup of coffee.
Minty’s saddened eye regarded
the instrument.
“She’s been dead for seven
months now. Battery’s plumb gone.
And this-here air-robber’s freight-
charges 're so high we jus’ can’t
see our way to a new one.”
Frayne, Slade thought, looked re-
lieved.
“You are very much alone here,”
he observed.
“You’re tellin’ me,” said Minty.
“But we don’t reckon that as a
drawback,” amended Zeke, “seeiri
the two of us have kind of a hanker-
in’ for elbow room. Only time I
feel right lonesome is when there’s
folks around. Then I git a feeliri o’
bein’ hemmed in.”
Frayne’s eye wandered to the
shelf that held a pestle and mortar,
a long-handled quartz-roaster, a
dust-scales under a cracked canopy
of glass, an assortment of variously
mineralized rock of all colors and
shapes.
“How long,” he inquired, “have
you been here?”
“Well over two years now,” ac-
knowledged Minty.
“Have your labors been reward-
ed?” was the next casually put ques-
tion.
Slade could see the two pair of
crafty old eyes suddenly become ex-
pressionless.
“Not by a long shot,” protested
Zeke. “1 natcherally git a little out
o’ my winter trappin’, and this
shorthorn mate o’ mine brings in
enough game meat to keep us go-
in’. But we ain’t had what you’d
call a strike.”
“Reckon we never will,” said
Minty.
“It’s been hard goiri,” chimed in
his bunkhouse mate.
“How do you do your mining,”
asked the man of science, “without
power and machinery?”
The two old sourdoughs exchanged
glances again.
“Oh, you’d scarce call it minin’,”
ventured Zeke. “Most we do is
strip a bit along the back slopes or
hawk a speck o’ float gold from
the Kasakana sandbars.”
“Then it’s gold alone you are in-
terested in?” was the next question.
“That’s right, stranger. And
we’ve been that way for forty-odd
years now,” Zeke conceded.
“All the way from the old Rio
Grande up to the Porcupine,” added
the dreamy-eyed Minty, “not omit-
tin’ the Klondike. Now your main
interest, this young cloud-clipper
tells me, is swans’ nests.”
“My only interest,” amended
Frayne as he pushed back his chair.
“I am an ornithologist.”
The word seemed to puzzle Minty.
“Why, I seen a black-billed swan
on the lake here three days ago,”
Zeke announced. “He sure was a
beauty.”
“It is the trumpeter I am in
search of,” said the ornithologist.
Zeke scratched his head.
“And what’ll you do with him
when you git him?”
“It is my wish to obtain their
eggs,” said the other, “before they
are extinct.”
Minty got up and crossed to his
ore shelf.
“Speakiri of eggs,” he said,
“could you be spottin’ the bird laid
this one?”
His cackle was slightly derisive as
he produced an ellipsoid mass of.
black and burnished material almost
as big as an ostrich egg. The luster
of the oblate spheroid with the feath-
ering of light streaks made it look
as if it had been polished by hand.
“It looks like tar,” -Frayne casu-
ally observed.
“Tar my eye!” croaked Minty as
he placed the burnished spheroid on
the scarred table end. “You’re miss-
in’ it by a mile.”
“Then what does it happen to be?”
inquired the swan-seeker.
“If you was more of a minin’
man,” Minty was saying, “you’d
know it was pitchblende.”
Frayne shrugged and let his wa-
vering glance come to rest on the
pictured bathing beauties tacked
above the wall bunks.
“The eggs I am in search of,”
he finally observed, “are of another
color.”
“But they won’t hatch what this’ll
hatch,” averred Zeke, bent over
the table end.
Frayne, almost reluciantly, let his
gaze return to the black spheroid.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Juj, JlifAut Qluimiteki
Economy Accent . . . Delicious Chicken Croquettes
(See Recipes Below.)
Budget Stretchers
What can I serve as a main course
that won’t take too many dishes?
What can I give
my large family
that isn’t too ex-
pensive? These
are the two que-
ries often asked
by my readers.
The answer to
both questions is
simple—a casse-
role. Easy to
make, easy to serve, economical
too, casseroles solve the main dish
problem almost perfectly.
Almost? Yes, I say almost advis-
edly, because if the family ever be-
comes aware of your ulterior mo-
tives in serving casseroles, their in-
terest in them becomes less, less
and finally non-existent.
Make your casserole so delectable
and so distinctive in flavor and no
one will ever realize that it’s packed
with economy and you have a one-
dish meal that’s perfection plus.
Never overwork the casserole by
trying to use up all the leftovers lin-
ing refrigerator and pantry shelves.
Never swamp the flavors of the food
so you strike a false note and con-
fuse the sense of taste. Use1 good
food and season with discrimination.
Your result will be a real success.
Here are some new ideas I’ve
compiled for you. Most of them of
the food you have used often enough
so they’re old favorites, but in new
dress! You’ll like:
♦Rice and Chicken Casserole.
(Serves 6 to 8)
2 cups rice
2 cups milk
1% tablespoons butter
2 eggs
2Ya cups diced, cooked chicken
Boil rice in salted water until ten-
der. Stir in butter, milk and eggs.
Put a layer of this into a casserole,
then chicken, more rice, etc. Bake
in a moderate (350-degree) oven un-
til well browned.
Every now and then you’ve heard
me talk about food affinities. Here’s
another I’d like to add to the list:
Lamb and Lima Bean Pie.
(Serves 6)
2 pounds lamb neck, shanks
or shoulder
1 pound dry lima beans
Salt, pepper
Celery salt
Soak lima beans overnight. Drain
and place in a heavy kettle. Have
lamb cut in 2-inch
pieces. Add to
beans, season and
cover with water.
Transfer to cas-
serole and top
with pimiento bis-
cuit rings and
bake in a moder-
ately-hot oven 20
to 25 minutes.
To make pimiento biscuit rings:
add % cup coarsely chopped pimi-
ento to baking powder biscuit recipe.
You’ll get your carbohydrates,
proteins along with vitamins and
minerals in this economical, hunger-
satisfying dish good for family din-
ner or informal buffet entertaining:
American Goulash.
(Serves 6)
This Week’s Menu
Tomato Juice Saltines
♦Rice and Chicken Casserole
♦Grapefruit-Cranberry Salad
Popovers Strawberry Jam
Sliced Melon
Beverage
♦Recipe Given.
2 teaspoons salt
14 teaspoon pepper
3 cups tomatoes
1 can tomato soup
Buttered crumbs
Cook macaroni in boiling, salted
water, about 20 minutes, or until ten-
der. Drain. Brown meat and on-
ions in fat. Add macaroni, season-
ings, tomatoes and soup. Pour into
greased baking dish and sprinkle
with buttered crumbs. Bake 30 min-
utes in a moderate (350-degree)
oven.
An economy meat cut that is get-
ting itself talked about plenty be-
cause of its simply wonderful flavor
is this:
Ribs of Beef With Vegetables.
(Serves 6)
314 pounds of short ribs
1 large onion, sliced
2 cups tomatoes
Salt, pepper
6 onions
6 potatoes
3 parsnips
Season short ribs with salt and
pepper. Put in skillet with fat and
brown quickly. Place in an iron
skillet or roasting pan and add on-
ions and tomatoes. Let bake in a
moderate oven for 114 hours, tightly
covered. Add whole carrots which
have been scraped, parsnips, peeled,
and potatoes peeled but left whole.
Cook another hour or until vegeta-
bles are tender. Add boiling water
if necessary during the last hour of
cooking.
Second day service of chicken is
beautifully simplified if you do up
the bird in crusty
cylindrical cro-
quettes, and dish
them up together
with golden car-
rot strips and ei-
ther canned or
frozen asparagus
and you have a one-plate meal tha1
is bound to inspire the family’s ap-
petite:
Chicken Croquettes.
(Makes 10 croquettes)
2 cups cooked, ground chicken
1 cup thick white sauce
2 teaspoons chopped parsley
Flour
1 egg, slightly beaten
1 tablespoon milk
3 cups oven-popped rice cereal
Salt, pepper
Prepare white sauce using % cup
chicken stock and % cup milk.
Add to chicken and parsley and chill
thoroughly. Shape into pyramids or
cylinders. Roll cereal to fine
crumbs. Dip croquettes first in the
flour, then in egg (to which milk has
been added) and in rolled crumbs.
Fry in deep, hot fat (365 degrees)
for 2 to 5 minutes or until golden
brown.
Patterns
SEWING CIRCLE
4Mechanical’ Chess Player
One of the greatest chess play-
ers was Kempelen’s Mechanical
Man, a midget who, disguised as
an automaton, toured Europe dur-
ing the late 18th century and de-
feated all leading players of the
time, says Collier’s. He and his
partner Kempelen were able to
fool the public because he was
very small and legless, played
with mechanical movements and
wore a costume having little doors
that, when opened, revealed only
turning wheels.
If you are ever stumped by the
question of what to send a friend
or relative in one of Uncle Sam’s
armed forces, here’s a tip. If
he smokes a pipe or rolls-his-own,
nothing would please him more
than a pound of his favorite to-
bacco. Surveys among the men
themselves show that. Prince Al-
bert Smoking Tobacco has long
been known as the National Joy
Smoke—it is the largest-selling
smoking tobacco in the world. Lo-
cal dealers are now featuring
Prince Albert in the pound can as
an ideal gift for service men who
smoke a pipe or roll-their-own.—
Adv.
which looks graceful in action and
tidy when at ease! Let her haye
several of these sets to carry her
through the school year.
* * *
Pattern No. 8235 is designed for sizes
6, 8, 10, 12 and 14 years. Size 8 years re-
quires 2V4 yards of 35 or 39-inch materia)
for blouse and skirt.
■ Send your order to:
SEWING CIRCLE PATTERN DEPT.
Room 1116
211 West Wacker Dr. Chicago
Enclose 20 cents in coins for each
pattern desired.
Pattern No............. Size........
Name ...............................
Address .............................
THE NATURAL WAY
Yes, you get pleasure from
eating oranges and drinking
their juice. And you also get
vitamins you need.
Oranges are the best way
to make sure of vitamin C!
Few foods supply much. It’s
easily lost in cooking. Yet
you need an abundance
daily, as you do not store it.
Oranges also have vita-
mins A, Bi and G; calcium,
and other minerals.
Those stamped “Sunkist”
are the finest from 14,500
cooperating growers. Buy
in quantities. They keep!
Copr., 1942, California Fruit Growers Exchange
RED BALL ORANGES
packed by Sunkist growers are a
dependable brand of juicy, rich-
flavored California oranges. Look
for the trademark on skin or wrap.
lllllllt
• In the city, in the suburbs and
on the farm, today, as in years
past, mother is passing on to
daughter, grandmother's baking
day secret.. ."To be sure of re-
sults, use Clabber Girl"... Every
grocer has Clabber Girl.
HULMAN & CO. - TERRE HAUTE, IND.
Founded in 1848
aranteed by -
Good Housekeeping.
CLABBER GIRL
: ' ’Baking Powder ■
V4-pound package macaroni
114 pounds hamburger
1 large onion, chopped
1 tablespoon fat
Lynn Says:
Store Food Wisely: There are
no “Finders Keepers” but you
may be the “Loser Weeper” if
you do not store those vegetables
properly.
Scientific experiments show
that lettuce may lose 40 per cent
of its vitamin C if kept at room
temperature. Refrigerator rec-
ommended!
Spinach, left standing on pan-
try shelf, will be drained of its
vitamin C by about one-third.
Canned string beans lose about
one-third of their vitamin C if
they stand in a bowl at room tem-
perature for six hours.
Short cooking time is recom-
mended, too. Cabbage, for in-
stance, loses 69 per cent of the
elusive vitamin C and 72 per cent
of its calcium and 50 per cent of
its other minerals when these val-
uable nutrients go up in steam.
A crispy, citrus salad goes well
with casserole dishes. Suggestion
of the week which will take top hon-
ors in the hall of fame is this one
made with grapefruit, oranges and
cranberries for color. Its dressing
is unusual in that it combines honey
with mayonnaise, and cranberries.
♦Grapefruit and Cranberry Salad
(Serves 4)
1 large grapefruit
2 large oranges
Lettuce
V4 cup ground, raw cranberries
2 tablespoons honey
V4 cup mayonnaise
Peel and section oranges an<
grapefruit. Arrange alternately oi
lettuce. Mix cranberries with hon
ey. Let stand V2 hour. Combim
with mayonnaise. Serve over salad
What problems or recipes are most
on your mind during these jail days?
Explain your problem to Lynn Cham-
bers and she will give you expert
advice on it. Address your letters,
enclosing a self-addressed stamped en-
velope for your reply, to her as Miss
Lynn Chambers, Western Newspaper
Union, 210 South Desplaines Street,
Chicago, Illinois.
Released by Western Newspaper Union.
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Jones, J. L. Refugio Timely Remarks (Refugio, Tex.), Vol. 14, No. 46, Ed. 1 Thursday, September 10, 1942, newspaper, September 10, 1942; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth848305/m1/3/?q=+date%3A1941-1945: accessed July 16, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Dennis M. O’Connor Public Library.