r MR. PICKARD’S EXPERIENCE
'v
t»> <
r ifflN THE Trail of a Bold
S> w Buccaneer,” published
”■ herewith for the first time, is a
i*■ bit of Venezuelan history which
has never before ben told and
5. is not to be found in any of the
standard historical works on
Z Venezuela. It is replete with
thrifling situations embodied in
§> the capture of Caracas by Amo- <
£ ry Preston’s buccaneers. While
<• the bandits were stealing along
■;' the secret mountain path to ‘
k Caracas, the able-bodied inhabi
£ tants of the city took positions ;
'• of defense along the main thor- •
oughfare to the capital of Vene- s
zuela. The desperadoes were
discovered by an infirm old man
<• who attempted to resist their
<;> invasion with true patriotic in- <
^ stinct. It was easy to overpow
er him. The Caracas traitor
'f who guided Preston over the se
X cret path was hanged before
the city was entered. Once in C
Z swav.
While in Caracas, visiting Cipriano Castro, who was then pres
ident of Venezuela, it was Mr. Pickard’s good fortune to meet men
who were familiar with this unrecorded invasion. Mr. Pickard was
<•■ giver, permission to make the journey over the secret pathway. He
JJ took photographs of the smugglers then inhabiting the mountain
T wilds- These photographs are reproduced herewith. These same
smugglers to-day hold forth in the mountains. Smugglers, by prey
ing upon the Venezuelan government, caused the rupture between
•In Holland and Venezuela, which trouble is said to have been the
cause of the flight of Castro and his subsequent expulsion from
.. most ports on this side of the world in the southern hemisphere.
.
* •
$
A
z
(RAIL over the mountains to Caracas?” sr.id the dusky, scanti
ly clad women who were energetically doing the family wash
ing in the brawling stream above Maeuto. ‘ Oh, yes, that is
by way of La Guayra. There is no longer a direct path from
here, but we have heard of the trail of the buccaneers.”
“Direct to Caracas over the mountains?” said the little
old keeper of the sea-baths, who has buried six wives and
declares he is looking for the seventh. “Certainly there is
such a route, but it isn’t much used now, and you are sure
to lose your way.”
“Why, of course,” cried Don Antonio, our host of the Casino
de Maeuto. “It is easily done, but you had better take a guide
as far as the top. Here's Agapito, he will do. How much will you charge
the senors, Agapito?”
“Five dollars,” promptly replied the young peon. A general burst of
laughter reduced his price to $2.00, and the bargain was struck.
At fe ; o’c,''ek nr mo ng we ha 1 a cup of coffee, packed our luggagh,
c ns stir • of > ; pi t > b. a.id s , i forth in the wake of Agapito.
PreUy li.ile Maeuto. aer bead in th„ i .p of the mountain and her feet
laved by the surf, lay deep in slumber, but the lights of a score of fishing
boats twinkled on the sea. The town once was a favorite resort of the
well-to-do people of Caracas, but now counts her guesfs by the dozen, for
she never has recovered from the destruction and terror caused by the earth
quake of 1899. *
Our guide’s course at the start seemed so hap-hazard that the doctor
inquired somewhat anxiously if he was familiar with the route.
“Yes, indeed,” was the reply. "I spent seven months on this mountain
not long ago as one of the'revolutionists led by Gen. Matos, so I know all
its trails.”
So we scrambled on in the darkness unprotesting. Above us loomed the
mighty bulk of El Picacho, forming, with his brother peak to the east La
Silla, and the connecting heights, the range of Galipan over which we must
pass. The path was rough and steep and twisting—“used only by the
goats,” said I.
“I am one.” replied the doctor, grimly.
Half an hour of clambering and we struck a better defined trail.
“This is the path taken by donkeys.” explained Agapito.
“I am one of those, also.” muttered the Medicine Man. “And to think
that Arnory Preston led a band of armored and armed men by this trail
to Caracas in the night! If I only had breath enough I’d tell you about it,
but wait until we reach a resting place.”
Higher and higher by devious ways we went and gradually the stars
faded out,, the bright-hued birds began to whistle and sing all about us and the
richness of the tropical foliage through which we were pushing was revealed.
Then a shaft of sunlight found its way through a cleft in the mountain
range and struck El Picacho full on his rocky head. Facing about on a
projecting corner of the path, we had spread before us the vast panorama of
Caribbean sea and Venezuelan shore line. Still the lights of the fishing
boats twinkled faintly and hundreds of pelicans were busily gatiiering their
share of the spoil of the waters. Skimming ever the waves, they would
wheel suddenly, poise themselves, straighten out and descend like a falling
arrow, then settle' on the surface and calmly glup down the unfortunate
fish, that seldom escaped the swift plunge.
We were still sheltered from the sun’s rays, the breeze was cool and
Agapito moved at a leisurely gait, but our hearts pumped hard and our
knees became wobbly. By ten o'clock the spurts of climbing were shorter
than the periods of rest and even an army cf ants crossing the trail v.ras
excuse enough for ten minutes of relaxation. At a hut perched on a jut
ting rock we encountered an aged peon leading a goat, and there ensued
an animated discussion of the routes, between Agapito. Nanny’s master and
the mistress of the house. As a result our guide swerved far to the west
down through a beautiful ravine, seemingly undoing the climbing of an
hour, and again upward on what was supposed to be a better trail. Nanny
and her owner followed, but the little beast looked so disgusted with our
slow progress that we let her pass ahead, and saw her no more.
Passing through the tiny village of San Jose with its garden patches
terraced on steep hillsides, we caught sight of a white house that seemed
to be at the top of things, so far as our route was concerned.
“Yes,” said Agapito, en
couragingly, “that is the
end of the climbing. An
other range of hills cuts
off the view of Caracas
from there, but the way
is all dov.n hill”
So we robbed a lo:
orange tree and sci.tui
bled on with renewed
vigor.
That white house, when
we did reach it, was a joy.
Only a rambling conglom
eration of adobe rooms
and courts, swarming
with Indian men, women
and children, it was a ha
ven of rest for our wear
ied bodies.
“We want some cool
drink quickly,” said the
doctor.
“Beer, brandy or wine?”
asked the swarthy, hand
some young matron, u'ho
seemed to be the head
of the establishment.
“Beer.”
“I'm sorry, but we have
no beer to-day.”
“Then some brandy in
water.”
‘ Not a drop of brandy left in the house. But we can
serve you with line Muscatel.”
So Muscatel it was perforce, and surprisingly good,
too. A full quart soon vanished, and the doctor nearly fell
over a thousand-foot precipice in the front yard when the
price was named — three reals, or 30 cents American. That
confirmed the suspicions that had been rising in our
minds. The place must be a nest of smugglers, and it
took on an added air of romance. We must needs photo
graph all the inhabitants, from the lanky youth with the
ancient muzzle-loading shotgun to the naked babies and
uie mournrui donkey, and then sought out a shady spot
where the doctor might relate the tale of Arnory Preston’s remarkable feat.
It was in June, 1595,” he began. “The English were doing unpleasant
things to the Spanish wherever they could find them, on sea or land, and
Preston was running about the Caribbean with several vessels and some GOO
bold buccaneers. Approaching La Guayra, it occurred to him that there must
be considerable plunder on Caracas if only he could get to it. So he landed,
chased the inhabitants of La Guayra up into the mountains and moved along
to Guaicamaento. There he caught a Spaniard, Villalpando by name, who
promised, for a bag of gold, to lead the English over the mountains to Cara
cas by the shortest trail. The difficult climb was made in the night, over this
route we are traveling, and in the early dawn the buccaneers saw their
prize lying below them in its fair valley. Not needing the further services
S7JGr.£.T /A/ SISiCUTO
of Villa! pando, Preston naa
him hanged to a tree as a
warning to traitors, the bag
of gold for which he had sold
his city being tied to his feet.
“Certain of the people of La
Guayra had warned Caracas
of the landing of the English
men. and the entire fighting
force of the city, led by the
Alcaldes, Garcia Gonzalez and
Francisco Reballedo. marched
out to meet the foe. But it.
was taken for granted the
buccaneers would cross by the
“royal road,” which was com
paratively easy, so the Span
iards stationed themselves on
that highway, laying several
cleverly placed ambushes.
Meanwhile Preston and his
men had quietly walked into
the city, without opposition.
No. that isn't quite true, for
Don Alonso Andres de Ledes
ma had been left behind on
account of his advanced age.
Desperate, hut undismayed, the
gallant old cavalier donned
his armor, mounted his horse,
"ouched hie iance and «ing!c
hn c.v.J disputed the e.i in
of the English into the city.
'Don't hurt him,’ cried Pres
ton. ‘He’s too brave to die.'
But Don Alonso charged the
five hundred and fell mortally
wounded.
“Preston looted the city
thoroughly and the Spaniards
returned to find him safely
fortified in some of their pub
lic buildings. A week later
he marched out unmolested,
recrossed the mountains and
set sail with all the treasure
of Caracas. The name of Don
Alonso de Ledesma is still
honored by the few remaining
ancient Spanish families in
Venezuela, but there is no
statue of him in Caracas.”
Rested and refreshed, we re
sumed the trail and now came
our great disappointment.
Agapito's memory had played
him false, and the mountain
range that still rose hundreds
of feet in front of us must be
crossed before the descent be
gan. We wailed bitterly, but
toiled on through a dense jun
gle of tall trees, thick shrub
bery and interlacing vines.
Just as the sun reached the
zenith we really came to the
top. some 5.000 feet above the
—« nn.l ntrorrl cliiip
^ssioeciMf'
#A/VC/f
sea, ana me aowuwaru
brought other sets of muscles into play. Soon there were hints of \istas
through the forest, and suddenly, as we rounded an enormous rock, all the
glorious valley of Caracas opened out before our dazzled eyes.
Pen nor camera can do justice to that magnificent sight. Miles of fail
garden land in varied shades of green, glistening streams, a great city with
white buildings roofed with red tiles and with grove-topped hills, lay two
thousand feet below us, all bathed in soft sunlight; and for a background
were the southern mountains with fleecy clouds drifting across their emerald
and brown slopes. We gazed long in silence, fancying with reason that from
that very point Preston and his buccaneers liad caught their first sight of
Caracas. The giant tree beneath which we stood might well be the one od
which the traitor guide was hanged.
Building Railroads of Sheepskins
By Capt. Ellis D. Mor son
l
AILROAD building is now the order of the
day in all countries, and though it seems
almost incredible, the Turk has caught the
railroad fever and is not only projecting,
but actually constructing, and has partly fin
ished, what will be one of the longest and
most important railroad lines in the old
world. Its object is to connect the political
capital of Islam with the holy places which
every Moslem is expected to visit at least
once during his lifetime. As the Moslems
number from 175,000,000 to 200.000,000, the
annual pilgrimage from all parts of the Mahommedan
world is of enormous proportions. That from India and
the east is provided for by steamship lines, but it is now
proposed by the Turkish government to offer special
inducements to its people in Asia Minor, Syria, Palestine
and even North Africa, to make the sacred pilgrimages
at their ease, by providing railroad transportation from
Constantinople to Mecca.
To comprehend the magnitude of the enterprise, it is
necessary to remember that old world distances are not
always understood in the new world. The scale of the
maps is usually much smaller, so we sometimes get the
idea that the United Stales is the largest country on the
earth, because it looks lhrgest on the map. A better
concepion of the Turkish undertaking will be gained
by the knowledge that, taking Constantinople as a cen
ter, Paris will be on the edge of a circle with a radius
of 3,000 kilometers (about 2,250 miles), while Mecca will
be 500 kilos beyond the edge of that circle. In other
words, te make the matter plainer, the distance from
Constantinople to Paris is about that from New York
'1T» iJTT
to Santa Fe, N. M., and from Constantinople to Mecca is
approximately that from New York to Prescott, Ariz.
The Turk, therefore, who has always been regarded as
slow going, must be conceded to have more industry
than generally goes to his credit. There Is, however,
behind the religious motive, a political end to be gained
The sultan is the nominal head of the Moslem world.
But as the holy places, Mecca, Medina and several oth
ers, are in a land far distant from the center of the em
pire's political influence, the ruling officials in those
cities have, for hundreds of years, been quasi-independ
ent, some have thrown off entirely the Turkish bond and
actually maintained their independence. Then, again,
pilgrims from Syria, who attempt to travel by the cara
van routes through Arabia, Petraea and along the Red
sea. ha-ve long been subject to pillage by the wandering
tribes of Bedouins. A railroad through this country with
fortified stations at short intervals, would bring all north
west Arabia under real, rather than nominal Turkish
control and restore to the sultan genuine authority as
“protectors of the holy places.”
The Turkish government is always harassed by its
creditors. The moment a piaster comes into the treas
ury, all the creditors make a grab for it, so the question
of financing the enterprise became one of prime import
ance. for no money, no road. In this dilemma the wily
Turk hit upon a happy expedient. The sultan issued
an irade commanding that every Moslem family which
sacrificed a sheep at the feast of Bairam should bring
in the skin to the nearest government official, andl thess
skins should be sold for the benefit of the road. As every
Turk does the sheep-killing act at Bairam, it was figured
out that after the officials had stolen all they could with
out detection there would still be 70,000.000 francs. In
addition, contributions would be made by the faithful,
and that finally the road itself, as construction pro
gressed, ought to bring in a revenue, increasing year by
year, and so, trusting to faith and sheep skins, the work
was begun. The porLion of the road thus far completed
is from Damascus to Medain Salih. From Constanti
nople the lines under construction run directly south
west to Aleppo, with side branches to Smyrna and An
gora. Near Aleppo a projected line will lead, by way
of Bagdad, to the Persian gulf. From Medain Salih the
road is under construction to Medina, while surveys have
been made from Medina to Mecca and the Red sea.
The route is to pass east of Jerusalem and the Dead
sea, on the high lands of Syria, Moab and northern Ara
bia. The engineering difficulties are serious, but by no
means insurmountable, and are not to be compared with
those of the Union Pacific. The Caifa line descends
from Deraa with a mighty sweep down to the sea, while
the chains of mountains in Moab mast be traversed by
the aid of loops, tiWDels and bridges. At Damascus the
level is 2,000 feet above the sea, and varies from that to
3,000 feet at the highest point south. Great difficulties
are presented by that portion of the line from Constan
tinople to Damascus, for the giant ranges from the Cau
causus and Armenia extend thVough Asia Minor almost
to the Aegean and Mediterranean. So it is believed that
at some points on this part of the line the roadbed will
rise to a height of 3,000 to 4,000 feet above the sea.
Several hundreds of miles of this part are now actually
under soastruction. tunnels are bored, viaducts and
bridges are run between important towns. There are
now completed lines from Constantinople to Angora,
from Smyrna far into the vilayet of Konreh, and these
portions will be feeders of the main line. Work on the
line is greatly expedited by the labors of a division of
the Turkish army, it being difficult to secure labor in
the country to be traversed, particularly in northern
Anabia, where the Bedouins are few and unendurably
lazy. The Turkish scfldiers themselves are not particu
larly energetic, but, strange to say, this service is much
desired, not only from the fact that the soldier-workmen
are actually paid, which most of the Turkish army is
not, but their term of military service is reduced one
third. to say nothing of spiritual advantages promised by
the sultan. German and French engineers do the plan
ning, foreign workmen are engaged for the bridges, tun
nels and viaducts, while the soldiers are employed for
the mechanical labor. The management is ostensibly in
the hands of several boards composed of pashas, beys
and cabinet ministers, who meet in Constantinople and
so far as can he learned, do nothing but object to every
report made by the engineers and suggest tunnels when
the line could as well follow the caravan route, which
has been in use for a thousand years.
HIT CEILING AND BE A DIVA.
j Madame began: “The most tedious phase of the
i course in voice culture is learning to breathe. I shah
' test you now, free of charge, and, if you do well, w«
may be able to shorten that portion.”
Hope leaped into the Young Girl's eyes.
"I took lessons in that out home,” she seplied.
But madarne sniffed. ‘
“Lie down.” The Young Girl was startled; she even
ventured to hesitate.
“Yes, yes. On your back. It is my own method and
has been indorsed by the most eminent throat and lung
specialists. So. Relax your muscles. Now.” Madam<
seized a bit of white paper from the piano and tors
it into strips, one of which she handed to the Young
Girl. “Chew tfis,”*she said, “until you have made il
into just such a spitball as you used to make in school
Then fill your lungs to their greatest capacity, form
your lips as if to whistle and, with all your strength,
blow ceilingward.”
Visibly startled, but visibly still more impressed
the Yeung Girl did as ah^was bidden and blew the spit
ball about six feet into the air.
Madame nodded approval. “Not at all bad.” she con
ceded. “I think we can materially curtail this portion
of the course.”
The Young Girl was scrambling to her feet.
“When—when will it be completed?” she asked.
“Just as soon as you can hit the ceiling,” said madame
■
THE SAME TOUCH OF NATURE
People of To-Day and Moslem Con
queror of Old Show Themselves
Alike in One Respect.
Freight car No. 16,656 of the Penn
sylvania railroad was held empty on
a side track waiting until Mrs. Rob
in Redbreast completed the hatching
out of a fine nestful of eggs laid on
a journal box while the car was In
New York.
Touching, but no novelty. When
mighty Auir’ and his Moslem hosts
overthrew Egypt and made all north
ern Africa a stronghold of Allah and
liis prophet, they camped on the east
bank of the Nile, opposite the ancient
capital, Memphis, until they had
licked the defenders of that ten-miles
wide and twenty-miles-long ci#y.
When Amr' had finished he thought
of moving into the fine town across
the river, for whi^h the pale shades
of tlvS?*slaughtered Egyptians had no
further use. But in the interval a dove
had built its nest in the peak of his
great tent.
Moslems are kindly to animals,
which are beyond the possibility of
being converted to Islam by the
sword. Amr’ allowed that it would be
I a pity to disturb the dove; he de
layed; meanwhile a new city gradu
ally grew up on the bare plain to the
north of his tent. In a word, Cairo
rose out of the desert for the amaze
raent of after ages, while tne Mem
phian palaces of sun-dried bricks went
back into the soil. To this day in
South Cairo they will show you the
original Fostat, the “place of the
dove."—New York World.
Proverbs.
I do not say a proverb is amiss
when aptly and seasonably applied;
but to be forever discharging them,
right or wrong, hit or miss, renders
conversation insipid and vulgar.
Cervantes.
Our Languages.
What a lot of languages we talk,
even if we talk only English! 1 was
assailed by a man across the luncheon
table with a language about a Cup
tie final, and confessed that it was
quite untotelligible. Then another
man talked about golf, which is an
other language. And then the wom
an’s language elbows these columns.
-The Countess-wore a seagreen
white marabout stole, and a black taf
feta bow garnished her huge hat ol
burnt Tagel straw.” It is a fine exam
pie of women s slang. But to the man
It means nothing—but expense—Loa
don Outlook. .
Natural History as She Is Spoke.
Doris lived in the city, and a sum
, m«r visit to grandpa's farm revealed
! many wonders. After being treated tc
the farmer’s luxury, cream, she was
flowed to go to the barn to see the
cows milked. She looked on with
much interest for a while and ther
asked: “Grandpa, which is. the little
pocket she keeps fehe cream In?”—
The Delineator.
Levi P. Morton Dean of Living
Ex-Vice-Presidents.
Hss Just Celebrated Eighty-Fifth B rth
day, and Is Still Hale and Hearty
—Accumulated Fortune in
Banking Business.
New York.—Still fresh and vigorous
in mind and sound in body, Levi p
Morton, the oldest living vice-presi
dent of the United States, recently cel
ebrated his eighty-fifth birthday aim:
versary. Bes.ies Mr. Morton there
are now living only three other men
who have held the position of vice
president of the United States—Adlui
K. Stevenson, Theodore Roosevelt and
Charles VV. Fairbanks. Not only is
Mr. Morton by far the oldest among
his surviving colleagues, but, with one
exception, he has already attained a
greater age than any other former
vice-president. The only exception
was John Adams, the first vice-presi
dent of the United States, who died
in 1826 at the lge of 90 years.
While Mr. Stevenson has reached
the age of 74, the other two surviv
ing colleagues of Mr. Morton are
still comparatively young men, Mr.
Roosevelt being 51, Mr. Fairbanks
57 years old. Of his predecessors
who have joined the silent army
only John Adams lived to be older
than Mr. Morton is now. Thomas
Jefferson died at the age of 82. Han
nibal Hamlin at the age of 81 and
Aaron Burr at the age of 80. Th ■
latter holds the record in one respe :.
however, among the deceased form r
vice-presidents; he survived the end
of his term of office by 21 years, a
longer period than shows the record
of any other of the deceased former
holders of that office. Mr. Morton v. a.
have to live until he is 100 years old
to surpass Burr's record.
Levi P. Morton is a New Englander,
and the descendant of a family of cler
gymen. His family was founded in
I
Levi P. Morton.
America by Rev. George Morton, on1
of the conspicuous members of the
Pilgrim colony of England. He was
the financial agent of the Pilgrims and
raised and conserved the funds which
fitted out the expedition on the May
flower, although he was not a passen
ger on the initial voyage. He ar
rived in America in 1623. Levi P.
Morton may have inherited his tast»*
for finance from that treasurer of
the Pilgrim band
When at the age of 16 years he
saw no hope of realizing his ambi
tion to go to Dartmouth college. Levi
P. Morton entered a country store at
Enfield, Mass., where he worked un
til he has enough money to start a
modest establishment of his own, at
Hanover, N. H., in 1849, at the age of
25 he came to Boston and became a
partner in a small dry goods bouss
Five years later he went to New York,
where he joined a dry goods firm. He
failed a few years before the civil war.
but immediately started a banking
business, appreciating that the rebel
lion would mean a great demand for
financiers to handle the government
loans. Mr. Morton founded the bank
ing house of Merton, Bliss & Co. in
New York, and Morton. Rose & Co.
in London, and dealt largely la gov
ernment bonds. Just before the close
of the war, when he had accumulated
a fortune. Mr. Morton gave a dinner
to the creditors of his former dry
goods firm. Every one found under
his plate a check for the amount
still owing him with interest
Mr. Morton's first essay in politics
was in 1878, when he was elected to
congress from a New York district.
He might have been president if his
loyalty to the wishes of Senator Ros
coe Conkling had not made him re
fuse the nomination for vice-president
on the ticket headed by James A.
Garfield in 1880. President Garfield
made him minister to France in 1881.
and Mr. Morton, made a fine record
He was elected vice-president in 1883
on the ticket with President Harrison,
but was not nominated with the presi
dent in 1892. In 1894 he was made
governor of New York. Since his re
tirement from the governorship in
1896 Mr. Morton devoted himself to
the direction of his large financial in
terests and <x> extensive travels
abroad. While in this counrty he
spends most of his time in New York
or Washington.
Kitchen Repartee.
“W hat s the matter, old chap?"
queried the chowder. “You look trou
bled."
"Yes,” replied the oyster, "I'm in an
awful stew."
“And I believe I’m going to have a
chill," said the chowder. "I feel so
clammy."
Just the Color.
Jokesmith—-That’s a sarcastic ed
itor on that comic paper. I submit
ted some jokes written on gray paper.
Poet—Did he make any comment?
Jokesmith—Yes, he sasd they were
so old they were turning gray.
Local Color.
I Rink—They say that smoke-color ef
fects in young men’s suits this saason
originated in Paris.
That’s queer. I thought they
originated in Pittsburg.
