The Israelis have strict rules forbidding amateur archaeologists from poking around the digs and carting off whatever strikes their fancy. But who's to say no when the amateur happens to be Defense Minister Moshe Dayan, 52, hero of all Israel and avid collector of artifacts for his private backyard museum. So there he was again last week, burrowing into an ancient tomb at Azor, near Tel Aviv, and this dig almost ended in tragedy. Dayan was six feet down in a pit when the soft clay walls suddenly gave way, burying the general under their weight. Bystanders dug him out within a minute, rushed him to a hospital, where he was found to be suffering from two broken ribs, a fractured vertebra and possibly a damaged aorta. At week's end, though, doctors reported him out of danger and growling, "When do I get out of here?"

Men's plumages are changing so fast that the lads hardly have time to preen their feathers any more. Now it's the Gaucho look--or at least it is for Rudolf Nureyev, 30. Not that Rudi is all that wild about horses. It's just that he has this gas about things South American; so naturally that led to an Yves St. Laurent Argentine pony-skin jacket to set off a dashing pair of matching boots by Paris' Roger Vivier. Gaucho Rudi wears the getup whenever the mood strikes him, as with Dame Margot Fonteyn and Princess Margaret at a Knightsbridge mansion, where the Princess helped kick off a fund-raising campaign to provide new facilities for the Royal Academy of Dancing.

In a way it was typical that when Charles Lindbergh made his first public appearance in a decade, he chose one of the nation's farthest reaches. Lindy, now 66, was in Juneau to address the Alaska legislature on a topic touching him deeply: the need to conserve the state's wildlife. The Lone Eagle argued that Alaska should do away with bounties on wolves, coyotes and seals, and make it illegal for hunters to shoot from airplanes or trucks. "Alaska is one of the key areas of the world," said he. "But with extreme changes taking place, the people are in danger of losing the environment they inherited from all times past." The lawmakers gave him a standing ovation, and Lindy responded with a wave and a grin that, for a moment, bridged 41 years.

For seven years the royal palace in Oslo had been without a woman--ever since King Olav V's youngest daughter, Astrid, married a commoner. But now the King and Crown Prince Harold, 31, will no longer live in lonely masculine splendor. The King has consented to Harald's marriage to Sonja Har-aldsen, 30, the striking blonde daughter of an Oslo clothing-store manager whom Harald courted for ten years. Royalists were soon aflutter over the fact that Sonja, a commoner, will receive queenly rights when Harald ascends the throne. That issue hardly concerned the Prince. "For me," said he, "Sonja will just be my wife."

Still as lean and trim as a ship of the line, Britain's Admiral of the Fleet Earl Mountbatten, of Burma, 67, sailed into Manhattan to fire off a salute to such old friends as Darryl F. Zanuck, Spyros P. Skouras and Douglas Fairbanks Jr. at the Americana Hotel. The earl first fell in with moviefolk back in the 1930s, when they donated movies to entertain the crews on Royal Navy warships, so it was only natural to return the favor by helping out at a fund-raising drive for show business's Variety Clubs International charities. Queen Victoria's great-grandson found Manhattan's haute cuisine smashing good, and said the same for the city's low life, capping a party-filled stay with a visit to Greenwich Village's Electric Circus.

One glance at the two girls with their dribbly double butterscotch icecream cones, and the San Francisco cable-car conductor decided that such delights were not for him. "Ladies," said he sternly, "you've got to get off if you don't throw away your ice-cream cones." Since Frisco's conductors are nothing if not captains of their cars, a chastened Lynda Bird Robb, Husband Chuck and their official San Francisco hostess meekly stepped off the Russian Hill clang-along to hoof it a while on their sightseeing trip.

All was clinking glasses and pleasant buzz at the French embassy party in Vientiane, Laos. That is, until U.S. Ambassador William H. Sullivan, 45, strolled up to a group of American pacifists, who had stopped long enough to wet their whistles before flying on to Hanoi. At the sight of Sullivan, U.C.L.A. Professor Franz Schurmann, 41, reelingly announced: "I'm a subversive." "I hope you enjoy your adolescent behavior," snapped the ambassador. "Say 'adolescent' again and I'll fight you!" roared Schurmann and put up his fists. It got no further, of course, as embassy aides and Novelist Mary McCarthy, a member of Schumann's group, stepped between the two men. Next day Schurmann sent around a note of apology explaining that his tipsy condition was responsible for the silliness. "I think I could have taken, him," mused Sullivan. "He's smaller than I am."

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