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This article presents the current state of knowledge of British boarding axes. It examines the two models of boarding axe used by the Royal Navy as well as British made axes privately purchased for...

The contemporary Western Bone Tomahawk is in the tradition of the settler-versus-Indian stories from the genre’s ‘classical’ period. Its story is informed by one of white America’s oldest and most paranoiac of racist-psychosexual myths: the captivity narrative. This article reads Bone Tomahawk’s figuration of the racial anxieties that inhere within nineteenth-century settler-colonial culture in the context of post-9/11 America. It also considers that the film’s imbrication of Horror film conventions into its essential Western framework amplifies its allegorical representation of contemporary America’s cultural and political-ideological mindset. As well, the use of Horror conventions amplifies the racial anxieties generated by its use of a mythic binary construct of an adversarial relationship between whites and ‘Indians.’ To a lesser extent, the article suggests that the film also embodies certain uncontained ideological contradictions that, though undeveloped, could be said to contest its ideological coherence.

Edgar Allan Poe’s literary reputation was founded upon his sarcastic and negative reviews of current books. While Poe’s reviews have been studied for insights into his literary theory and his relation to the culture of periodical publishing, they have rarely been considered as literary works themselves. This essay analyzes the structure and tone of Poe’s earliest “tomahawk”-style reviews in The Southern Literary Messenger and finds that they innovate a new tone of sarcasm, which Poe referred to as “quizzing,” through the adaptation of a primarily textual form of irony. By making fun of prefaces, plots, and grammar, Poe employs a new form of humor that capitalizes on the emergence of print reading as mass culture. Such humor severs letter from spirit not only for the sake of criticism but also to open the practice and pleasure of critical judgment to a popular audience.

This article examines the vibrant cultural milieu inhabited by one of Victorian Britain's most famous cartoonists, Matthew Somerville Morgan. Morgan is well-known as the cartoonist who attacked Queen Victoria's withdrawal from public life (and her associations with John Brown), and the lifestyle of Albert, Prince of Wales, in the short-lived rival to Punch: the Tomahawk. Likewise, his post-1870 career in New York as cartoonist of the ‘Caricature War’ over the 1872 Presidential elections, and involvement with ‘Buffalo’ Bill Cody have been well-studied. However, his involvement with the world of the 1860s Victorian stage – and the social circles in which he moved – have not been given close attention. This broader social, cultural, and economic context is essential to understanding Morgan's role as a cartoonist-critic of politics, class, gender and art in Victorian Britain. Special attention is given to the ways in which Morgan's work as a theatrical scene-painter informed his other pursuits, including his ...

One of the contemporary arguments made in support of fielding revolutionary military technologies is that technological dominance not only decides the outcome of major wars, but enhances a nation's coercive power in dealing with low-end threats. Currently, a new generation of technophiles claims that unmanned and robotic systems are revolutionizing warfare, increasing the ability of advanced states to coerce states and societies that lag behind. Yet historically, technological dominance at the tactical level has a mixed record when projected into the diplomatic realm. The article analyzes the effectiveness of low-risk, over the horizon coercion from an historical viewpoint, assessing the effectiveness of gunboat diplomacy, air policing, and the ‘Tomahawk diplomacy’ of the 1990s. The author claims that the historical record indicates that gunboat diplomacy, air policing, and over the horizon coercion is more problematic than commonly portrayed, with the boundaries between coercive diplomacy and sa...

In the fall of 1999, as the Atlanta Braves were facing the New York Mets for the National League Pennant, I wrote an editorial for the Atlanta Constitution denouncing the Atlanta fan tradition of mimicking, with gesture and voice, a Native American war cry (or at least the Hollywood version thereof) (21). The experience proved to be an exhilarating introduction to the South, where I had arrived only months before. A right-wing radio personality spent much of the day calling me a “candy ass liberal.” Two days later in the newspaper’s letters section I was hailed as a pencil-necked-geek and told to get a job that didn’t require deep thinking. Whatever expectation I had that a reasonable argument would win over enough fans to put an end to the “tomahawk chop” proved to be greatly misguided. While its prominence has faded somewhat, no accompanying wave of moral regret has swept the city. And judging from the persistence of such offensive team names as Redskins and such dubious logos as that of the Cleveland Indian’s Chief Wahoo (who bears a striking resemblance to Little Black Sambo), one can hardly point to any change of zeitgeist on this issue. 1 If the experience of my editorial has made me somewhat less sanguine about the power of a good argument to change social practices, I nonetheless remain convinced that the alternative (silence) will forever be an even less attractive option. 2 What follows, then, is a more full account of why North American team names are ethically problematic. More than just offering an ethical argument, however, I wish also to examine a political issue: when faced with an offensive cultural practice, what are the options and obligations of the liberal democratic state? I take up the ethical issue in the following three sections, and in the final section reflect upon this political issue. Before beginning, two quick clarifications are in order. First, my concern here is philosophical, not legal. The current legal standing of Native team names has been discussed elsewhere (e.g., 3; 14; 22), and I make no attempt to add to what has been said there. Second, the issue under examination is the general appropriation of Native American identity, be it in the form of names, symbols or cultural practices. I think there are differences between a team name, a team logo and a mascot doing a war dance at halftime, and that these differences render some such

Since the colonial era, the tomahawk has served as a symbol of Indian savagery in American arts and literature. The pipe tomahawk, however, tells a different story. From its backcountry origins as a trade good to its customization as a diplomatic device, this object facilitated European-Indian exchange, giving tangible form to spoken metaphors for war, peace, and alliance. The production, distribution, and use of the pipe tomahawk also illustrated contrasting Indian and European notions of value and utility in material objects, exposing the limits of such goods in promoting cross-cultural mediation and understanding.

Figure 1 shows the reverse of the 5-cents Jefferson nickel minted in 2004 to commemorate the bicentenary of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803e2003. The design demonstrates clasped hands as the symbols of peace and friendship, a crossed peace pipe and tomahawk, and inscriptions. The left hand, with a military uniform cuff on the wrist, is a symbol of the government. The right hand, with a silver cuff adorned with beads and an emblem of the American eagle, is a

When the First Taranaki War ended in 1861, a young settler and engineer called George Robinson celebrated the apparent end of interracial hostilities by venturing out with his fellow volunteers to rediscover a peach orchard that war had made inaccessible. Appetites satisfied, he and his friends were exploring further into the lately contested territory, when they met a 'lad' they knew from one of the resistant Maori settlements. The boy invited them home to where his people were now living: after some hesitation, they accompanied him. On the way they came across a fortification (pa), which Robinson investigated with an attentive engineer's eye. Sixty years later he wrote a detailed description of the pa for James Cowan, then collecting material for his official history of the New Zealand Wars. But Robinson's story did not stop there. It continued on to the soldier-settlers' arrival at the first of the settlements, Paraiti: The Maoris were startled at our appearance, not knowing our numbers or how we came there, but our guide calling out the explanation, they rushed forward to welcome us in the good old Maori way, shouting, laughing, crying, all but embracing us. We stayed with them about half an hour, and then moved on and up the hill to a plateau, where we found the Ninia natives. A messenger having warned them of our approach, we received from them the same riotous welcome. After staying awhile we moved on to the Kaipakopako settlement, accompanied by a bodyguard of excitable chatty friends, and were again cordially welcomed by hundreds of our old friends and recent foes, who anxiously inquired as to who were killed or wounded amongst those they knew at Bell Block, and told us of their own fatalities. They showed no sign of rancour or ill feeling. I was talking to a chief when suddenly he opened the blanket he had around him and showed me his right arm: it had been shot through the elbow, the bone broken, and, being badly set, the arm had withered and was useless. He told me he was shot at Puketa- kauere, and on my saying I was present at that engagement he explained how he received his wound ... [While searching for wounded after the battle] he saw a sergeant lying wounded ... shooting all who came near. The chief bounded forward to tomahawk him, but received a bullet through his arm, and shouted for help. A number of Maoris came, and, first disabling the sergeant with gun-fire, they tomahawked him. The chief said the sergeant shot seven of the Maori who attacked him before he was killed. As we had about eight miles to travel by the nearest route to get back to the Bell Block post, and as the sun was nearing the horizon, we had to say good-bye to our friends and hurry back, so as to get through the bush before dark. We reached the blockhouse before 9 p.m. in time to answer to our names at roll-call.

Computer technology has revolutionised weapons system and hardware during the last decade 'miracle chip' has had impact in all areas of battlefield. The recent Gulf War has amply demonstrated the important role of computer technology in warfare. The best of the high technology was used during the 45 days of air battle followed by 100 hours of ground offensive. Computer and communication formed the heart of every weapon system from Tomahawk, SLAM, Scud, Patriot missile to night vision of tanks and Stealth fighters. This paper discuss the salient features of computer technology used by the US for this truly hi-tech war. the hi-tech weapon systems using computers for achieving surgical precision have been highlighted. The Indian scenario and the important lessons learnt by the use of high technology, primarily based on computers for future wars, have been presented for their applicability in the Indian context.

The legend of Hannah Dustan, who scalped her native American captors after they attacked her home and killed members of her family, provides one of the earliest accounts of infanticide in the New World: "On March 15, 1697," Cotton Mather writes, the Salvages made a Descent upon the Skirts of Haverhill____The Nurse trying to Escape, with the New-born Infant, fell into the Hands of the Formidable Salvages; and those furious Tawnies coming into the house, bid poor Dustan rise ... ; but e'er she had gone many Steps, they dash'd out the Brains of the Infant, against a Tree. (Mather, 264) Reports of colonists' children killed by native Americans recur in both autobiographical captivity narratives and their fictional descendants. In The History of Maria Kittle, for example, two mothers lose their infants to "Salvages" while their husbands are away from the settlement: "An Indian, hideously painted," writes Bleecker, "strode up to Cornelia ... and cleft her white forehead deeply with his tomahawk ... [H]e deformed her lovely body with deep gashes; and tearing her unborn babe away, dashed it to pieces against the stone wall" (Bleecker, 19-20). This account of violence to mother and child is followed by another baby-killing only a few pages later: "She resigned him to the merciless hands of the savage, who instantly dashed his little forehead against the stones" (Bleecker, 21). This scenario is repeated in the novel Hope Leslie: "The Indian .. . now sprang forward and tore the infant from its mother's breast... tossed him wildly around his head, and dashed him on the doorstone" (Sedgwick, 65).

When the Florida State University (FSU) football team rushes onto the playing field of Doak S. Campbell Stadium, it follows an athletic mascot wearing colored turkey feathers, riding a spotted pony, and carrying a flaming spear that he plants on the fifty-yard line with a war-whoop. While this activity unfolds on the field, over eighty thousand FSU fans chant a pseudo-Indian melody while swinging their arms together in a tomahawk chop. The FSU spectacle is a common one; resolute FSU fans recognize it as authentically Seminole, as authoritatively American Indian. For many American Indians these sorts of activities are understood as offensive, as deeply fatal to the well-being of Indigenous nations, communities, extended families, and young people. Most Native professionals and our allies comprehend them as yet another disturbing appropriation in a long and ongoing history of colonization that includes forced removals and fraudulent land transfers away from Indigenous Peoples.3

With the ubiquitous presence of computing, the impact of computer-control on a user's sense of autonomy and moral responsibility and the responsibilities of designers when building such systems, especially those that directly impact human life, have become topics of considerable ethical interest. This work examines the ethical and social issues surrounding the design of human-computer interfaces that are designed for weapon control systems using the development of a computer interface for the U.S. Navy's Tactical Tomahawk missile as a case study. Faced with the task of designing an interface for a weapon like the Tactical Tomahawk that can be retargeted in flight with the click of a mouse, the designing engineer must understand the social and ethical implications of both critical design elements as well as decision biases that are introduced through both cognitive and social sources. It is possible that designing "user-friendly" interfaces for the sole purpose of destruction and death can afford a moral buffer that diminishes controllers' sense of responsibility and autonomy, which could allow people to make decisions more quickly and without proper consideration of all the consequences. When designing a human-computer interface for a weapon control system, it is imperative that engineers understand not only what physical and cognitive human limitations exist, but also how human behavior can compromise both the system's mission and a sense of moral responsibility.

Since the success of Tomahawk cruise missiles the Navy continues to pursue advanced weapons systems to project force ashore from the maritime environment. In what may be referred to as the Land Attack era for the Surface Navy, increasing emphasis is placed on the tactical responsiveness of future Land Attack weapons systems. While from a systems standpoint this may be acceptable, doctrine must be prepared that also compliments the inevitable operational use of these tactically responsive weapons. Without proper consideration of details that connect both levels of maritime power projection, tactical exploitation of future Land Attack weapons stands to undermine operational flexibility. There is a command and control architecture in place that has due regard for today's emphasis on innovative changes which, through years of evolution, also has an appreciation for relationships between operational and tactical command and control. The Navy has the opportunity now to reap the benefits of that evolution without stalling innovation. The command and control doctrine inherent to Tomahawk strike coordination is a firm basis on which to build doctrine for future Land Attack operational success as well as tactical responsiveness.

The modern term, creeping into the American lexicon, "Tomahawk Diplomacy" has come to represent a form of limited military response where the National Command Authority (NCA) employs cruise missiles and other high technology weapons as a means of enforcing American foreign policy and protecting U.S. security. Although this form of response normally includes an array of precision weapons and delivery systems, cruise missiles have become a most visible and highly publicized form of limited military response. The NCA relies heavily on cruise missiles as a strategic asset. So predominant are these weapons that cruise missiles are specifically mentioned in both the National Security Strategy and National Military Strategy as an integral part of nearly every military response contingency. The U.S. is employing these weapons with increasing regularity and is expected to continue to rely on this form of response in the future. This monograph explores the implications of employing cruise missiles as a means of limited military response in the pursuit of U.S. national security objectives or imposition of U.S. foreign policy. This monograph uses the three most recent U.S. use of cruise missiles as case studies and analyzes them against a defined set of criteria in order to identify the strategic implications of their use. This research uses the instruments of national power as criteria to develop a framework for analysis. Publications from various academic and media sources form the body of knowledge necessary to develop a coherent balance of arguments for and against the use of cruise missile diplomacy. The intent of this monograph is to determine if the use of cruise missiles is restricting limited military response options to operational planners, and provides a framework for identifying and understanding strategic implications.

An occasional column, in which Caveman and other troglodytes involved in cell science emerge to share their views on various aspects of life-science research. Messages for Caveman and other contributors can be left at caveman@biologists.com. Any correspondence may be published in forthcoming issues. Previous Sticky Wickets can be viewed at: www.biologists.com/JCS/caveman/index.html Back when Michael Jordan ruled the world of basketball, and everything else, a TV advertisement showed him effortlessly whirling around other players, gliding through the air and dunking the basketball. He then sat down and started guzzling an artificially colored saline solution. He was surrounded by young boys who looked up at him with rapture. Then, each of the boys promptly started to guzzle the same drink and cheerfully chanted in a mantra-style, ‘I wanna be like Mike! I wanna be like Mike!’ Society loves the cult hero, someone who is, or is packaged to appear, more intelligent, faster, taller, more beautiful and exciting, and funnier than you. Here is someone to look up to from your miserable, lowly rung on society's ladder - someone whose talents you can try to emulate, even if it is only in the soft drink that you buy. What better way to get through another grinding day at work than the knowledge that you are at least guzzling the same drink as Michael Jordan! And so it is in science. Young scientists today define science in terms of personalities, cult heroes and controversy between laboratories. In a discussion group for a class that I teach, students and faculty leaders critique papers that parallel the more didactic parts of the class. The discussion of each paper is started with a brief (historical) background and overview of the biological problem by one of the students. I noticed that the students presented the background by date and personality (as encouraged by one faculty leader!), and often highlighted personality conflicts: ‘In 1987, Phlemspengler showed that pigs could become airborne for short distances if they first leapt out of a first-floor window. Then, in 1988, Phlemspengler's rival, Snotely, reported that Phlemspengler's work was flawed because he had in fact tossed the pigs out of the window. Nevertheless, Snotely was intrigued with the possibility that pigs might fly. In 1989, she found that excess rolls of fat underneath the forelimbs of pigs could produce lift if splints were used to extend the forelimbs laterally from the body, and the pigs were then tossed out of a first-floor window. The big breakthrough came in 1992, when Phlemspengler's former graduate student Arsenmuth engineered a transgenic pig that had an enlarged sternum, a project that he was not allowed to work on as Phlemspengler's student. Arsenmuth showed that extensive exercise and pectoral muscle development, together with the forelimb fat rolls, provided sufficient strength and lift to enable the pigs to fly for short distances. At a recent meeting, Phlemspengler noted that Arsenmuth still had to toss the pigs from a first floor window in order to get them airborne and, therefore, he, Phlemspengler, was still the first discoverer of pig flight.’ It would be considerably more scholarly to summarize the evolution of ideas (one came from the other), to which each person contributed, and leave out names and anecdotal personality conflicts. ‘The evolution of pig flight came about through a series of body adaptations, starting with the use of splints to support the forearms and surrounding adipose tissue, and then the development of the sternum and pectoral muscles. However, it remains to be shown whether these pigs can sustain powered flight or simply glide after an assisted launch.’ Who said that the recitation of science should be exciting or presented in the format of an exclusive for the News of the World, National Enquirer or Das Bild? Unfortunately, the science cult figure looms large, and in some cases very large. Students want to grow up to be like. pick a star of genetics, cell or developmental biology - someone famous at a prize university, who gets the rock-star billing at meetings and has the greased pipeline into the top journals. And why not? Isn't this the way to get to the top (the top in terms of visibility, not necessarily scientific contribution), to emulate the success of someone else, to mould yourself to their pedigree and personality? Do not succumb to this form of societal inbreeding! It is not that Mike (or Gary, or Fiona) is not worth looking up to. However, it is better to be yourself and to develop your own set of principles, your own way of thinking and performing experiments, your own writing and presentation styles. Face it: in the end, you will never have the ability to perform the experimental equivalent of a gravity-defying, 360(o) spin tomahawk dunk, and you will definitely not look good in vest and shorts!

Many scholars of American Indian history watched with trepidation as 1992 approached. Although the five hundredth anniversary of Christopher Columbus's landfall was sure to put their cherished subject fairly in the limelight for once, they had good reason to apprehend that serious scholarship might be buried in an avalanche of T-shirts and bumper stickers. At the very least, solid research was likely to be pushed aside by books and films chumed out to catch the wave of popular interest. Certainly, the Columbian Quincentenary had its share of hoopla and drivel, but it could have been far worse, and there was much that was good. During the Columbian Quadricentenary of 1892, the United States celebrated four hundred years of "progress," excluded Indians from the ceremonies except as relics of the past, and looked forward to a future without Indians. In 1992, native people and native protests were prominent and persistent, reminding us that they were here long before Columbus, are still here, and intend to be here for the next five hundred years. No longer the unqualified hero of American mythology, Christopher Columbus, in some people's minds, came to personify the evils of Westem civilization. He was blamed for everything from the slave trade to the current ecological crisis. Where one stood on Christoforo Colombo was taken as a measure of one's scholarship, one's political correctness, even one's humanity. But as the strident voices and the furor over tomahawk chops subside, one can hope for results of lasting benefit as the nation confronts some of the hard questions the dissident voices raised. If 1992 was not for most people an occasion for mourning and national flagellation, neither was it a time of unrestrained jubilation. When even the popular media recognizes that American history did not by a long shot begin with Columbus, we are surely better placed to discard some old mythologies, rethink American history as a story of

The article examines militarization in contemporary Japan, as most saliently mamfest in increases in military spending and the buildup of military might, by focusing on the erosion of anti-militaristic principles. This includes the broader interpretation of Article 9 of the Constitution, which now permits certain 'offensive weaponry' and 'collective defense' type arrangements; the weakening of the 'three non-nuclear principles', which are not effective against port calls by US vessels laden with Tomahawk missiles and other nuclear-capable weapons; the relaxation of the ban on the export of defense-related technology, which from 1983 onwards makes an exception of exports to the United States; and the scrapping of the '1% ceiling' on military expenditures in the 1987 budget, which put an end to an important barrier to increases in military spending. The erosion of these principles has been facilitated by external factors — American pressure, the Soviet military buildup in the region, and the decline in Asian criticism of Japan's military presence — as well as by internal factors — a greater acceptance of the Self Defense Forces and the US-Japan Security Treaty on the part of the opposition parties as well as the public.

The enormity of the task of reactivating a forty year old battleship, the USS New Jersey, for the fourth time, outfitting her with new technology surface warfare and strike capabilities, improved self defense weapons and modernized communications installations at minimal cost during a fifteen month industrial period is described in this paper. Challenges involved included the Tomahawk weapons system design modifications necessary to enhance the capabilities of the not yet operational eight missile Spruance class destroyer baseline configuration to a thirty-two missile battleship suite. Incorporation of the Tomahawk system brings to this venerable dreadnought the capability of operating offensively with battle forces in the highest threat areas and conducting offensive operations against surface ships and targets ashore, using Tomahawk land attack and antiship missiles (ASM). The revitalized New Jersey also provides self-defense against ASM and attacking aircraft at short range. The design of her combat system remains in consonance with the original attributes of the ship's design—sur-vivable, dependable, and redundant. This paper examines the adaptation of the Tomahawk weapons system for installation in New Jersey. The design modifications have been particularly critical, since the baseline system is currently under development in USS Merrill. Urgent Navy requirements dictated that the battleship-Tomahawk effort overtake and lead the baseline development in Merrill. Emphasis in this paper is placed upon the discussion of planning, implementation, problems encountered, and the advanced capabilities surrounding New Jersey as a result of installing the Tomahawk Weapons System. Finally, the paper concludes with a discussion of the potential operational utilization of New Jersey in the strike warfare role that was lost to the surface Navy in World War II, when aircraft carriers supplanted battleships as the Navy's main striking arm.

On 10 October, 1981, some 300 000 people demonstrated in Bonn against the NATO double-track decision of December 1979 to deploy 572 new American medium-range nuclear missiles in Western Europe (108 Pershing II ballistic missiles as well as 96 Tomahawk cruise missiles in the Federal Republic of Germany, 160 cruise missiles in Great Britain, 112 in Italy, 48 in the Netherlands and 48 in Belgium), if the negotiations on the limitation of medium-range systems would not succeed.

The case for the Dual Track Decision (DTD) was advanced by NATO for reasons of high policy and of principle. It embodied a notion of collective action by the Atlantic Alliance in the name of European security. Its provisions were two-fold: The deployment in Western Europe of 108 US Pershing II intermediate range ballistic missiles (IRBM) and 464 Tomahawk ground launched Cruise missiles (GLCM) in response to Soviet deployment of SS-20 IRBMs targeted at Western Europe, while simultaneously engaging in negotiation for reduction or elimination of these sytems. At the end of 1983 negotiations with the Soviet Union were broken off and full deployment of US systems were gradually implemented. This situation then led to heightened East—West tensions until early in 1985 when both super-powers agreed to negotiate arms control agreements with respect to strategic and intermediate missiles.

The scene boils with action: Indians are attacking the wagon train. A courageous man stands on the platform of his covered wagon, shooting around a board hastily placed there for protection. Wounded, a warrior falls off his white stallion, while another brave surges past him, tomahawk raised. Yet another Indian draws back his bow. In the foreground, a bearded white man astride one of the rearing horses of the team pulling the wagon fires point blank at a fourth Indian with upraised tomahawk. Yet another brave is shot from behind just as he prepares to strike a blow with his warclub. Up from the rear of the wagon run a band of rescuers: a white man, a young boy, and several others bent on saving the beleaguered party. In the wagon, a young man falls back, blood gushing from a wound over his heart. Cradling him in her arms, a young woman with long blonde hair attempts to stanch the blood. Behind her, an older woman with dark hair turns away, shielding a baby. Fear on her face, she stares over her shoulder at the distant viewer, as if pleading for help. The painting, Attack on an Emigrant Train by Charles Wimer, tells everything one needs to know about the history of the American West as seen through the eyes of cowboy artists: he fights, she cringes. The purpose of this paper is not to retell that already familiar story but to show how paintings helped mold-and continue to reinforce-the myth of the West as his land.1 Western art, or "cowboy art" as its artists and patrons prefer to call it, is narrative and representational. It tells a story based on the frontier myth and set against a natural backdrop. Further, it uses realistic detail and specific artistic techniques to convey traditional values about the role of men and women in the West. That the paintings tell stories that are false and stereotyped is in fact the point, for cowboy artists do not paint the real West. They paint instead the romantic West; the West of myth and legend; the West the way the culture wants it to have been. The function of cowboy art, therefore, has been to paint stories that freeze the frontier myth in the cultural subconscious. Until very recent years, as we shall see, these stories have been different for men and women. Although there were a few exceptional heroines such as Mountain Kate, who is shown fighting a bear on the cover of one of Beadle's Dime Novels, the images and stories about frontier women have almost always emphasized their gentility and passivity. Painting after painting has featured a woman in a wagon, babe in arms, being led across the plains. Metaphorically carrying American civilization westward as she literally cradles the next generation, the pioneer woman has little opportunity to act as an individual in her own right. Men, on the other hand, lead very exciting lives, for their encounter with the frontier frees them from domestic life and liberates them from the constraints of society. Cowboy art for men is the tale of action and adventure, danger and violence. Paintings such as Charles Russell's The Jerk Line, Wimar's Attack on an Emigrant Train, and Frederic Remington's Stampeded by Lightning are so charged with energy that they almost jump from the canvas. Even paintings that do not depict action scenes have an intense, barely suppressed potential for explosion.

Dr. Carl Robert Eklund, posthumous Fellow of the Arctic Institute of North America, prominent in arctic and antarctic research, Chief of the Polar and Arctic Branch of the U.S. Army Research Office, died on November 3, 1962 at the age of 53. His gregarious friendly nature, good humour and knack of story-telling made him a cherished friend of all who knew him. For 23 years he was a leading American specialist in ornithology and geographic research in both the north and south polar regions. His U.S. Government service in the Department of the Interior and the Department of the Army was approaching 29 years. Carl was born in Tomahawk, Wisconsin on January 27, 1909. ... With solid training and experience he answered the lure of the polar regions. From 1939-41 he served as ornithologist at the East Base of the U.S. Antarctic Service. This was the first modern U.S. Government-sponsored expedition to Antarctica, and the third of Rear Admiral Richard E. Bird's Antarctic commands. In addition to his collection of animal life for the Department of the Interior, Fish and Wildlife Service, Carl made one of the longest antarctic dog sled journeys accompanying Finn Ronne in a landward encirclement of Alexander I Island from the Palmer Peninsula Station on Stonington Island. Islands sighted near the turning point of this journey were named the Eklund Islands in his honour by the Board of Geographical Names. From 1941 to 43 he returned to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service as research biologist in charge of game conservation and education on Indian reservations at Minneapolis, Minnesota. During World War II he served as commissioned officer, advancing to Major in the U.S. Army Air Force. He served in the Arctic Section of the Arctic Desert Tropic Information Center. ... The call of the polar regions drew him south again. His skill and experience were needed by the IGY organizers of the National Academy of Sciences. He was appointed as the first Scientific Station Leader of the Wilkes Station, Antarctica. His field leadership was outstanding, and he vigorously pursued his own program of biological and ornithological research. His bird banding program became international in scope around the entire continent. His field studies provided a basis for his doctoral thesis on the south-polar skua. He received his Ph.D. in zoology and geography from the University of Maryland in 1959. To maintain an intimate pursuit of polar research he accepted in 1958 the position of Chief of the Polar and Arctic Branch, Environmental Research Division of the U.S. Army Research Office, Washington, D.C. In this capacity he directed an extensive inter-disciplinary research program in the Arctic, necessitating frequent visits to Greenland and Alaska. Meanwhile, he served on the National Academy of Sciences Committee on Polar Research advising on research for Antarctica. His national and international reputation grew rapidly and his service as a lecturer and consultant on polar matters were in constant demand. His selection as the first president of the Antarctican Society of Washington, D.C. was a natural one. Dr. Eklund's publications during the last 20 years, mostly on zoological and ornithological topics, number close to 30. His first book, co-authored with Joan Beckman, "Antarctica, Land of Science", was in draft form at the time of his death. ... In spite of average build, his warm human kindliness, his mischievous humorous blue eyes, broad smile, short-cropped hair, and ready wit interspersed with clearly thought out serious observations made him a colourful figure in the polar world at its critical transition from the days of hard-fought polar discoveries to the modern research area.

The inhabitants of the American States have long been noted for their hurrying and bustling habits, for their ceaseless, restless activities, and for their all but immodest disposition when setting themselves about to accomplish a purpose, not to intrust the fact to the keeping of a silent herald. So marked have these characteristics become and so influential have they been in modifying the development of their personality that Europeans, surrounded by other amenities and pleasures, have fancied that the average American citizen is still but a son of the forest, that the noises incident to his movements are only the rustling of his feathery head-gear, that the implements of his trade are the disguises of the tomahawk, and that the acclamations expressed upon the success he attains are not unlike the war-whoop of his aboriginal predecessors. After eliminating from our field of vision all the extravagances of imagination indulged in

On July 3, 1960, a 300th anniversary celebration was held at the St. Francis Wabanaki village of Odanak. One of the features was a pageant showing the Indians coming to this site, an island in the St. Francis River lying between the villages of Perreville and St. Francis in Quebec Province, after they were driven from Maine and New Hampshire during the French and Indian War. A program of tribal dances followed the pageant. At the rehearsal on July 2, the dance leaders seemed pleased to find the author interested in their program and willingly answered questions. The following facts were quickly ascertained: all Indian dances were forbidden at St. Francis by a local priest about 1925; no dances form any part of St. Francis ritual at present; St. Francis Indians have almost no contact with other Wabanaki tribes--neither of the leaders had attended dance ceremonies or programs at other Wabanaki reserves; one of the leaders had been taken to a program of Western Indian dances by A. I. Hallowell a number of years ago and the other had seen Iroquois dances. This information would lead one to conclude that the dances at Odanak would be a poor representation of what St. Francis ritual once was. However, the rehearsal produced a large repertoire: Snake Dance, Eagle Dance, Blanket Dance, Friendly Dance, War Dance, Tomahawk Dance and Calumet Dance. Dances similar to most of these are known to the Penobscot, Passamaquoddy and Malecite, the other members of the Wabanaki group. After the rehearsal the dance leaders listened to recordings made previously by the author of dance music by the other three Wabanaki tribes. Although the St. Francis dance leaders had not sung songs to their dances, they were able to understand the recordings and felt that their own dances should have had these songs also. But no one felt that his voice was good enough to sing the songs at the celebration. The music at the program consisted of drumming and impromptu yelling. The Snake Dance is an old dance originally used at the beginning of any ceremony which included dancing. When the festivities were ready to begin a dance leader would start out twisting and turning between the wigwams. Soon many merry-makers would join the serpentine line which would terminate at the dance place where the ceremony was to take place. William Mechling describes this dance (1958:151). Frank G. Speck recorded Jack Solaman, a Malecite, singing the Snake Dance song at the Tobique Point Reserve about 1913. Speck also describes the use of the Snake Dance by the Penobscot (1940:283-284). Dr. Walter J. Fewkes describes the use of the Snake Dance by the Passamaquoddy (1890:262-269). In all instances the dance is very similar and the Odanak performance was essentially the same as the description above. The Friendly Dance is called a Greeting Dance by the other Wabanaki tribes and is performed when visitors arrive. It resembles the Virginia Reel in that it begins with a line of men facing a line of women, and in other ways, as the following description by one of the dance leaders at Odanak shows