The grave of the patriarch Moses has never been discovered, and the scriptures declare that its whereabouts are totally unknown. But archaeologists insist on no less authority than this, and if there is any vestige of hope that the lost may be found, their policy is to persevere in their search. This attitude brought about the recent discoveries in Egypt. But, as the credulous will point out, this discovery was bought at the price of Lord Carnarvon's death, and the curse of ancient Egypt still exists to deter any future explorers.
The present age, however, is not apt to recognize the validity of curses. Mr. Edward P. Gaston of Chicago, at any rate, doesn't care what the religious have to say. He intends to dig up the skeleton of Pocahontas, the tender-hearted Indian girl, of whom he claims to be a direct descendant. He has already gone so far as to disinter more than a hundred skeletons, and to measure their skulls in the hope of being able to recognize his Indian ancestress. Of these skulls he has selected three or four for future reference, while Canon E. Lionel Gedge has reburied the remaining bones with due solemnities, and the wardens of the Church have called down evil upon Mr. Gaston's head and prophesied for him a death similar to that of the late Lord Carnarvon.
But it is hard to see what good will result if the skull of Pocahontas is dug up from a quiet resting place at Gravesend. The site of Troy may well reveal historical secrets. Luxor may give up relies, and the buried city of Herculaneum may contain valuable manuscripts yet undiscovered. There is still plenty of chance for further archacologizing. But why should a man wish to dig up his supposed ancestors! If it be merely to test the efficacy of the curse to fall on the desecrator of her grave, he might well wait until Sir Conan Doyle has definitely proved the existence of real spooks and "genil loci".