University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I
THE BEGINNING OF THE TRAIL

I HAD made the acquaintance of D. Enrique Domingo Córdovez, known among his friends as "the Count," at Union College, Schenectady, N. Y., in the year 1890. He was one among the many rich young South Americans who come to the United States to take advanced courses at the universities, chiefly in the field of engineering. The son of a wealthy Ecuadorian, he was actuated by a very real desire to return to his native land equipped with the technical knowledge which would enable him to install in its primitive towns some of the many modern conveniences which were sadly lacking. And so it came about that his serious nature and his real love of his work enabled him to graduate with honours as a civil engineer.

My activities as one of the chiefs of the "Theta Nu Epsilon" led to my "graduating" two years ahead of my class. Well do I remember how the whole of my classmates hauled me down to the station in the College farm wagon on the day of my departure, having refused to work on so memorable an occasion. But although the "Count" did not graduate at the same time as I did, our two years together as members of the same fraternity had sufficed to form a lasting friendship between us. Furthermore, the long descriptions of the backwardness of his country which he had given me from time to time, had fired me with a determination

to go there one day and equip the City of Quito with some much-needed modern improvements. In those days, the streets of the capital of Ecuador were lighted by means of candles placed by householders in their front windows.

So I kept in touch with Córdovez after I left College, and later he came to see me at my house in Elmira, N. Y. There we finally decided that I would go down to Ecuador as soon as he had had a chance of examining the business possibilities of our proposed ventures, for which he was to find the money and obtain the concessions on arrival home. Then he left the States.

Thus it came about that in October, 1894, I received the following letter asking me to confirm our agreement.

You cannot imagine how glad I was to receive your letter. As I was in Riobamba at the time it had reached this place, it did not come to my hands but some days after.

Well, you are an electrical engineer now, are you? I thought you still were engaged in the canning business over in Chicago, so I must confess I was surprised when I read your letter proposing all sorts of electrical business....,

Now I must let you know that life in the forests is not very enjoyable and has a number of unpleasant things that are in connection with it. No society is to be found there, no such amusements as shows and the like either, and one can only be there to work, and if one is enterprising and hard-working it is a sure thing to get a good remuneration after a time.

This country is composed of very indolent people, and I can assure you that though there are no possibilities of making the fabulous fortunes that are made in the States, yet it is much easier here than there to make a handsome capital. The country is backward, very backward, and there is an opening in almost every line. As I told you when in the States, the climate of the interior is extremely pleasant and healthy, whilst that of Guayaquil is unhealthy to most people, however I have been in perfect health in both....

It is now your turn to decide. If you decide to come, it is better to do so immediately, before Winter begins. Let me know at once the date of your arrival in Guayaquil, and I will arrange so that you will have no difficulties when you get there.

It did not take me long to come to a decision. Stanley's "Through the Dark Continent" had inspired me as a boy with a determination to go off into the Unknown World which lies beyond the confines of civilization, offering a life brimful of adventure to him who would penetrate its depths. Adventure! That was the keynote of my life, the note to which my youthful, untamed spirit vibrated in sympathy. Here was my chance, then. To South America, with its vast tracts of unexplored territory, holding Heaven knows what strange secrets, I would go.

On November 18th, 1894, I sailed from New York in the S.S. Advance, of the old Ward Line, bound for Panama, via Colon, with $100 in my pocket. In ten days we made the Colombian port, after a voyage which was, I suppose, as uneventful as any other, but which was, for me, a great adventure. I was on my way to my goal.

Colon struck me as being a town of turkey-buzzards and niggers. Both turned out in large numbers to watch the arrival of the S.S. Advance. I had not much of a chance to see the town, a mere collection of thatched roofs grouped round the wooden wharves, half-hidden by the palms and banana plants which grow in profusion. Situated in the middle of a swamp, with muddy lanes for streets, and buzzards in place of sewers, it was a wholly unattractive place.

I boarded a train on the landing-pier, and was taken

across the Isthmus in about two and a half hours, passing a series of small country towns much the same as Colon itself, and having frequent glimpses of the old De Lesseps Canal. The abandoned machinery still lay where it had been left by the French, rotting in the mud and water, tropical growth sprouting from the stacks of the steam-shovels, their great boilers half hidden in the tangled mass of rank weeds. It was a dismal spectacle.

Arrived at Panama, I wrote home on December 12th, 1894, from the Grand Hotel, the only one the town boasted. It described itself on its letter paper as "Situated in the Parque de Santa Ana, the most central point of the city, and at the same time the healthiest; a first-class restaurant; splendid bedrooms for travellers and transients; cup-and-ball room."

In reality, dirt, bugs, and an absolute disregard for the decencies of life as we understand them were the outstanding features of that hotel. The sanitary arrangements were primitive in the extreme. The "splendid bedrooms" to which the letter-paper gave witness were so teeming with vermin that no proper impression of the state of things can be conveyed. I was not aware at the time whether it was the custom to mow the grass and weeds before showing a guest to his room, but at any rate the proprietor of that hotel neglected to do so. The verdure was growing between the floor-boards to the height of at least a foot when I took possession of my room. I did a little weeding before bringing in my steamer trunk, and depositing it in the clearing which I had made, that night I slept on it, escaping the crawling creatures which lived in the bed, and which would have had to risk being lost in the forest on the floor in order to reach me. The mosquitoes, however, were appalling.

Mr. Soresby, the American consul, was very kind to me, and gave me a good deal of friendly advice for which I was very grateful. Many were the traps awaiting the young, unwary traveller from the North. On my second evening in the town, he took me out to see the places of amusement, demonstrating among other things his skill at the wheel of fortune. In a very few minutes he broke the bank for twenty thousand Colombian pesos. To the proprietor, who came and begged him to lend him half the money to re-start the wheel, he put a leading question:

"Would you," he asked, "have given me back half my money if I had lost a fortune to you?"

Next day I was glad enough to board the S.S. Santiago of the Pacific Mail Line, and see the last of Panama as we sailed for Guayaquil. After forty-eight hours' sailing, we arrived at our destination.

There were two outstanding features of the chief port of Ecuador which, I think, deserve mention; the sewage system, and the "Admiral." Mr. Dillard, the American consul, described to me the former as I was not staying long enough in the town to see it for myself, due to the prevalence of yellow fever and bubonic plague, and introduced me to the latter.

The refuse of all kinds, instead of being carried away in drains, was thrown out of the upper windows of the houses on to the roofs of passing tram-cars which were surrounded by a special boarding a foot high. A fair proportion hit its mark. When the car arrived at the outskirts of the town, the deck-cargo was dumped by the conductor. A leak in the roof of one of those cars must have been a serious matter. This system must be unique in all the world.

We met the "Admiral" in a tavern, from which he had just ejected everyone else with the aid of a table-leg

which he still grasped when we entered. His name was Brown, and he was from Pittsburg. He was the navigating officer, chief gunner, and engineer of the Ecuadorian fleet, which was lying at that moment under repair in the harbour of Guayaquil. The fleet was composed of a couple of gun-boats, known to the English-speaking residents as the Espere un poco and the Pasada mañana.

From Guayaquil I went up the Guayas, a tidal river, to Bodegas, the greatest cacao-collecting station in the world. It lies about eighty miles from the port of Guayaquil. Never have I seen such enormous numbers of alligators as those which lived along that river. The water seemed to be composed of mud and alligators. The mud-bars were almost eclipsed by them. We ran over them and into them all the time.

Thus it happened that just two and a half years from the day on which I had been driven in state to Schenectady station, I was met by my friend Córdovez on the wharf of Bodegas.

And so began my seven years wanderings in South America.