THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH.
'
THIRD PART.
PAGES 17 TO 20.
k .. .-,- , - .
AHANDFULOF BEADS
"Will Buy a Ton of Liory in
the Heart of Africa.
TBAPS FOR THE ELEPHANT.
Casement's Party Beaches the Head
waters and Returns.
EXPEKIEKCES WITH THE LUFEMBI
IWBITTEN FOR THE DISPATCH. 1
Concluding Number.
UK. greeting at
Baulu was most
kindly. The usu
al ceremony of
blood brother
hood having
been gone
through by fire
light, presents
were exchanged
between thechicf
and ourselves,
and our men,
quickly striking
u p friendships
with natives on shore (for the Baukindu of
the Equator are an offshoot of the great
Balolo and speak a kindred tongue) were
soon dancing round several fires with their
new-formed chums, while Glave and I
talked to the chief and interviewed him as
to the possibilities of many days steaming
yet before us ere we should reach the end of
navigable river. The chief gave us similar
information to that we had obtained lower
down respecting the upper reaches of the
Malinga, and promised to begin ivory-sell-inc:
operations in the morning.
We had up to this been unsuccessful in
obtaining anything like tbe quantity of
ivory we expected to find in the Lulungu,
our total stock purchased and that received
as presents from ''blood brothers" amount
to a fewhundred pounds' weight, which had
cost us pretty dear, too.
BUYING THE TUSKS.
However, in the morning we found our
selves surrounded by canoes containing mag
nificent tusks, or were besieged from the
shore side by a crowd of old Lolos, followed
by sons or slaves staggering under beautiful
white CO-pound or 70-pound tusks. Fully a
ton-weight of ivory was brought alongside
the Florida that day, but Glave, unwilling
to spoil the price, would only buy about 350
to 400 pounds" weight of it, which he secured
for prices averaging 2 pence and 3 pence
per pound, paid chiefly in brass wire and
white and blue beads, such as children use
at home lor making into toy rings, which
these larger African children put to the very
same uses. A man on getting paid for the
ivory he had just sold would make oil at
once with the tin soup plate full of beads
in his hands, glowiug lengths of red cotton
handkerchiefs or blue cloth streaming out
behind him; and the other items received,
such as spoons, brass wire, mirrors and odds
and ends lite these, gracing the arms ot his
adherents who followed. The crowd oi
would-be sellers of ivory, who regarded with
longing eyes this ravaging transit of such
wealth through their midst, or even grabbed
at the beads as they shot past, thereby pro
voking an awml row and scattering of many
small boys to the winds, and sometimes the
precious beads themselves, when tb scram
ble which ensued beggars description.
Once safely past the throngaround the land
ing place, the aged ivory merchant would
make for home with rapid steps, where the
admiring whoops of his domestic circle and
the instantaneous demands tor beads put
forth by every female member of the estab
lishment, speedily made him long for the
peace and solitude of the forest, where he
had helped, perhaps, to slay the elephant
that now brought Imi all this accession of
cares.
DRESSED IX THEIIS riNEET.
However, a division having been made,
the favorile wile, no doubt, helpiug her
Eclf to the largest share, and a portion being
put away against future gala occasions, the
old .Lothario encompassed by nis sisters,
cousins, aunts and wives, all resplendent in
necklets, bracelets or rings oi blue, white
A Village Built on Itles.
and pink beads, would return, leaning on
his copper-halted ppear to gaze on the
anxiously waiting throng of expectant sel
lers, longing to convert their ivory into
such magnificence as this now lully dis
played to them.
The small boys took to attaching any
beads they could get hold of to the little
tails alreadv described, which terminates
the masculine Lolo costume in the rear.
So overpowering became the desire to pos
sess beads, that often when, to save our
scanty stock from diminishing too last, we
would offer tempting lengths of colored cot
tons, or strips of stout, red cloth in lieu of
beads to complete some bargain, they would
assail us with cries of- "Ko, no! Give us
something to wear we want beads!"
A busy day was thus spent at Baulu, and
promising to buy plenty of their remaining
ivory on our return, by which time we
guessed the beads would have done their
deadly work, we bade farewell to the chief,
and kindlv disposed people of this happy
Central African village. Lest some mav
say that to buy tusks of ivory worth 55 in
Europe at the cost of only a few cents in
Africa is robbing the savage'who sells it, I
can only reply that if every vender of im
ported goods in this country is as satisfied
with his 150 to 200 per cent urofit as these
Baulu ivory traders were with their bead
and cowrie haul, then we should never hear
another word about free trade.
VILLAGES ON TILES.
We left Baulu in the afternoon and speed
ily became aware of the fact that we had
left dry land behind us also, for the two
little villages we soon came to consisted of
huts raised upon piles standing in the water
and around on every side we could see no
trace of bank or shore to the river, The
bordering line of great forest trees on each
hand stood in the rushing water, and as we
steamed on hoping to come to some spot
where solid earth would enable us to camp
for the night and cut up dead wood for next
day we passed frequent little fishing settle
ments, but all constructed in the same man
ner. At last we were compelled by darkness J
m4
and want of fuel to stop atone of these for
the night. The occupants of the few houses
speedily stepped from off their little veran
das into their dugont canoes fastened to
one of the supporting pillars of the structure
aud came out to us where we had attached
the bow of the steamer to the jutting branch
of a fallen tree which rose from the surface
of the river.
Other canoes from the villages we had
passed gathered around us too, and fresh
detachments from up river came down to us,
bringing firewood to sell for beads and cow
ries, and big lumps of gum copal, which
make a capital blaze. We were surrounded
for hours by these poor creatures, anxious to
obtain a few of theniuch-coveted possessions
of the white men; 3nd, thanks to the sup
plies of wood they brought us, were enabled
next morning to resume our journey. Day
alter day our journey led us between swampy,
overflowed banks, every now and then
bringing us to villages erected on piles
standing in the water similar to those we
had passed.
MISERY AND "WRETCHEDNESS.
The inhabitants of these wretched river
dwellings were poor in the extreme, and led
a terrible, hunted existence, exposed on the
forest side to the ferocious attacks of the
Lufembi cannibals and on the river suffer
ing from the raiding canoes of the more
powerful villages lower down. As we
journeved higher up the misery and wretch
edness seemed to increase, while the num
ber of villages we encountered grew less
and less. Sometimes Irom a few tumbling,
broken-down structures standing in the
silent, still waters of some little inlet lead
ing to the deep forest would come a voice
hailing us to stop, and a single man would
put off to try and intercept us,
At last, "after many days of this, we
reached a point beyond which the natives of
Mompono, the last village we had seen,
told us we should find no villages and no hu
man beings. For three days wo steamed up
the ever-narrow ing reaches of the river, its
current increasing in lorce as it grew
smaller; round sharp corners, where our
bows were driven into the opposite bank
and the funnel got entangled in the branches .'
TBADINO IVORY
of the overhanging trees, and yet without
seeing a single canoe or trace ot human nab
itfitfriTt On nrortr cina nrlnnHil tVin eilArtt
illimitable forest, haunted by elephants and
buffaloes we knew, for the banks, which
rose from the water here, bore frequent
traces of the passage across the stream qf
these huge bru'es, and the lurking places,
we suspected, of Lufembi jsavages, if even
these wild people could make their hemes
in its impenetrable depths.
THE HEAET OF A CONTINENT.
Climbing a tree one day which stood on a
bluff wnose river face was clothed in a cling
ing mass of terns and creepers, I looked in
land and away up river. Everywhere
spread a broad, boundless expanse of trees
a wave of thick forest extending from my
teet to the furthest limits of the horizon".
There was no change in any direction
overhead the clear sky and the bright sun
light, underneath and all around level with
the sky line the dark forest and its still
impenetrable wall of foliage. I could not
help feeling that this was indeed the heart
of Africa; that here, far from the outer
world, throbbed the pulses of a hidden con
tinent. What strange life might not lie
concealed in those silent woodland depths ?
Whence came this mysterious river, welling
silently up from the dim, swampv recesses
ot the surrounding forest through which,
for ages and ages, the elephant had roamed
and savage man through countless genera
tions of barbarians had pursued the same
daily, monthly, yearly round of bloodshed
aud misery, laughter and death cannibal
feasts and parental jov when another little
savage had opened his baby eyes oa the
theater of life, whose strange scenes and
stranger characters were to de-elop before
his gaze behind that screen of forest barrier
which the genius of Africa hasraised around
her inmost shrine.
Several days were passed traversing the
dreary solitudes, without coming iu contact
with a single human being. And each day
our supply of food grew less, without any
means of replenishing it.
A VOICE FROM THE TREES.
On the fourth day we were surprised to
hear a voice coming from the trees, and to
listen to a native shout. We sent our
canoe, and brought him on board the Flor
ida; but this was nbt done without diffi
culty, for our men had a sharp chase before
he was finally caught. He was a very, sul
len fellow, and our interpreter had some
trouble in coaxing him to speak at all. We
were not very far from a village, he told us.
At his request a drum was handed him, and
he beat a signal to his village. We heard
the answering signal. He told us,
too, that they would know that it
meant strangers were here, and that we
should soon see plenty oi his people.
In the morning a number ot strange-looking
men came down toward us in canoes,
brineiog fuel and presents. We soon made
friends. We learned that their village was
three or four miles off. These people were
Balolo, and had the same peculiar tribal
marks I have already mentioned. I went
over to their village, a wretchedly poor
place, with absolutely nothing to trade and
only one poor tusk of ivory in the whole
village. Leaving the poverty-stricken set
tlement behind us, we started up stream
again with the utmost care, lor we soon dis
covered that there was a succession of sharp
turns and no end of snags immediately
ahead. In avoiding these we were con
stantly running into the banks, for just at
this point the stream is narrower and more
rapid than at any other.
SIGNS OF LIFE AGAIN.
Toward evening we came to traces of an
encampment on the left bank of the river,
where the Lufembi, the dreaded tribe of
cannibals, were said to be. These were the
first signs ol houses we had seen in four
days; for the last three days had been spent
in dodging the snags of the river and avoid
ing disaster to the Florida. There were no
signs of life about the encampment, so we
stopped and sounded a shrill blast Irom the
steamwhistle; but there was no response
save the echoes which seemed to repeat
themselves indefinitely before dying out on.
the wooded shores. We pushed on for a"
mile or more, and then we observed fires on
shore and two men standing near the edge
of the bank. As the Florida drew near one
of the men ran off with the speed of a deer,
and the other, almost equally alarmed by
our sudden appearance, darted in behind
the trees and regarded us from that point
ol vantage. Several of our men jumped on
shore and tried by persuasion to coax him
to come to us, but it was useless. After a
while he, too, disappeared.
Judging by all the signs we thought there
must be a village near, and bo we decided to
camp there. That afternoon while we were
getting in firewood there was a sudden com
motion and a great crowd of natives swarmed
down upon us. They stood off at a respect
ful distance, evidently hardly knowing what
to do about it, and we went out toward
them, bnt they retired. This was not an
auspicious beginning to our acquaintance,
so we sent a deputation consisting of four
of our own natives belonging to the crew to
parley with them. Our men returned in an
hour and reported that they had met a great
crowd of natives armed with spears and
shields, their bodies painted, and with a
very fierce, warlike appearance.
WAKSED OF THE LUFEMBI.
"You cannot go on," was the reply of
their head-man to our messengers. "The
Lufembi, with many canoes, have passed up
the river. .No one ever sleeps nere on mis
bank. If you try it you will all have your
throats cut."
This was not particularly cheering; but
we decided to sleep there, nevertheless, and
sleep we did. A strong guard was detailed
to prevent a surprise. In the morning we
would go up to the village, which was
named Bolando, and whose people, like all
the Balolo, were kindred to the fierce Lu
fembi, and at the same time frequent suf
ferers at their hands.
While we were dozing around the camp
fires, in fancied security, a great shout sud
denly went up and there was an instant
panic, resembling the scare we had ex
perienced at a point 1UU nines lurtuer down
the river. Rifles and revolvers were dis
charged, and when we heard drums beating
in several directions we felt certain that the
dreaded Lufenibi were upon us in force.
Owing to the impenetrable darkness we were
in ignorance of the cause of all this con
fusion. After awhile the firing ceased and
the frightened crew of the Florida were once
more convinced that they had been the vic
tims of a false alarm, as no enemy appeared.
The dibtant drums, however.continued to beat
at intervals, and it was not uuiil daylight that
FOR BEADS.
onrcamp felt quite secure from attack of the
invisible enemy. They wore, when our
delegation met them, a variety of weapons,
the principal one being a wooden knife, in
shape somewhat like a pruning hook, this
made of an exceedingly hard and durable
wood, sharpened to a point, and they used
it very skillfully. In conversation they
emploved it to emphasize their talk, and it
was not encouraging to our messengers to
see these savages brandishing their ugly
looking machetes at every sentence or two.
TURNING DOWN STREAM.
Although we were exceedingly anxious
to push forward to the elephant country,
where, in its native habitat, the forest giant,
we were assured, could be found in vast
numbers, we could not possibly do it. We
had exhausted our food supply, and the
problem of revictualing was becoming
harder daily. Besides, we were due back
at Kinchasa by a certain date; so we regret
fully turned the Florida's bows downriver
and began our homeward journey. The
current was strong and the Florida sus
tained considerable damage, but not enough
to prevent us from continuing our journey.
Finally, we got through the dangerous
swells and currents and into safe(watcr,
aiter which our progress down stream was
very rapid.
On getting back to Baulu, we bought a
great quantity of ivory about 2,000 pounds
of it, aud of a very superior quality. Our
journey to Malinea was continued "without
incident. There we were greeted by the
natives in the same cordial way as on our
first arrival; buta serious event had hap
pened during our absence. Their village
had been attacked by the cannibal Lulembi
in force; a sharp fight had taken place and
the assailants had finally been repulsed.
Prisoners had been taken by both sides, and
when we came upon the scene there were five
Lufembi warriors in the hands of the Mal
ingas. All this the head man told ns when
he came on board the Florida on the even
ing of our arrival.
THE CAPTIVE CANNIBALS.
Going ashore I saw one or two of the cap
tive cannibals tied up to huge logs, which
ere cu-.ineu aunui meir necics. xliese
srvages talk practically the same language
as thellalingas, who are. as I have already
explained, a branch of the great Lulembi
race, and have the same peculiar tribal
marks on their bodies, even to the ridges on
their faces. Physically the Lufembi men
are magnificent men; tall, clean-limbed and
dignified Jooking. A peculiarity about
them is that they are, as I was informed by
the head man, vegetarians in all else except
their horrible love of human flesh. They
differ from other savage races in the fact that,
according to all we could learn, they make
war solely through a desire to get their
enemies to eat, and not because they hate
them or from motives of vengeance. They
are the true man hunters, who follow the
human game to gratify their frightful ap
petite for flesh.
The prisoners in the hands of the Malin
gas were stoics, and bore themselves bravelv.
A. savage, although he knows he is to be
killed the next morning, will make no out
cry, nor will he try to escape. Their eyes
had a passive expression, and they faced
tbeirjfate uncomplainingly. The Lufembi
villages are large and populous, we were
told at Malinga, and they have fine planta
tions, their occupation, when not making
war, being almost wholly agricultural.
HUNTING THE ELEPHANT.
Prominent among these great African in
land tribes are the elephant hunters, into
whose country we had penetrated, aud some
of whom we had seen. They are large, pow
erful men, and physically the equal of the
Lu.embi. Their method ot hunting is sim
ple and effective. First a watch is kept
until the place in the forest where the ele
phants are accustomed to pass when going
to the river is discovered. Then the hunt
ers choose a large tree hanging over the ele
phant path and to a stout limb they attach
a broad-bladed,. strong spear, which is hung
point downward in such a manner that the
head of the weapon is exactly over the cen
ter of the path.
Attached to the upper end and above the
blade is a ponderous weight of wood or
metal, which it sometimes takes 50 men to
lift into position. On each side of the path is
the tall forest grass. A rope stretched across
the path and hiddeu from sight connects
with the trap overhead. The elephant in
passing strikes the concealed rope, the trar
overhead is sprung, and the broad, keen
oiaae, impelled by the great weight above
PITTSBURG, SUNDAY,
it, crashes through the foliage and pene
trates the back of the huge brute at a vital
point, generally back of the head and be
tween the shoulders. So accurate are the
traps of these elephant hunters that the
game needs no finishing stroke after the trap
has done its work.
"If, when you are passing through the for
est, you hear a whirring noise in the
branches overhead," said the head man at
Banmfnnn, "spring forward, or yon are
The Elephant Trap.
lost. A movement in the other direction will
be fatal, for no one can escape an elephant
trap unless he leaps forward instantly, while
it is falling."
AMONG THE CIVILIZED AOAIN.
We returned to Equator where we dis
charged our native crew, took on board the
Zauzibaris and Loando natives, and then
continued on to Kinchasa. On reaching the
head of Stanley Pool, we raw from the deck
of the Florida a pleasing and unexpected
sight. On shore among the trees were sev
eral neat-looking tents and, approaching
closer, we were met by two joung English
men who had come out there to hunt ele
phants. They had already shot three ele
phants, several buffaloes and an antelope,
and were looking forward to more excellent
sport. We went ashore at their invitation
and stopped there for the day, staiting up
steam again in the Florida after breakfast
next morning. I need hardly say that we
enjoyed this little episode after our long
sojourn among the savages of the upper
Malinga. One of our hosts, Walter Dean,
a splendid young fellow, was killed by an
elephant a few months afterward.
We arrived satelv at Stanlev Pool station
on December 17. Ten days before our re
turn the chief of the station, a German, had
died after a. short illness. So ended our
memorable journey up the till then unex
plored Malinga to the land of the elephant,
the hunted Baiolo, and the terrible, man
eating Lufembi. Roger Casement.
BOATING IN TUB HIMALAYAS.
Tlio Craft nre Inflated Buflhlo Skins
nod
They're Ilnrd lo Ride.
A correspondent of the A'eto York Herald,
writing on his trip in the Himalaya Mount
ains, says: At the river I found ferry ac
commodations as primitive possibly as
any can be found in the heart of Africa. In
flated buffalo skins are the only boats used
onthcSutlej at Seonee. For this purpose
the skins are removed from the animal in
an entire piece. The apertures are all care
fully sewed except one through which the
skin is inflated. When the Sutlej ferryman
has a passenger to cross the river he
twitches down from a pole above his hut the
limp, collapsed skin aud starts for the river
where it is immersed for a moment; then the
leg of the skin which contains the inflating
aperture is turned up, when he
places his mouth over it and
A Vera Uncertain Craft.
blows for dear life or rupees. His face red
dens and pales with every exhalation into
the great skin. When filled he presses it
with his knees to sorine it to its full com
pass, then blows into it again until it has
the rigid tension of a drum. He at last
closes the'opening with a string and pitches
it upon the water. To enter his boat, or
rather to mount it, he places himself across
the buoyant skin on his stomach, using a
short paddle on one side and his feet as
paddles on the other. One large skin m ill
buoy five or six men, but it will not balance
them, so that when more than two persons
are to be carried two skins are placed side
by side and a frame is made to extend be
tween them. The river at Seonee is about
100 yards wide, deep and with a strong cur
rent. I crossed and returned, sitting both
times astride my boatman.
CRIMINALS HAYE VANITY.
Their Conscience IJnri-lj.Dereloncd Before
Thcr Are Cnnglit.
London Saturday Review. 1
Criminals are vain almost to a man, and
to use the revolver is to mount almost with
a bound to the top of their ladder of fame.
As to conscience, they develop it sometimes
when caught, but very rarely before, the
very possession of such a monitor warning
the hesitating from a trade which nowadays
involves so often murder ns an incidental
instrument of escape. .Besides, the age in
fluences criminals as it influences all other
men, and "the age," for reasons we do not
pretend fully to comprehend, is losing some
of its ancient and natural horror at murder,
and has transferred its dangerous wrath to
those cruelties which leave their victim
alive. Tnis phase of feeling will pass, the
instinctive sense of rieht and wrong coin
ciding in this case with the permanent de
termination of humanity to keep itself safe;
but for the moment it is powerful, aud with
criminals as with tho rest.
How can burglars think murder a worse
crime than burglary, when educated men,
incapable of hurting any created thing, talk
of parricides as victims of heredity, and
pity their "blighted lives?" Or how can
the fear of the gallows coerce them, when
they see that a capital sentence rouses the
whole nation to discussion, and great par
ties, as in the atrocious Lipski case, to pro
test, while the much more terrible, though
less dreaded, sentence of penal servitude for
life scarcely evokes a comment? Iu Texas,
it is said, men of the desperado class will
commit any crime but tone with light hearts.
It takes exceptional daring even there to
steal a horse, for the p'enalty ior horse steal
ing is instant death at the hands of the
democracy, which has no pardon for that
supreme offence against its own safety and
profits. i
CO -
MARCH 30, 1890.
A FAMOUS SALT MINE.
Trip Through Its Gloomy. Corridors
Walled in Solid White.
A SHRINE IN A MOUNTAIN'S HEART.
Every Day Life in One of tho Typical Rural
Homes of Colombia.
CONTRAST IN THE HUTS OP THE POOR
f CORRESPONDENCE OP THE DISPATCH.
Bogota, Colombia, February 25.
N order to give you some
idea of rnral life in Colom
bia, permit me to tell you of
a visit we have lately been
making to the most famous
salt mines in the world, which
are located jnst beyond the
village of Zipaquira, on the
other edge of the great plain
of Bogota. The rood, winding most of the
way along the bise of the foot-hills, passes
stretches of swamp that are completely
blackened by myriads of wild duck and
other water fowl.
One need not waste a shot on most
of the so-called wild game here, but may
deliberately walk up and knock it over
with a club. Nothing tells more truly
of the even temperature here than the
various stages of the corn fields, proving
that seedtime and harvest are entirely in the
hands of the husbandman. One field is just
being plowed and planted; another by its
side has a fine crop of full-grown corn, on
stalks higher than a man on horseback;
while a third shows the green blades hardly
a foot above tbe ground. It is the same way
with the n heat. Here are newly sprouted fields
like emerald velvet; close by arc others in
full head; some are being cut, by women,
with short sickles; and in many places the
primitive threshing floor is in operation. It
is an established institution all over South
America. A level place is selected, a circu
lar wall of adobe built around it, and the
earth covered with stones. The wheat isthen
thrown in and a span of horses driven around
and around the inclosure, until their tramp
ing has shelled out the kernels. Sometimes
a flock of sheep is turned in and driven rap
idly to and lro until the same purpose is
accomplished. Then the women come in and
separate the wheat from the chaff by hand,
silting the former into little piles and after
ward putting it into bags.
IN THE TOOREB HOMES.
The few huts. surrounding Santander are
roofed with grass and reeds, with holes cut
in the thatch through which the smoke may
escape, if it will. It seldom avails itself of
tbe privilege, however, but fills the room
&
A Shrine in a Salt Mine.
and pours out of the door, from the fire of
sticks built on the floor or on a sort of cairn
or altar of adobe erected in the middle.
These poor homes are like thousands of
others all over South America, wherein the
lowest classes, who really comprise the bulk
of the population, numerically, are born,
live and die, always in abject poverty, often
in hunger, hut invariably in a state of abso
lute contentment. Thera are no windows
in the walls, and frequently the entrance
has no other door than a bit of
brush set up on occasion, a stolen
board, or an old blanket slung
across. Mother earth furnishes the only
flooring, chairs are unknown, and a bench
or two, with a stationary table of solid
adobe, or a few rough planks nailed to
gether, are considered ample furnishing.
A pile of straw covered with a blanket
forms a luxurious bed, but oftener there are
no beds at all, the people lying down on tbe
ground wherever they like; while the pigs,
fowls, goats, donkeys, or whatever live stock
tbe family arc so fortunate as to possess
besides fleas, lice, et cetera, go in and out at
will, as much at home inside as any of the
other occupants.
The poncho is a South American institu
tion that must by no means be neglected.
It is nothing but a verv large, sauare
blanket, of vnrying degrees of coarseness or
elegance, with a short slit exactlv in the
middle of it, only just large enough to admit
the wearer's head. Having thrust his head
through this hole, which closes tolerably
close around the neck, a man on horseback
is completely covered, and well protected
from dust, rain or cold.
VISITING THE SALT MINE.
We had been invited to remain during our
stay in a pleasant little quinta in the lar
ther suburbs of Zipaquira, with the family
of one of the salt mine owners, and before
darkntss fell we were warmly welcomed
and satelv housed in this hospitable home.
The famous salt mines are located in the
hills directly back of the town. Nobody
knows how old the mines may be, nor how
many millions of tons have been taken out
ot them. Iu the year 1525 the Spaniards
found them old and well established, having
long been worked by the aboriginal tribes;
and ever since they have been worked toi
the benefit of the changing governments, to
this day furnishing the Colombian Govern
ment with about one-eighth of its total
revenue.
Walking up a steep hill to the most ex
tensive workings, we witnessed both the
English and the American systems of con
densing salt; the former iu one big iron
tank, and the latter in numerous- small
ones. In another large building the crude
salt is condensed into solid blocks, and all
the moisture squeezed out ot it by rude
machinery with a lever at one end, forced
down by men with ropes. Tub-shaped
blocks are thus made perfectly solid, and
these, we were told, are sold at 5 leals
each, or about 0 cents American money.
Sometimes a thousand arrobas of salt aire
sold in u single forenoon, an nrroba being
exactly 25 pounds. In another shed a row
of earthenware kettles is fixed over furnaces,
and the salt is thus evaporated into cakes,
the kettles having to be broken to get the
cakes out of them. In another establish
ment the kettles are made of clay, tbe same
as that used for adobe bricks.
Afterward we followed a steep path up
to the opening of tbe principal mine. On
the way thereto we met carts drawn by
oxen loaded with salt, and women bearing
on their backs heavy loads of the same.
While waiting for candles we had time to
look about us and enjoy the unrivalled
view. In front stretched the great Bogota
plain, the ancient elysium of the Chibchas;
to the left, shut in by high mountains, lay
the important townof Nemacon, about six
hours ride from Zipaquira; and Sepo was
dimly discernible a lew miles to the right,
a village made famous by one feeble and
crippled girl, who does the most wonderful
wood carving, representing the people,
birds, beasts, and characteristics scenes oi
Colombia.
SHKINEIN ME MOUNTAIN'S HEART.
Inside the mine, we followed a cartroad
to higher and higher levels, instead of de
scending, as in other mines. The walls were
supported by solid columns of salt; salt
everywhere, around, above, below, nothing
bnt salt. Somebody spoke of Lot's wife,
and another quoted the Scriptural passage,
"If the salt hath lost its savor, wherewith
shall it be salted?" The superintendent in
formed us that this stupendous mountain of
salt must have been formed by the ocean,
which, in prehistoric ages, washed over the
place where we were stauding, but whether
geologists will agree with him, I cannot
say. In some places the salt was white as
snow, and sparkled like diamonds, but as a
rule it was a dirty slate color.
A .vi. tin in ika lian.t nf .T a mm-nA...
.nij Uf IU tut. lltM, U, .UG UJIIUUtUlli
where the air was close to oppression and
the blackness and silence more terrible than
before, is a little chapel, hollowed out of
solid salt, in which is an image of the Vir
gin, surrounded by tall crosses. Night and
day, from year to year, candles are always
kept burning in front of this strange shrine,
and miners never fail to say their prayers
here on entering the mine, fully believing
that this alone saves them from falling into
the clutches of the evil Epirits of the moun
tain. We brought away come crystals from
the river and some coagulated drops of salt
from the works, that had fallen out of the
kettles and formed themselves into the most
curious shapes, like frozen snow, to put be
side some equally strange formations which
I obtained last year from the Great Salt
iake in Utah.
Zipaquira is a charming little village,
celebrated lor its lovely gardens and flowery
patios, especially for its orchids and pansies.
The last-named favorites are politically
called pensamientos (thoughts) reminding
one of Ophelia's words, "Here's pansies,
for thoughts." Juratena, the quinta at
which we were entertained, is shut in among
the hills. That you may understand some
thing of domestic life" among well-to-do
country people of Colombia, let me recount
one day's experience in this hospitable
home.
A DAY'S ROUTINE.
Haying slept soundly under the straw
roof, in little iron bedsteads curtained with
white muslin tied with pink ribbons, we
were awakened at an early hour by the
song of blackbirds and the twittering of a
colony of cacaracheros which make their
nests under the overhanging thatch. Evi
dently somebody had been listening for the
first sound of our voices, for the instant we
were awake the hostess came in bringing
the usual desaguno in the shape of tea,
bread and arcpa-cake and to inform us that,
being in the country, breakfast would be
served at the extremely early hour of 9:30
instead of at noon, as in the city.
When finally summoned to that meal, the
good senora went in ahead, carrying a large
olla, or earthenware jug, of soup just off
the fire. It was made of hot water and
beaten eggs, with plenty of butter, flavored
with fennel and parsley, hard-boiled eggs
put in whole. Next cold boiled mutton
was served, with a bit of cold turkey and
two sweet potatoes served on each plate.
Theti came slices of aguacate, the oily fruit
used for salads, which is sometimes called
"vegetable butter." Then cheese, arepa
cake and the weakest of tea. We may re
mark, en passant, that the Colombians
seem have no idea how to make tea and
drink it mostlv as a medicine. The cheese
is not at all like that found in the United
States, but is white as paper and quite as
tough and tasteless. Arepa cake is made
of crnshed corn and water, without salt or
soda, baked on a griddle or in the ashes, and
unlike a Mexican tortilla.
After breakfast the time was beguiled by
gatherinK,,flflwers along the banks of tho
river, visiting the pigs and poultry, and
viewing the few "sights" of the town. At
3:30 dinner was announced. This is the
ceremonious meal of the day and we marched
out of the parlor into the dining room ad
joining, each lady on the arm of a gentle
man, the precedence being given to the pair
of highest social rank or greatest age. At
each plate was a tiny bouquet, tied with
blue, and a pin in the ribbon with which to
fasten it on. In the center of the table ap
peared a fine roast turkey, flanked by sev
eral bottles of wine, brandy, beer and
chiche, the latter a native beverage made
from fermented corn and supposed to be
very strengthening.
THE MEAL OF THE DAT.
The first course was soup, colored yellow
oy some mysterious process and extremely
greasy. Then the lady of the house carved
the turkey, a slice of which was put on each
plate, together with two potatoes, a lamp of
cornmeal pudding, a bit of roast mutton and
some aguacate salad. When this had been
cleared away we were served with another
kind of soup, called masamora, which
seemed to contain a little of everything.
Then came a dulce, or sweetmeat, of corn
meal well sugared, on the top of which ap
peared in white letters the name of the
house, "Juratena." Afterward cheese was
served with arepa cake; then chiche, in
large mugs, a villainous drink that does not
intoxicate, but stupefies; then hnse dishes
of oranges, bananas and granadillas, fol
lowed by glasses of water; and lastly coffee,
with cigarettes ;or all who desired them.
About 8 P. M. a third meal was served,
consisting of tea, coffee, chocolate, or bread
and milk, as each preferred. The sala, or
parlor, is a long, high apartment.showing the
clean straw thatch overhead. Its brick floor
is partially covered with straw mats and its
wide windows, with their shutters of solied
wood like the doors ot a barn, are draped
with lace curtains. There are some wonder
fully carved ebony tables, with mirrors in
the bottom, brought from France; claw
footed chairs and sofas, upholstered with
crimson brocade; chromos on tbe plastered
walls, bad enouirh to set one's teeth on edge;
a beautiful crystal chandelier (never used)
suspended from an unpainted beam by tiro
common iron pot hooks linked together; a
magnificent German piano and half a dozen
"tipleys," guitars and other musical instru
ments. In the midst of this queer conglomeration
we had music and dancing until the "wee
sma' hours," in course of which our kind
host and hostess she short, fat, black-eved
and good-natured, he tall, thin and very
dark performed the "banibuca," a native
dance, for our edification.
Fannie B. Ward.
When you go to New York stop at the Stur
tevant Honse, Twenty-ninth St. and Broad
way, the most central location In tbe cltv.
American and European plan. Booms trom f 1
np.
Threshing in Colombia.
WSm 1 m
Ko3k jS&iHSiSwltlpI I (7 -WBITTEU- FOB THE DISPATCH
BY
AND
CHAPTER XXIL
WAITING FOE THE MASTER.
What then? Was Jesus of Nazareth
araid? Did he stay away Irom Bethany,
forsooth, lest he should be stoned? Did he
allow his chosen frieud to die, without even
the most ordinary services of friendship, be
cause he himself was not ready to run sacred
risks? Or, wary, as pretenders are, did he
remove himself lest the weakness of his
claim should be exposed by this conclusive
test? For whatever reason, did he not dare
to show himself among the friends, now the
mourners of Lazarus?
"He is a shrewd fellow," cried Malachi
the Pharisee, making the most of his op
portunity again to command the ears of his
neighbors, and these, alas, the fickle people
easily gave him. "This upstart i3 no fool.
He estimates the intelligence of the citizens
of Bethany correctly. He knows that we
are not to be duped for our pains. How
now ! If this Jesus is what ye have be
lieved him, could he not save his intimate
friend from an untimely death? Would he
not, if so be he could do the deed? People
LAZARUS, COME
of Bethany I People of Jerusalem and the
neighborhood ! I appeal to ye I was I not
correct in the value I put upon this coward
ly and deceitful fellow?"
At this moment there passed by the group
a man and a woman, whose laces were
turned in the direction of Simon the Leper's
house. These were Ariella and Baruch,
happy man and wife, on their way to sorrow
with the sufferers in the bereaved house.
Their faces wore the subdued and gentle
sadness of sympathy, but the rich personal
joy of health, ireedom. and youth and wed
lock burned through their veil of neigh
borly feeling like the sun blazing through
a mist. It was like looking upon souls in
Paradise to look upon those two.
"There," retorted Amos of Gethsemane,
turning upon Malachi with curling lips,
"there you have your answer. Look to it!"
"But how say you," cried another con
temptuous voice, "that tbe Nazarene has al
lowed his friend to die like any common
neglected roan?"
"His will I know not," answered Amos
solemnly. "But I know that it is the will
of a wise and holy man. More I need not
know."
"Verily, thou art easily satisfied," laughed
someone scornfully. At this moment Enoch,
the lad who was sent to guide blind Baruch,
ran up to the gossiping group with exciting
news.
It was reported that the Nazarene had
been seen that morning approaching Beth
any.
Now this was the fourth day since the
death, the third since tbe burial of Lazarus.
Within the house of Simon the Leper the
first spasm nf grief had subsided into the
first alternative of quiet exhaustion.
Martha's pale and saddened face, sub
dued by a new gentleness, bent over the di
rection of the mid-day meal with a conscious
effort to estrange her thoughts from her sor
row. It seemed to Martha that if she could
once stir up a stupid maid to provide for the
mourners decently she should leel better.
But Mary sat in trie darkened room where
her darling had died. Her face buried in
her hands, lay ucon the sacred bed whence
they had carried him to his tomb. She
lay'upon the hard floor. Her long fair hair
fell about the crouching figure. Tbe case
ment was closed. Light came in through
tbe cracks in thin, radiant lines, on which
the motes of dust danced like little spirits.
Mary watched them pow and then dully.
She had ceased to weep. She felt a physi
cal coldness at her heart which made her
understand what men meant when they
said, "My heart is turning to stone." She
repeated to herself, "Lazarus is dead."
Suddenly there was a stir iu the silent
house. Voices started and hushed. Foot
steps fell and ceased. Something had hap
pened below. But what then ? Nothing
could happen now that mattered any more.
Mary did not raise her head to listen. Then
Martha entered tbe room. She hnrried, but
she trod softly. She came up and pat her
wM j uth0T of
Yzizmm&m
WmZml-A
ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS,
The Gates Jjar,"
Gates," Etc.,
"Beyond thl
THE REV. HERBERT D. WARD.
The Concluding Chapters.
hand on Mary's hair with the motherly
gesture of an elder sister.
"Mary, arise thee. Abraham bringeth us
great news. The Master cometh from Jeri
cho, and is already on his way to Bethany.
Arise, thee, and come with me, that we may
meet him."
But Mary burst into terrible sobs and
shook her head. With her hands she mo
tioned her sister away. She and Martha
were different Martha could meet him
among all those people on the highway.
Marv was not like that. Mary sat still in
the house. For the moment was it possible
that a doubt her first shot through her
tender heart? Did she, too, question Why
cometh he too-late?
Now, when Mary wa3 left alone, the cur
tains ot her room were gently parted, and a
step like a breath entered. None but one
rehned by the personal knowledge of tha
suffering could have spoken with the voice
which said:
"Fear me not, Mary. I intrude upon
thee not, save lor the space of a moment.
It is thy neighbor Ariella."
Mary stretched out her hand and grasped
that of Ariella strongly. She did not raise
her face. An indefinable comfort flowed
from the touch of Ariella into her own ex-
forth. (After Dore.)
hausted nature. How delicate a hand it
was, how reserved, how tender !
"I come upon an errand of importance,"
began Ariell i in a steady tone, as if nothing
had happened. Ariella did not talk of
Lazarus. She pioceedcd at once, for she did
not sit down, nor have about her the air of a
person who meant to remain for a call of
condolence. "I must consult either Martha
or thyself upon a certain matter."
"Martha has gone forth," said Mary,
evasively, still without looking up.
"She goeth to the grave to weep there,"
replied Ariella. "The neighbors told me
thus as I passed in at the door." Mary
made no reply. She did not care to discuss
the trne nature of Martha's errand. Ariella,
perceiving this reserve, hastened to say:
"A fugitive hath sought refuse with n.
I at the house of my mother and Baruch, ray
nusoand. .Last mgnt sne came unto us nice
a hunted animal panting from the hunter,
and we received her, and did shelter her,
for we knew not what else to do unto the
miserable creature. She fleeth from the
palace."
"From the palace! Of Annas?" Mary
lifted her hand suddenly.
"She is a slave of Annas, the High
Priest," replied Ariella, observing Mary
with gentle keenness.
"Oh! A slave!" Mary's face fell wearily
again.
"She telleth a strange story," continued
Ariella in alow tone, "and she hath suffered
unto death. Knowest thou, Mary, nuzht
to advise me concerning the poor soul? Shall
we shelter her?"
"Shelter her?" said Mary with sudden in
terest and earnestness. "Yea, shelter her,
Ariella! Shelter any woman who fleeth to
tbee from the palace in the name of misery,
and ot mercy."
"Shall I do it in another name?" asked
Ariella breathlessly. "Trust me, Mary. It
did befall Baruch to hear strange things oa
tbe night when the calamity began. Baruch,
said unto me: Shelter her "in the name of
the dead."
"Do it then, and God be with thee!"
whispered Mary. The two women clasped
hands, and without further words Ariella
glided away. Mary's heavy head fell down
again upon the bedside. She cared not for
this fugitive. What did it matter? What
was the life of a slave? Lazarus was dead.
But Lazarus might care. Whoever she wa
this Zahara she and her plotting serv
ants, who had cost the life too precious to be
set in the same balance with the inmates of
a hundred palaces Lazarus had asked it.
Lazirns had said: "Love and shelter."
Hours passed. Mary sat on in the dark
and dreary room. She had the tempera
ment which does not, because it cannot, con
quer grief by action. All her strength,
must come through reflection and religious
faith. She must think herself and pray
herself, not work herself into peace. Tha
worker and the dreamer are always at odds,
and Martha and Mary could no more under