Jan. 20, 1894.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



47 



the women and the rubber, the cacas and skins that the 

 Sumos had gathered? True, thi« happened long, long ago, 

 but there were yet alive Sumo fathers who could remem- 

 ber those raids. No. They could not go into that dread- 

 ful lower river country. 



So I negotiated with the Sambos for a canoe and crew. 

 But my introduction was against me. Had I not come 

 from the Sumo country, and beyond? Everybody knew 

 that beyond the Sumos lay the land of the Spanish people, 

 and they were the hereditary enemies of the Waiknas. 

 Had not their ancestors hunted with bloodhounds the for- 

 bears of the Sambos? Their men-of-war had captured 

 and hanged those good friends of the Mosquitos, the 

 English pirates. No. I might possibly be English — all 

 men of white skin and brown hair are probably English — 

 but shall not a man be judged by the company he keeps? 

 It could not be safe to trust a good canoe and four men to 

 the uncertain mercies of one whose good manners had 

 doubtless been corrupted by evil communication, and 

 who could shoot a bird from an immensely tall tree. 



"Then you may go to the devil direct, with your men 

 and your canoe!" I explained in English, and with 

 <emphasis. 



That bothered the old man, who was at the head of the 

 village. He was quite aware of the power of the devil. 

 Had not the sukias kept him well informed on that point 

 all his life? Surely the devil has prodigious power for 

 harm. Why else had his Waikna ancesters worshipped 

 the Evil One all their lives, and paid tribute to him — 

 through the sukias. And these Americans — how could they 

 dare to laugh at and even deride the devil himself, and 



two or three yards of bright ribbon. Then I asked them 

 privately to consent to go to XJalpa-tanta with me, and ex- 

 plained that they need not really go. 



I closed the valise, and so shut from covetous eyes the 

 rich store of bright tnings, the like of which had not been 

 seen on that river. The Sumo girl carried it to her canoe. 

 Then 1 said, this time to the Mosquito women: 



"How much for pipanti and men to carry me to Barre 

 Patuca? I will not buy the canoe." 



There was a council. Were all those riches to escape? 

 Let them once start for TJalpa-tanti and they would be for- 

 ever lost to the inhabitants of Bulne-tara. That must 

 surply not be. 



"Will take you to Ualpa-tanti for five pesos," said the 

 ruler. 



"No; I wish a crew to go to Patuca." 



"We will go to Patuca for fifteen pesos." 



That would be at the rate of about a dollar for each 

 man, which was four times as much as they ought to 

 have. 



"I'll give you ten pesos for the pipanti and five new 

 mahogany paddles," said I, "and for four good men to 

 take me safe to the sea I'll give you this, and this and 

 this," and I laid out strings of beads, rare necklaces of 

 glass, mirrors in zinc frames, handkerchiefs in brilliant 

 colors, and combs that were much needed, although those 

 of finer make and teeth might have been more effective, 

 better even than the fingers of the women were for cap- 

 turing small game that abounds wherever the Sambo 

 finds place to lay his head. 



Ten minutes later the Sumos paddled into the Uampu 



mountains which have borne that sacred name perhaps 

 through uncounted centuries. 



Here and there in the forests and on the prairies spots 

 of silver gleaming in the noonday sun, showed where lay 

 some river or some lake. They marked the distances, 

 too; and told me that the way was long and devious 

 between me and the sea. We started down the hill. 



Half way down mv guide jumped into the air with a 

 yell. 



"Tamagas!" he shouted. "Tamagas tara, tara!" 

 "Where is your' big, big snake?" 



"Here, in the bamboo," he replied, pointing to the base 

 of a cluster of bamboo that sprung from a sunny spot. 

 The place was a deep bed of dead yellow leaves, long and 

 pointed, that had slid down the glossy stalk of the gigan- 

 tic grass. Serpents love such dry, loose gatherings of 

 foliage, for no peccary can pursue them there. But hid- 

 den in my pocket was a foe that could follow to every 

 cranny and destroy whatever life might be there. 



I took from the India rubber inkstand two or three 

 waxen matches and fired the leaves in half a dozen spots. 

 In a minute the flames swept over the whole heap. My 

 guide stood uneasily watching, machete in hand. I held 

 my gun cocked. Then Sambo yelled again and ran; but the 

 poor snake that writhed in burning agony in the trail 

 had no design other than to escape. A shot ended its 

 torments and unluckily tore its head so badly that I could 

 make no satisfactory study of its fangs and poison sacks. 



A shout told me that my guide was up the hill, so I 

 meanly stretched the snake across the trail, his head con- 

 cealed by a tuft of leaves. Then I started down the moun- 



YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK RAPIDS OF YELLOWSTONE RIVER. 



scoff at his powers, if they were not at least his equals? 

 What if they should be his superior in power to make 

 mischief ? Suppose it were true, as had been said, that 

 the God of these white-faced, quick-shooting Americans 

 had once overpowered the devil in pitched battle, would 

 it not be the duty of the cunning man, who had a family 

 and his own skin to look out for, to make a friend of one 

 who had such powerful allies? 



At the landing lay a new pipanti, hewn from a mahog- 

 any trunk. It was large, well made and clean. 



"What will you sell the new pipanti for; how much?" I 

 asked. 



There was another consultation, in which the men and 

 women took active part. They knew as well as I did that 

 fifteen pesos (silver dollars) would be a good price for the 

 canoe delivered at the sea coast; but how were they to 

 learn how much a bug-hunting lunatic of an American 

 might be made to pay to help him out of a pinch? 



"How much for pipanti?" the chief asked. 



"Ten pesos," I replied emphatically. 



That staggered them. They began jabbering together, 

 the women protesting against the trade. 



"Pipanti tara. Pipanti _pme," they shouted savagely. 



"I know it's big; I know it's fine," I retorted. "That's 

 why I offer ten dollars — ten big, fine dollars, like this. 

 See!" and I held a bright peso up by its edges where all 

 could see. 



"Apia, apia!" shouted the women. "No, no!" 



My Sumos were anxious to start for home. They had 

 no wish to spend the night among the Waiknas. The 

 husband wa3 even more anxious than his wife was to re- 

 gain the safe shelter beyond the first rapids of the Uampu. 

 So I handed to them the pay that was due. Then I 

 opened my valise, and so exposed the bright silver-plated 

 revolver that lay therin. I fired three or four shots in 

 quick succession, and then kindly warned the crowd to 

 never try to open that valise if they wished to be safe 

 from the wicked work of that gun. 



To the Sumo man I gave a bright red cotton handker- 

 chief and a most substantial pocket knife, which I showed 

 him how to operate. He was proud, happy, wealthy. 

 His wife was expectant, jealous, fearful; but her face was 

 radiant when I put into her hands a lovely coarse comb 

 of horn, stained to resemble tortoise shell, a mirror and 



and out of sight; my hammock swung under the bestroof 

 in the place; girls brought a metale half full of oranges 

 fresh from the tree; a boy brought a score of maraiVnes 

 in a calabash, and I was the honored, rich and powerful 

 guest of the tribe. 



I stood at noon the next day on the edge of a- crag, a 

 thousand feet and more above the village. The Guayape 

 lay. a broad, shining band of silver winding through the 

 black of the forest. Hill rose behind hill between me and 

 the far away dam of red basalt and black lava, through 

 which the river broke a way a thousand feet deep to 

 drain the great lake which was where the fertile valley of 

 Olancho is. The hills along the Segovia, boundary be- 

 tween Nicaragua and Honduras, were a half day's jour- 

 ney to the. coast. 



I turned to face the north wind that forever sweeps 

 across that hill. The top of the forest was green near at 

 hand, but darkened into blue that was almost black where 

 long-leafed pines fringed the wide prairies, carpeted by 

 grasses already ripe and green in April. League beyond 

 league those sunny plains stretched toward blue and 

 sparkling Caribbean, full sixty miles away. 



Far in the northwest Payas peak lifted its bead almost 

 four thousand feet above el rio Negro, that flows along 

 the base. The grand, smooth summit of Sugar loaf was 

 near, fifteen hundx-ed feet lower than the rough crest of 

 its lofty neighbor. Beyond them wooded slopes ran down 

 to the sea, twenty miles distant. 



My field glass plainly showed the broad, flat point 

 where the Segovia has built Cape Gracias out into the sea 

 from sands stolen from the golden mountains of Nicaragua 

 and Honduras. It is the easternmost outpost of Central 

 America. It is the spot where in 1497 Pinzon and Solis, 

 and Amerigo Vespucci their pilot, first set foot on the 

 western continent. It is the point where Columbus and 

 his crew of ruffians, after weeks of buffeting by head 

 winds that might have done well for the new world by 

 drowning the lot of them, piously cried, "Thanks to God," 

 and Cape Gracias a Dios it has remained. 



Westward from the cape is a broad break in the coast 

 line. It is Caratasca Lagoon, on the shores of which 

 Pinzon and Solis first found gold, and Vespucci first 

 heard the name of the Americas — those people who 

 dwelt amid the mountains 250 miles to the southward — 



tain. 'Twas long before that Indian overtook me. He 

 was sulky about something and nervous. He got a piece 

 of root of the guaco and chewed it as soon as we entered 

 the watla on the riverside. He told of our adventure, 

 and no doubt magnified the danger and the snake in the 

 telling. E. W. Perry. 



[TO BE CONCLUDED.] 



A Note from Avoca. 



William E. Capehart Jr., of Avoca, N. C, is a promising 

 young sportsman. He is not yet fourteen, but he has had 

 considerable experience with guns and dogs, and is an 

 entertaining companion. He can call in quail by imitating 

 the female bird, and he has broken 20 artificial targets with 

 his little 16-gauge. His shooting has not been up to his 

 standard recently, yet a score of four quail out of nine 

 shots is nothing to be ashamed of. This is what he says 

 in a letter dated Jan. 5: "I have been hunting three times 

 since you left, killed four out of nine shots. The dogs 

 have been hunting very well. Yesterday evening two of 

 the girls were out driving and saw fifteen wild turkeys in 

 the road. I am baiting them, and hope to get a shot soon. 

 I went turkey hunting the other day, but did not get a 

 shot. Wade gets better every day, and I think by the end 

 of the season he will be a good dog, and Dash has hunted 

 better than I ever saw him. I am busy at school again, 

 so haven't much time for hunting." J. B. Burnham. 



Ring Pheasants in Illinois. 



Mr. John Pitt exhibited a Chinese pheasant at this office 

 last Saturday, which was killed a few days days ago, and 

 which he had mounted. The bird was killed by William 

 Pitt on his farm near Powelton, William thinking it was 

 a wild duck, as he could not get a good view of it. The 

 bird is considerably larger than a, prairie chicken and of 

 brilliant colored plumage. Dr. Blaisdell, of Macomb, im- 

 ported a number of these birds during the past few years 

 and let them loose for the purpose of propagation. _ The 

 appearance of this bird in this part of the country is evi- 

 dence that they are spreading and can be raised success- 

 fully. 'Tis pity that they should be killed,— Nauvoo (III.) 

 Independent, £>ee. 2?, . 



