Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 129, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 June 1911 — Page 2

RIVALS GRANDEUR SWISLAKES by Eine Francis Tisdel

Edine Francis Tisdel

comparatively small space between Mexico and the Isthmus of Panama lies, as it were, the Land of Promise—a promise of wealth incalculable to the realm of commerce, through the cultivation and development of marvelously rich and fertile countries which are betng opened up with wonderful rapidity by the network of railroads that are spreading throughout the five beautiful republics of Central America. More than a land of promise to the archaeologist, who has here a vast Head for research wherein to unravel the mystery which surrounds the history of the ancient American civilization and throw some light upon the origin of the people whose wonderful works are evidenced in the ruins of prehistoric cities found hidden in dense tropical forests. A land of beautiful realities to even the ordinary tourist, who finds easily accessible a wealth of scenic beauty unsurpassed and a perfection of climate rarely equaled. This is particularly true of Guatemala, the most northern of the Central American republics and our nearest neighbor after Mexico. It is reached by a three days' delightful sail on the Gulf of Mexico and along the coast of British Honduras. The fine new ships of the United Fruit company give etery luxury and comfort of ocean travel, and Guatemala, in the very near future, will become the Mecca of those desiring to escape the cold and gloom of a northern winter. Nowhere In the world can be found more magnificent and varied scenery than that which greets the~traveler, especially in the lake regions of this lovely republic. Of the four larger lakes—Peten, lying far to the north; Yzabal, near the Atlantic coast; Amatitlan, on the Guatemala Central railroad not far from Guatemala City, and Atltlan, tucked away in the mountains near the Pacific coast—there Is small choice. Differing so widely, each In its way is perfect, characteristic of Its location and climate. Upon our arrival at Puerto Barrios we concluded to visit Lake Yzabal before going up to the City of Guatemala. After one night of rest, therefore, we boarded the little mail boat which carried ns out from the landlocked bay. a short distance across the Gulf of Amatique and along the shore line, where graceful palms stirred lazily In the perfumed breeze to Livingston. This town is picturesquely situated on a bluff at the mouth of the Rio Dulce, or Sweet river. A new hotel, with comfortable rooms and excellent cuisine, has lately been opened here, and a day or two may be well spent enjoying the many unusual scenes in this quaint little town. From the porch of the Hotel Rio Dulce we look down through a maze of palm trees across the thatched roofs of the town, to the sparkling waters of the bay, where the Caribs dart back and forth in graceful canoes. In a kneeling posture and with only the use of a paddle, they skim across the water with incredible speed. The air is heavy with the scent of jasmine and gardenias; the gleam of oranges and the tiny golden balls of the cnmquat meet the eye at every turn, and towering above all the great spreading branches of the wonderful breadfruit tree. Lake Yzabal lies about 60 miles inland and a regular line of steamers ply between Livingston and Pancoz, In the interior on the Polochic river. We did not, however, avail ourselves of this usual means of transportation, having had a launch placed at our disposal. For the first ten miles we followed the winding course of the Rio Dulce, the beauty of which is only comparable to that of the far-famed Saguenay. By some terrible convulsion of nature, the mountains have been rent asunder and through picturesque canyons and gorges this lovely river wends Its majestic course to the see. The shores gradually draw nearer together and we soon find ourselves shut in between towering wall* of green, rising to a height of 400 to 500 feet, with dense tropical vegetation and graceful overhanging vines lazily swaying in the breeze. Here the water seems to be motionless. its glassy surface reflecting in absolute perfection of detail each leaf and flower, and not a sound breaks the silence. The only signs of life are the hundreds of beantlful white Garza, the birds which furnish Dame Fashion with the much-desired and ever-expen-sive aigrette. We passed occasionally a native drifting downstream In his dugont, or pftpan, as these canoes are called—his cargo a bunch of bananas or a string of fish. The shores again receded and we entered the Gulf or Oolfete, a pretty body of water some ten miles in length and dotted with numerous islands. Another narrow channel and we finally entered the lake proper. A beautiful picture is before us—the lovely expanse of water with its wooded shores rising gradually to the ragged Sierras de las Minas, to the sooth, and the Santacruz mountains, to the north. Here stand the picturesque ruins of the old Spanish fort of San Felipe, built in 1625 by Hernando Cortez during his march from Mexico to Honduras and erected to protect lb* approach to the town of Yzabal. which M. /jSr, -- f UMiiMPr nni/Tlifi irTTaniir nt If- ■ x*.

ORED by the loveliness of Norway’s fiords and grown weary of the soft beauty of the Italian and the rugged grandeur of the Swiss lakes, the blase globe trot: ter turns in search of some new enchanted spot where the realization that ft is seen for the first time lends again some zest to life. The world is fast grasping the fact that in the

at that time was the principal port of entry. It is now of small importance, a sandbar having formed across the mouth of the Rio Dulce, which prevents vessels drawing over 16 feet of water from reaching this inland sea. Large brass cannon, bearing the date 1496, have been found scattered among the ruins of this old fortification. Neither pen nor brush can do justice to the wild beauty of the Polochic river, and those in search of new sensations can enjoy the unique experience of traveling in perfect safety through a tropical wilderness, where gayly colored parrots and inquisitive monkeys chatter at the intruder from overhanging branches, and crocodiles, with wide v open mouths, He basking in the snn. This Is the main route to the coast for thenatives of the Coban and Peten districts, who bring their produce in canoes down the river to Lake Yzabal and thus to the markets of Livingston. On the Polochic, near Panzos, Is situated the great rubber plantation of “Tinajas,” which covers 156,000 acres of land. It Is owned by the Guatemala Central railroad and is one of the most important and richest estates of its kind In Central America. In the northern part of the country lies the great lake of Peten, or San Andres, of which comparatively little is known, except to antiquarians. Situated In a wild, almost uninhabited part of the country, perhaps the richest in all Guatemala, It is difficult of access. This Immense body of fresh water, 27 miles long and having a shore line of 70 miles, is dotted with numerous islands. On the largest of these is the town of Flores, with about 15,000 Inhabitants. Near Flores are the ruins of a buried city, with stone images and monoUths covered with hieroglyphics, showing the unread history of a people which dwelt in the midst of this primeval forest ages ago. At Lake Amatitlan we find ourselves on s much visited lake. The borders of this lovely body of water. lying only 18 miles to the south of Guatemala City, are the playgrounds of the capital. For 16 miles along Us curved shore Une run the tracks of the Guatemala central railroad, which, particularly on Sundays and holidays, ca/ries many excursionists to the town of Amatitlan. the favorite resort of picnickers. Situated at an altitude of nearly 2,000 feet above the level of the sea, IS miles long and S miles wide, it is very deep and gives rise to a river, the Guastoya, which has its outlet in the Pacific ocean, IS miles south of the port of San Jose, where It is IS miles wide. At the station of Laguna we find a nice

for the baths. In cases of rheumatism some remarkable cures have been made. A curious phenomenon, which is a yearly occurrence, generally during the month of March, is an eruption which takes place at the bottom of the lake, and great quantities of sulphur rise to the surface of the water. This, for a time, is the death knell of the fish. At all other times, however, the sportsman can indulge in his favorite pastime to his heart’s content. The markets of Guatemala City are daily supplied from this lake, the Mojara, a small pan fish of fine flavor, being very plentiful. Pried to a crißp brown and piping hot, these are sold by Indian women at all the stations along the lake. Several attempts have been made to cultivate the spawn of Imported white flsh, but when grown to a good else the native fishes men practically exhausted the stock. Large pieces of pumice stone are found floating on the surface of the water and along the shore. In the boiling springs which abound Is done the laundry work of the city, the women taking advantage of this water heated by nature and ever ready for use. Groups of dark-skinned Indian women, in their gayly colored native costumes, kneeling by the deep blue waters amidst pilee of snowy linen, present a most attractive and fascinating picture. There is also a novelty about a picnic, when eggs can be cooked without trouble by merely dropping them into one of Mother Nature’s ever-boiling pots. It has been my good fortune to see many lakes in different parts of the world, but never have I seen one more exquisitely beautiful than the curious crater lake of Atltlan. incomparable for gfandeur of scenery and perfection of climate. In the southwestern part of Guatemala, some 35 miles from the railroad and at an altitude of 6,000 feet, nature seems, cm the borders of this silent body of water, to have reached the culmination of her handiwork. Discovered first by the Spaniards in 15*4, Alvarado was here victorious in a desperate battle with the natives, and, exploring the surrounding country, took possession in the name of Spain. In the very heart of the mountains we find this lake, SO miles in length and 10 miles in breadth. Although many streams empty their waters into it, there is no visible outlet and its depth is unknown, no soundings having been made with a line of more than SOO fathoms. it is impossible to describe the charm and witchery of this country, bathed* in moonlight, the sectary at each step becoming more 1m-

little hotel, with wide porches which overlook the rippling blue waters and from where We can look across to the rich green slope of the giant volcano, Agua, which rises in one magnificent, unbroken sweep to the height, of 13,000 feet. Behind it one catches a glimpse of the jagged crest of Fuego. Amatitlan presents much to interest the scientist. The waters are strongly impregnated with sulphur and iron, and many people come here

pressive. We forded rushing, tumbling mountain streams, looking like cascades of silver, and we rode through silent Indian villages, where the inhabitants were sleeping in front of their strange little bamboo huts. The only sound to break the silence was the plaintive call of the whippoorwill. We reached the village of San Lucas, on the borders of the lake, and there we found in readiness the little steamer which was to take us across to the hotel on the opposite shore, a trip of an hour and a half. Words are inadequate to portray the scene which was before us. The great expanse of water lay like molten silver in the moonlight, the mountains, sblemn and awe-inspiring, standing in serried ranks like giant sentinels to guard this treasure A soft, pearly mist hung over all, but' not so dense as to 'hide the perfect outline of the three great volcanoes—the tyo Atitlans and San Pedro. These stupendous giants rise to the height of nearly 12,000 feet and fall in one unbroken sweep to the water’s edge. In this peaceful spot the days slip by unheeded. The world and its busy life beyond the towering mountains is forgotten and we drift out upon a sea of romance and poetry. There are many delightful excursions to be made in the vicinity, eleven quaint Indian villages, named after the apostles, dotting the shores; considerable commerce is carried on between these towns .by means of canoes, and the steam launch makes the round of the lake regularly twice a week. The town of Atitlan is very picturesquely situated on a bay running inland between the two volcanoes —San Pedro and Atitlan. Not far away, snuggled close to the water’s edge at the foot of Atitlan, is the “Cerro del Oro”—Mountain of Gold —where a great treasure is believed by- the natives, to lie buried, and the ruins of an old fort can be vaguely discerned. Two thousand feet above the lake is the large town of Solola, capital of the province of the same name and a center of commerce. Here is obtained a fine view of the surrounding country, but by far the most beautiful is that from the height of Godinez We find ourselves at an altitude of 8,000 feet apd the whole world appears to lie before us. It is true we have not the snow peaks of Switzerland, but instead is the unusual spectacle of range after range of mountains on all sides, dominated by the majestic heads of great volcanoes, Beven in all, magnificent in their imposing grandeur and jealously guarding the beautiful lake, which, like a great sapphire, lies 3,000 feet below. The filmy veil of mist which is characteristic of this region during the greater part of the year occasionally melts away, and as we stood on this spot, speechless before the wonder of this panorama, it seemed for our benefit alone to have crept silently away !h the night, and earth and sky and water were perfectly revealed, outvying each other in deepest tones of blue. But even as we gazed soft clouds formed in the valleys below and crept stealthily up, writhing and twisting like great white snakes, until once more they had encircled the mountains like giant serpents whose power even the great hills could not withstand. Nature seemed to say that we had looked already too long upon her secret treasures, and softly but swiftly she again drew around them the gauzy mantle in which, except at rare intervals, she keeps them wrapped.

The Starling and the Organ

New York’s big new Cathedral of St John the Divine, on Mornlngslde Heights, already has a permanent tenant This la a starling, which apparently has settled in a shadowy niche high up above the organ, built a nest there and designs to rear a family. The starling lends a decidedly RngH«h touch to -the massive structure. From Its lofty perch It looks down curiously oq the assembled worshippers, as though they, not it, were the interlopers, as no doubt It feels they are. But when the organ is being the starling forgets Intrusion to join 'in the music. It swells its throat and starts out bravely to drown the thunder of the mighty instrument. Presently a look of perplexity steals across its countenance. It has found something against which its own shrill tones beat themselves into silence. And then it ceases its attempt at rivalry and surrenders itself to the pleasure of listening. It la a good listener. As long as the organ continues It remains attentive, confessing by Its attitude that betels something superior even to bird sons,

CHILD REAL HEROINE

NANNIE GIBSON’S BRAVERY} SAVED SOUTHERN EXPRESS. ! --;■ :; * *.. ••; v- jg&psmp#**^#*'* Record of Deed of Eleven-Year-Oldj Girl Deserves Place In Railroad j History—Education to Be Her Reward. Since early morning the storm had been lashing the mountains of North

Carolina, first in a sullen downpour that swelled streams and tore away small bridges, and afterward In devastating 'fury. In a little cottage that clang to the side oi a gap at Graphite, near Asheville, a

girl was cowering at the window, ane was all alone. Her parents were away on a visit and oould not return until the storm abated. . . i ’y Nannie Gibson, being only eleven} years old, was “skeered.” Below her; roared the river, now swollen to 4 mad torrent. Along its bank, pertt*' ously near, ran the tracks of the Southern railroad. ' Suddenly, writes John S. Lopes, in Harper’s Weekly, with a roar that rose above the storm, the side of the railroad cut tore loose and swept down, an avalanche of earth and rooks and trees, brushing aside- the tracks and leaving great! boulders piled in the rightof-way. the ehild watched it for a -moment, fascinated, half numb with terror. Then, borne down on the sweep of the storm, came the dull shriek of a locomotive whistle. That whistle heralded the coming of the Southern Express. Nannie Gibson was only an Ignorant mountain child, unable to read or write, but Intuition told her . what would happen if the train were allowed to run on unchecked. Red was a danger signal—Nannie knew that much; but where was she to get something that she could wave? She searched the poorly furnished cabin, hurriedly, but found nothing that would serve in the emergency. 4 Suddenly her eyes fell on a little dress hanging in the comer, carefully oovered with an old sheet. It was the child’s new Sunday dress that her mammy had given her a few weeks before, and was made of some cheap red material with white dots scat tered over Its surfaoe. She ran from the cabin to the raii-j road cut—ran madly, though thej stones bruised and cut her bare feet,; and the lightning flashed about her, and fallen trees barred her way. The only chance to save the on rushing train was to signal It at the'end cm the tunnel. She sped up the track!) waving the dress frantically. Suddenly the big engine thundered! out of the tunnel and bore down upon] the child. Peering from the side ofj his cab, the engineer saw her. There! was a roar of steam and the shriek os air-brakes ruthlessly applied, and thef heavy train came to a grinding, shuddering stop within a few feet of the child. : The startled passengers and the train crew found her sobbing beside the track. Of course *. they made much of her, plying her with questions and heaping praise npon her. “Weren’t you afraid?” asked one oi the grateful passengers. “O’ course I was,” replied the child, bashful under the attention she was receiving. “But I just had to stop yuh-all.’’ When the express finally resumed Its journey, most of the passengers carried lighter pocketbooks. Not that the child was interested in this. Just what was uppermost id her mind became manifest when one of the' passengers asked her if there - wasn’t something she could send for. Nannie wriggled her toes in the dirt, put her finger in her mouth, and finally mum-, bled, shamefacedly: "Well, maybe yuh-all could send met a new red dress, ’cause I done spoiled mine a-stoppln’ the train!” v 1 This is .the story of one child’s, heroism, and the railroad was properly grateful. Down to Graphite journeyed an official, it was hard for him to get her to tall him what she really desired most in the life that bis company could give her. But he finally; succeeded. And what do yon suppose it was? She wanted an education. Nannie got her wish and Is now studying hard In the Normal and Collegiate Institute at Nashville. .

Fast Trains In Europe.

Express speed in Great Britain and on the continent la high. In Great 1 Britain there are 11 daily express trains making runs of from SO to, 118% miles without a stop, whose average speed Is from SI to 59.1 miles an hour. The tasteat and longest noa* stop run la 235% miles, from Paddings ton to Plymouth, made at 544 mile* an hour. FTanoe has seven daily expresses that run from 77% miles toj 147% miles without a stop, at speedai of from SLI to 4LB miles an hoar, and! there are nine French trains that nmi from 10S to 147% miles without stop.; at speeds of from 10.4 to St.S miles an hour.—Belsntifle American.

From Louden Direct to Peking.

Soon It win be possible to travolj from London to Pekin in less than tea day* A branch of the greet Siberian railroad is to be continued through the famous Desert of Gobi to Peking. Thin will enable the traveler to go from London direct to the Chinese (Mattel In the short time mentioned, the only sea voyage being that across the Be* lish channel. *