74 4 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
New York completed my dress. I went ahead 
of Hans in the way of head gear, as I had a 
regular felt hat, while his best shift was a peaked 
uniform cap that made him look like some rail¬ 
road conductor. 
Old Jim and Fred rowed us ashore, as they 
were going to stay aboard, and landed us at 
the pier, and a motly looking lot of men we 
were when the surroundings of shipboard were 
replaced by shore scenes. 
We each had five dollars in Chila.no money, 
equal to two and a quarter in American coin. 
Our idea was to get into a saltpeter car and 
ride up to the top of the mountain, where we 
were told there was quite a city; but when we 
inquired about the cars, we found there would 
not be another going up until 5 o’clock that 
evening, so we turned toward the village to 
see what amusement we could find there. At 
the entrance was a high picket fence with a 
soldier standing guard at the gate. We passed 
through without being challenged and walked 
the whole length of the one dirty lane on each 
side of which were built one or two decent 
frame houses and the rest were small hovels 
filled with dirty children and their parents. In 
several a pig lay sleeping on the floor as much 
DESERTING THE DARK AT NIGHT. 
at home as any of the family. Every body 
came to their doors as we passed and stared 
at us; but that didn’t bother us any. We walked 
on to the end of the street and found further 
progress impossible, as the shores came up 
from' the sea so steep it was dangerous in most 
places to walk. 
So we started back and stopped at every gin- 
mill we came to. Out of about thirty huts, there 
were about ten that sold liquor. But the last 
place we came to near the gate was the largest 
and best store in the place; here they had every¬ 
thing for sale, and the proprietor could speak 
English and here we spent a couple of hours 
talking and drinking. I invested all my money 
in brown sugar, condensed milk, cocoa and 
crackers, as I did not drink, and had a feast on 
them. Not wanting to return to the bark yet, 
Joe and. I proposed a climb up the mountain; 
I knew if we stayed there very long every one 
would be blind drunk. Charlie had run across 
one of our lancheros, who came down the 
street with a spotless white starched shirt shin¬ 
ing in the sun. Not a coat, vest, or collar did 
he have, but he did have on a pair of cuffs; 
where he got hold of such things was a mystery 
to me. We left these two in conversation and 
started to climb the mountain. It was too 
steep to climb straight up, so we had to zig¬ 
zag our way. We intended to go to the top, but 
after an hour’s hot climbing under a tropical 
sun, we were glad enough to stop at the first 
saltpeter lift; which was only about one-third 
the ( distance, up the mountain. At this station, 
or lift, as it is called, we found a narrow ledge 
of level ground with a shed alongside the slide 
and the keeper’s house back of it. 
There was a car’ standing on the track with a 
large iron tank full of water on it, for the coun¬ 
try on top of the mountain depended on the 
[May 9, 1908. 
condensing works at the beach for fresh water. 
We dropped down on a bench in one corner 
of the shed, glad to get under some shade, for 
the glare of the sun on the light brown sand was 
most trying to the eyes. 
Here we sat and looked over the queer con¬ 
trivance of wheels and brakes that controlled 
the speed of the cars going up and down the 
slide by a couple of turns of the cable around 
a drum. Below us lay the town on the narrow 
crescent-shaped beach, and its houses, with the 
ships anchored in the bay, looked as small as 
a child’s toys. We were already many times 
higher than the masthead of the tallest ship and 
could look down on their decks and see little 
black dots that indicated men moving about on 
them. Right at our feet, at the bottom of the 
slide, the little pier ran out into the water with 
is tracks for the cars to run on, its small iron 
cranes along the side for hoisting cargo out of 
the lighters and the chutes to slide the salt¬ 
peter from the cars into the lighters. Off the 
end of the pier to the left lay the fleet of thirty 
or forty lighters at anchor, idle for the day. 
As far as the eye could reach to the westward 
the calm blue waters of the Pacific lay sparkling 
under a cloudless sky. Not a sail was visible, 
and after studying the toy houses and ships be¬ 
low us we decided to descend. 
Before we started I tried the faucet of the 
tank car, and succeeded in turning it on and we 
all had a drink, but had some difficulty in shut¬ 
ting it off again. Then we started down, and, 
by running and jumping, reached the bottom in 
less than fifteen minutes. 
The rest, of the afternoon until about 4 o’clock 
we spent in the store talking with several men, 
among them being a.Spaniard or a Frenchman— 
it was hard to tell just which—by the name of 
Charlie, and he got into earnest conversation 
with Bill and Joe. It seems he wanted those 
two to run away from the W. and ship on a 
Chilano bark in Pisauga that was going to San 
Francisco. . Joe asked me to go and I told him 
I would think it over. So he carefully made all 
arrangements to desert the bark, while I was 
amused by watching a procession of natives that 
were going by the door. It seems they were 
having a carnival, a kind of masquerading time. 
There was one character, the center of attrac¬ 
tion for all the young urchins of the place, 
called the Mexican Barber, dressed in various 
articles of women’s wearing apparel. He was 
so smeared with chalk, blueing and some kind c 
bright red and yellow powders that his naturall 
hideous face was a fright to look at. Up an 
down the street he staggered, getting a drinl 
where ever he stopped until he finally ended u; 
in the store where we were and was put to slee; 
in a chair. The proprietor informed me h 
came from Mexico and that was why they callei 
him the “Mexican Barber.” No one though 
of such a thing as harming him, although hi 
was the butt of the town. 
[to be continued.] 
Carl C. Riotte. 
We deeply regret to have to announce the 
death on Wednesday. April 22, of Mr. Carl C 
Riotte, the well known inventor of the famou: 
Standard gasoline motor. Mr. Riotte was e 
native of California, where he was born in 1874 
He became well known in and around New 
York when he and his brother, Eugene, started 
the Empire Marine Motors at 1955 Park Ave. 
This engine was so successful, it was not long 
before, with the co-operation of Mr. Lewis 
Nixon and others, the Standard Motor Co. was 
organized, and a shop erected at Jersey City, 
where Mr. Riotte’s genius perfected the to-day 
well-known Standard engines. The motor world 
loses one of its brightest stars in the death of 
Mr. Carl C. Riotte. 
At Bristol, R. 1. 
There is but little new work being done at 
the Herreshoff yard at Bristol, R. I., the only 
new boat being the 15-footer Nat. Herreshoff 
is building for his daughter and nephew. 
1 he class Q boat Eleanor is having a new 
canvas deck laid, and in spite of various rumors 
to the contrary, Istalena, Avenger and Aurora 
are fitting out. the former being afloat at a 
mooring, and all three will be put into the 
races this summer. 
An interesting lecture on “The Storm Heroes 
of Our Coast” was delivered by Mr. Arthur K. 
Peck before the members of the New York Y. 
C. on the evening of April 30. The lecture was 
illustrated by many interesting stereop'ticon 
views of wrecks. 
THE PORT OF CALET0 BUENO, CHILE. 
Showing the saltpeter slide up the mountainside. 
