---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Annie D. Palmer
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 19
number: 9
published: 1916-07
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Annie D. Palmer, "Rumalcowhiskeyhol—A Modern Monster," *Improvement Era* 19, no. 9 (July 1916): 822–828.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1909unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera1909unse
start_page: 822
end_page: 828
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1916-07)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1909unse
  publication_year: 1916
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1916, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Rumalcowhiskeyhol—A Modern Monster

<!-- page:822 -->

;

        Rumalcowhiskeyhol— A Modern Monster

                      BY ANNIE D. PALMER

       Rumalcowhiskeyhol was the fiercest and most powerful of
all   the monsters.With a glance of his evil eye he could cause
strong men to totter and even fall and wallow in the filth of
the streets.  With the heat of his fiery breath he could waste
their substance and reduce to pauperism every soul dependent
thereon.    With the bellowing of his ghoulish voice he could
strike terror into the hearts of brave men insomuch that they
would drop their weapons nor attempt to defend their own.
Nor was this all. Rumalcowhiskeyhol's back and dragon-tail
were covered with shining scales that dazzled men's eyes and ;

if at any time the monster were hard pressed he had but to drop
a scale in the way of his pursuers and immediately they left off
fighting him to search in the mire for the glitter of the scale.
      In every city of the land Rumalcohowhiskeyhol had a lair
and in every village and hamlet a rendezvous. And because men
so loved the glitter of his scales he went boldly forth by day as
well as under cover of the darkness seeking whomsoever he
would devour..
      Daily his victims numbered scores of men, and the substance
he wasted would have built an empire and ever his appetite
                                          ;

/grew and was insatiate. The women of the land became sick
with dread and wise men shook their heads and were appalled
for none could say whose manly sons or fair young daughters
might next be prey to the monster's grip.
      Now the king had many daughters, but an only son, Morrion.
And Morrion was brave of heart and strong of limb, and he
said, "I will fight the monster to his death.     Shall my father's
kingdom be devastated by the power of a single demon while
my father's heir sits idly by and views the ruin?"
      So Morrion chose five hundred men, the noblest from his
father's realm and when they had counseled together many days
                 ;

they set out with their battle axes and spears, determined to
slay the monster or drive him from their border.
      When Rumalcowhiskeyhol saw the strength of the men
who came up against him he knew that neither the glance of his
eye nor the fire of his breath nor the bellowing of his mighty
lungs would stay the onslaught. He needs must turn him about
 as if in flight, and try the lure of the shining scales. With one
hoarse, demon-like yell from his brazen throat he turned, leaving

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RUMALCOWHISKEYHOL—A MODERN MONSTER                        823

where he went a trail of slime and mire in which there glittered
here and there a yellow scale.        Into the sickening' trail they
         —
plunged Morrion, the good, the brave, the princely one, and
all his followers, the noblest five hundred of the land.
      So there was mourning in the land, and in the household of
the king was bitterest grief.      And when the knightly Landon
came as suitor to the princess Isa, she sent him away and would
not be comforted for sorrow for her brother.
     One day while Isa walked in the cypress grove in the far end
of the garden, her brother came to her by stealth. Isa threw up
her hands in fear and would have screamed, but Morrion spoke
quickly and calmed her.
     "Fear not, sister," he said, "for weak and worthless as I
come to you, I am still no spectre."
     "But we have thought you lost," the princess answered, "and
we have mourned for you since the day you and your noble band
went down in the trail of the monster. Come, let us go to our
father the king and to our most queenly mother, that their hearts
may be made glad at your return."
     "Not so, my sister," replied Morrion sadly, "for though they
are not visible to your eyes, the shackles of the monster are upon
me."
       "We will unbind those shackles, Morrion!"
    Then Morrion laughed, and it was like the laugh of a demon.
"Unbind the shackles of Rumalcowhiskeyhol? Never. Wives
whose tears have not been dried since they pledged their faith
on their wedding morning, have tried to unbind them; mothers
whose children cried for bread have sought to unloose them;
and children with pinched faces and wasted forms have tried their
puny strength. The shackles hold in spite of each, in spite of
all combined.
      "But mother's perfect love and father's great wisdom shall
 find a way to free you.  Must the only son of a king remain in
slavery to Rumalcowhiskeyhol ? Come!"
     "Isa, it cannot be!   I have been in his domain too long al-

ready. I despise myself for the weakling that I am; I
                                                             shudder
for the wretchedness   I have caused  I
                                      ; am  horrified at the  misery
 to   which am bound. But his power is upon me—his eye,
              I
                                                                    it

 beckons me to come— his breath, it destroys my will, it
                                                            makes
                 go—             it thunders in my ear, it calls,
                                                                    it
 me  staler as I      his voice,
 commands— oh, sister, I am consumed with a burning sense of
                            I must away!     I must away!
 helplessness, of shame  !

                                                      cling to him and
      "In vain did the sister plead, in vain did she
                                he  flung her  to the ground  and hur-
 weep. With a mighty     effort
 ried from  her as she lay  prostrate.
      When the princess was sufficiently recovered from her sur-
                                         parents with the intelligence
 prise and terror she hastened to her

<!-- page:824 -->

"                         "

824                      IMPROVEMENT ERA
that her brother yet lived.     At first they were joyful beyond
measure at the tidings, but when they heard how he was bound
by the shackles of the monster, they both declared that it had
been better that he had died. "For," said the king, "to live in such
bondage is to surrender his manhood to the beast; it is to bring
misery and disgrace upon himself and all his kindred.          If he
marry, his wife is doomed to a life of humiliation and want, and
suffering; his children will be born heirs to disease, to slavery,
to pauperism.   Passion and crime are ever ready to lay hold on
him who is bound by Rumalcowhiskeyhol.              There is little hope
for his escape."
      The kind mother, who was nothing if not motherly, added
that his little children would probably be victims of harsh           words
and cruel blows instead of love and tenderness.
     Much of what they said seemed vague and dark to Isa. She
had so much to remember of her brother's love and gentleness,
his song and joyous laughter.  "Surely," she said to herself, "he
was under some dreadful spell when he came to me in the cypress
                                                                !"
grove. But that spell must be broken    Morrion must be free
                                            !

     "Yes, Morrion must be free." She said it over and over to
herself   during the week that followed before Landon came
again.    When she saw him, a new hope sprang up in her heart.
Landon did not fear the monster. From earliest childhood he
had gone where he chose and with closed lips and averted eyes
had even passed the open doors of the monster's den in safety.
Nay, so potent had been the teachings of his mother that the
youth listened not to tales of fear, nor turned he to the right or
left to heed the bellowings   of the monster's voice.
    "Gracious princess," Landon said, in courtly manner, "send
me not away. You are sorrowful. Is there no way in which I
may serve you, that I may prove my love and gain your favor?"
      "There is, noble Landon, but the way is hard and
                                                              —
      "I care not though it lead over the burning sands of Sa-
hara's Desert, if so I may serve my princess. Speak."
                                                 !"
     "It is of my brother, Landon. Morrion lives
    "Morrion lives   !Then he is    —
     "Yes, though I blush to say it, he is a slave in Rumalco-
                    !"
whiskeyhol's domain
     "Know you that he lives, my princess?"
     "I have seen him.   He came to me in the cypress grove.
Rescue him from the monster, and on the day you restore him to
us I will become your wife."
     "It is enough. The task may be hard, because men who can
be trusted in such service are scarce but were it an hundred
                                                ;

times more difficult than it is, believe me it should be accom-
plished. Your father will lend his aid ?"

<!-- page:825 -->

"

           RUMALCOWHISKEYHOL-A MODERN MONSTER                               825

            *******
      "In men and means, yes, to the extent of his power "
      "It is enough."

     For thrice twelve months Landon had been training the
mighty forces that he was to lead against Rumalcowhiskeyhol.
First he had drilled the thought into their souls that they were
always to look toward heaven when they came within range of
the evil eye.  Next he had trained them to close their lips and
cover their nostrils against the fiery breath, and with heart and
soul to sing their own glad song of victory to drown the bellow-
ing of the monster's voice.              And against the lure of the shining
scales they had been warned until every one of them knew that
rather than stoop to pick one from the mire, he would suffer his
strong right arm to hang stricken at his side. And so every one
walked with head erect, nor deigned to look where fell the glit-
terings.
     Many times Morrion had come to his sister in the cypress
grove where she daily walked in the hope of seeing him. Each
time he came she saw that his walk was more staggering, that
his form was more wasted, that his eyes were more bleared, than
before.
    Once she told him about the great plans being laid to rescue
him, about the constant training of the forces under Landon.
      "It   is       useless, sister,"   he had   said.   "They drill to go up
against Rumalcowhiskeyhol. Did not I and my five hundred go
bravely out against him? And where are we? Most of us are
perished long ago. Those of us who survive, what are we?"
     "It is because of this, Morrion, that the war must go on.
And we will win. Landon is strong                 —
     "Landon may be strong, sister, but if he goes to battle against
us,  he is lost!"
      "Against us? Are you, then a willing slave?"
      "There can be no slavery, sister, except for him who wills
it so.   The body, indeed, may be kept in bondage, but the spirit
can never be enthralled, so long as it chooses to be free."
      "My brother," Isa pleaded while she wept, "I have set Lan-
don the task to rescue you. When he has done that he is to claim
my hand in marriage. Morrion, I love Landon. Should he
lose  — but he shall not lose. His cause is the cause of right   His    !

banner is the banner of humanity       This fight is a fight against
                                              !

vice, against misery, against pauperism, against death!         Oh,
brother, you will help us, you must!"
       For a moment he hesitated, and the fond sister felt that her
pleadings had won. Then the savage blare of the monster's voice
was heard Morrion broke away from his sister's embrace, and
                 ;

was gone.
    That evening Landon came.

<!-- page:826 -->

"                     "       "

826                              IMPROVEMENT ERA
       "Fear not, my princess," he said, assuringly, when she had
told him all the details of her brother's visit. "We shall surely
win when we are ready to lead our forces against the monster,
and trust me, we shall find a way to save your brother."
     "But, Landon, if my brother will not be saved
                                                                 —
     "He is under the evil spell. If he can be so hedged about
that he fall not in the fray, methinks he will return to his own
gladly when once the terrible influence is removed.    My belief
is that many of those who now consort with evil will join us

gratefully when once the haunts of vice are sealed."
     Thus assured, the princess trusted her cause with the noble
knight and when her brother came again, she only warned him
             ;

that he go not where the fight was thickest in the struggle that
was to come.
     And now they were on the eve of the decisive conflict. The
decree had gone forth from Landon that on the morrow Rum-
alcowhiskeyhol must be done to the death or driven from the
kingdom with his every den forever closed and Rumalcowhiskey-
                                                 ;

hol had snorted forth in derision and scorn his unmistakable
defiance.
       "Noble Landon," the princess said, when he kissed her hand
at parting,  "do you think you will be able to destroy the mon-
ster?"
       "We can scarcely hope that, my princess, since he has so
many strongholds beyond our borders        but we shall give him
                                             ;

such terrible battle that in all our land he shall henceforth find
no resting place."
     "Is everything ready for tomorrow's conflict?"
     "Everything. The uniform of the soldiers is perfect their           ;

banner is inspiring their armor will be proof against every as-
                             ;

sault   and their slogan, 'Death to the monster is joy to the
             —
         ;

home'     no man will waver when he hears the call."
     "And the women's division?"
     "Never was an array more beautiful      Those hundreds of
                                                     !

white-robed women who will march at our right and sing of vic-
tory and peace, will be an inspiration under which no one can
turn his back to the foe. It lacks but one thing to make it per-
fect."
       "And that?"
       "That the Princess Isa be its standard-bearer.                Think not,
my beloved, that I would expose you to danger            —
    "But you once refused to let me join the ranks."
    "Because then I feared. Now I am assured that no harm
can come to that division. Those women will not be influenced
by eye or breath or voice of Rumalcowhiskeyhol, neither will they
stoop for the shining scales. And you may be of service to your
brother.         It is for   him   —

<!-- page:827 -->

RUMALCOWHISKEYHOL— A MODERN MONSTER                      827

     "Enough, Landon.     I   shall go.''
     "Good night, my princess."
     "Good night, Landon."
     The rising of the morning sun was the signal for Landon's
forces to form in line of march.  Long before that the blare of
the enemy had been heard and his fiery breath had been belched
out to defile the morning air. Here and there were squads of
slaves who, like Morrion, had grown to love their slavery. These
made show of much bravado, while they already staggered with
the breath that was upon them.
     At noon the battle raged in all its fury. The monster, hard
pressed by the forces that now crowded upon him, shot glances
from his evil eye the like of which men never had seen before.
He belched forth fiery breath that kindled into flame the very
shrubbery in his pathway. His great red tongue lolled from his
mouth or rolled from side to side as though he would literally lick
men from the earth. He bellowed and blared and snorted at
every breath such sounds as aforetime had stricken his foes with
deadly fear. But Landon's forces, advancing, drove him stead-
ily backward  ; and the women sang their triumphant songs as
they kept pace with the advancing legions.
     At length, finding himself powerless to offer further resist-
ance, the fierce Rumalcowhiskeyhol turned and began to throw
here and there a few of his shining scales. It was useless. The
scales were trampled in the mire by the hosts of Landon.        He
threw more scales and still more until his back and tail were
almost bare.   Finding that these availed him nothing, he bel-
lowed forth his rage, lashed his great tail with all his fury, and
made rapid retreat toward the nearest border.
     The soldiery pushed hard upon him with battleax and spear,
and ever by their side the women marched radiant and joyous.
As they came near to one of the monster's old retreats a host of
slaves poured forth through wide-flung doors.      With sickening
dread the princess looked upon them. A man in rich apparel^ was
supported as he walked by men in rags, and the filthy vomit on
the rich was not less vile than that upon the beggar at his side.
Two women with emaciated forms and disheveled hair clutched
at each other in fury over a string of yellow beads that a bleary-
eyed man had tossed them.       There were ragged urchins and
swaggering youths, and bloated grandsires and following them
                                             ;

some two score men and women of grave demeanor tried to keep
up a show of respectability and order. Such was the following
of Rumalcowhiskeyhol.
     As she was turning away in disgust, the princess saw her
brother stagger from behind a tree. He stood irresolute when he
saw her approach but when she took him by the arm and spoke to
him in tones of sympathy and comfort, he gladly went over to the

<!-- page:828 -->

—

828                       IMPROVEMENT ERA
ranks of Landon.      So, too, did eight of his once brave com-
panions.
     At set of sun they returned to their homes triumphant. Mor-
rion had received many wounds and scars in the haunts of the
monster, some of which he needs must carry to his death. But
he was still young and had yet hope of a vigorous manhood. There
were many others among the rescued whose lives were not seri-
ously wrecked, and some whose only hope of happiness was in
the sleep of death.                 ,

     The king and queen made a great feast to welcome the re-
turn of their son and celebrate the victory of Landon and there  ;

amid the joy and merrymaking of their loyal subjects, they gave
to the noble knight of Landon, to be his happy bride, the beauti-
ful Princess Isa.
     So Isa was happy in her love, Morrion rejoiced in his free-
dom, and all the people of the realm were glad because the terror
of Rumalcowhiskeyhol was ended.

                            The Tell-Tale
                Two men
                Encamped beside a forest grove.
                  Heard in the wind a song.
                It   sang a lay of life well lived;
                     Itsang of life lived wrong.

                To one
                The moaning, mocking wind sang in
                  Accusing monotone
                Of wanton waste of precious time
                     Void   yield of wild oats sown.

                To one
                It sang, the cheery, laughing wind
                  Whilst whistling by in glee,
                Of happy hours of bygone years,
                  Of happy days to be.

                And one
                That night tossed       restlessly,   reviewed
                     With pain his days ill spent.
                And one reviewed his well-lived days.
                  And that night smiled, content.
                So live
                That every breeze will sing to thee
                  Of joy that none may mar.
                Remember this, though joy or woe
                  It sings just what you are.
                                                       Guy C. Coleman
MIDWAY, UTAH
