[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and
italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
VASCO
Our Little Panama Cousin
THE
Little Cousin Series
(TRADE MARK)
Each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates in
tint. Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover,
per volume, 60 cents
LIST OF TITLES
BY MARY HAZELTON WADE
(unless otherwise indicated)
=Our Little African Cousin=
=Our Little Alaskan Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Arabian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Armenian Cousin=
=Our Little Australian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brazilian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brown Cousin=
=Our Little Canadian Cousin=
By Elizabeth R. MacDonald
=Our Little Chinese Cousin=
By Isaac Taylor Headland
=Our Little Cuban Cousin=
=Our Little Dutch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Egyptian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little English Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
=Our Little French Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little German Cousin=
=Our Little Greek Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Hindu Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Hungarian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Indian Cousin=
=Our Little Irish Cousin=
=Our Little Italian Cousin=
=Our Little Japanese Cousin=
=Our Little Jewish Cousin=
=Our Little Korean Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Mexican Cousin=
By Edward C. Butler
=Our Little Norwegian Cousin=
=Our Little Panama Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Persian Cousin=
By E. C. Shedd
=Our Little Philippine Cousin=
=Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
=Our Little Russian Cousin=
=Our Little Scotch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Siamese Cousin=
=Our Little Spanish Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Swedish Cousin=
By Claire M. Coburn
=Our Little Swiss Cousin=
=Our Little Turkish Cousin=
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building, Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: VASCO BARRETAS]
VASCO
Our Little Panama Cousin
By H. Lee M. Pike
_Author of "Our Little Korean Cousin," etc._
_Illustrated by_
L. J. Bridgman
[Illustration]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
Publishers
_Copyright, 1906_
BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
Fourth Impression, June, 1909
Fifth Impression, June, 1910
To My Mother
Preface
BOTH old and young are interested in the work that the United States
is doing on the narrow strip of land connecting North and South
America,--digging the Panama Canal, a highway for the nations. The
country is small, but the work is a great one, and that little spot on
the map is of vastly greater interest to-day than many a land of larger
area.
The history of the country is a romantic one. The names of Balboa,
Pizarro, and other famous Spanish discoverers are closely linked to
Panama, and readers of history as well as lovers of adventure are not
likely to forget the part the notorious Morgan and his men played on
the Isthmus.
There has been much of bloodshed, cruelty, and oppression in Panama's
history, but let us hope that is all over. The example of industry and
persistent perseverance set by Americans, as they cut away mountains
and turn great rivers into new channels, ought to be a source of
inspiration to the leisure-loving native. And such seems to be the fact
to-day. Not only a canal, but a nation, is being built. New schools,
new docks, new water-works, new streets, new sanitary measures, give
evidence of a better era for Panama.
This all means new possibilities for our little Panama cousin. As
his young American and English friends read about him, they may well
believe that in the days to come they may all stand shoulder to
shoulder in the onward march of civilization and progress.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. HAPPY DAYS 1
II. ABOUT THE CITY 19
III. A TRIP TO OLD PANAMA 26
IV. STORY OF THE BUCCANEERS 36
V. AN EARTHQUAKE 60
VI. A JOURNEY 71
VII. CULEBRA 81
VIII. BALBOA 90
IX. COLON 96
X. UP THE CHAGRES RIVER 102
XI. NEW AMBITION 115
List of Illustrations
PAGE
VASCO BARRETAS _Frontispiece_
LIEUTENANT AMADEO BARRETAS 4
A STREET IN PANAMA 22
THE TOWER OF THE OLD CATHEDRAL 55
"'THAT SCOOP WILL DIG OUT OF THE MOUNTAIN A TON
OF EARTH AT A TIME'" 80
A NATIVE VILLAGE 110
VASCO
Our Little Panama Cousin
CHAPTER I.
HAPPY DAYS
IN young Vasco Barretas, who had both Spanish and Indian blood in
his veins, there had been born a natural desire for excitement and
adventure.
Just one thing equalled this desire. That was his dislike for work.
However, we must not blame him for that. His laziness was the result
of training, or rather the lack of it. Necessities were few and easily
obtained, and he had not learned to care for the luxuries of life.
On account of Vasco's fondness for bustle and excitement the time this
story begins was most glorious for him. As his American cousin would
say, "something was doing."
A successful revolution had just taken place in Panama.
A revolution was no new thing in the little strip of country that
separates the Atlantic from the Pacific. Vasco's father had been
through many such affairs. They had been nearly as regular as the rainy
seasons.
Vasco did not understand all about it, yet even the boys in the streets
knew that this revolution was different from any other.
There had been no bloodshed, but the results seemed likely to be very
important to the country.
Do you want to know why?
Then listen to a little bit of history.
The State or Province of Panama, on the narrow bit of land connecting
North and South America, had been a part of the country called the
United States of Colombia.
The great republic to the north, the United States of America, wanted
to dig a canal across Panama, but had been unable to get permission
from Colombia. And so it looked as if there might be no canal--at least
not in Panama.
The citizens of Panama were disappointed, for the digging of a canal
through their country would bring to them many people and much wealth.
For this reason the leading men concluded that it was best to separate
from Colombia, organize a government of their own, and come to an
agreement with the United States. At the time this story opens the new
government had just been set up, and its authority proclaimed.
But, it may be asked, what has all this to do with Vasco?
To begin with, Vasco's father, in private life a very ordinary
citizen, who sometimes had been a waiter in a hotel and at other
times the servant of an American engineer, was deeply interested in
this latest revolution; for was he not an officer in the new National
Guard,--Lieutenant Amadeo Barretas?
[Illustration: LIEUTENANT AMADEO BARRETAS]
His position did not require much work, either of mind or body, but
little Lieutenant Barretas could assume as much dignity as a seven-foot
member of Napoleon's "Old Guard"--and more pomposity. When on parade he
would strut about in his gaudy uniform with all the airs possible, and
appear very serious--though to you he would have looked more silly than
serious.
There was to be a grand review of the Panama "army." The soldiers were
to parade through the streets of the city and be inspected by the
commander-in-chief. Several officers of the United States army were to
be guests of the Panama officials, and occupy a place on the reviewing
stand.
Young Vasco meant to have a good sight of the parade. Surely he, the
son of a lieutenant in the army, ought to have a place where he might
see his father march by, and be able to add his voice to the thousands
who would shout huzzas! But, for some reason, the officers in charge
had neglected to invite him.
Vasco's home was on a side street in the poorer section of the city, so
the soldiers would not pass by that place. How, then, could he get a
good view of the parade?
Of course he could stand at the side of the street; but what chance
would a small boy have in such a place as that?
Now Vasco was a boy of many resources, and it seemed to him that he
might make use of the good nature of a young American friend.
Harlan Webster was the son of an American engineer who was in charge of
work on the canal.
Mr. Webster had been for some time upon the Isthmus, and, unlike most
of the Americans at work on the canal, he had brought his family,
consisting of wife and son, to the city of Panama. They had now lived
here over a year. During that time Harlan had learned a good deal
about the country. He had also acquired some knowledge of Spanish, the
language of the natives. In fact, it was said of him by his Panama
friends that he could talk with the people more freely than many older
foreigners who had been longer in the country.
The American boy knew many Panama lads, among them Vasco. "Lieutenant"
Barretas, as he insisted on being called, had been in Mr. Webster's
service at various times, and the two boys had thus become quite
intimate and had taken many pleasure trips together.
Harlan was able to tell Vasco a good deal about Panama history. The
stories about the buccaneers of old times, about the raid on the city
of Panama, about Balboa and his adventures and discoveries, were more
familiar to the American lad than they were to the Panama boy.
On the other hand, Vasco could give his friend much information about
the every-day habits and customs of the people, and was able to take
him to many points of interest. When it came to excursions by water or
by land, Vasco was in his element. He could handle a boat with skill,
he could swim like a fish, and he knew the windings and curvings of all
the highways and byways of the city.
Straight to the hotel where the Webster family lived went Vasco this
morning. This hotel was in the better part of the city, not far from
the plaza, or great square.
"Hello, Harlan," said Vasco, after he had found his friend.
"Hello, Vasco."
"How would you like to see the great army parade this morning?"
"Fine," was the reply. "Where can we go to get a good view?"
"That's what I'd like to know. I don't want to stand in the crowd on
the street, for I could never see anything that way."
"Let's see what my father can do to help us," said Harlan.
Mr. Webster, who was in an adjoining room, greeted his son's friend
with a pleasant "Good morning" when the boys appeared before him.
Seeing the eager, inquiring look on their faces, he asked what he could
do for them.
"The Panama soldiers are going to parade to-day," said Harlan, "and
Vasco is anxious to find a place where he can see them."
Mr. Webster smiled. He had an idea that Harlan was as anxious to get a
view of the parade as was Vasco.
"Why don't you go into the cathedral and watch from the tower or from
one of the upper windows?" asked Mr. Webster.
"None but officials and their families or others holding tickets can
enter the cathedral till after the parade," replied Vasco, "and all
entrances are guarded."
"If I tell you of a way to get into the cathedral, do you think you can
remain within till the soldiers go by?" asked Mr. Webster.
"I'm sure we can," replied Vasco.
Mr. Webster, during his stay in Panama, had been able to pick up
information about the place that even Vasco did not know, and he said
to the boys, "You know where the old sea-battery is, on the other side
of the plaza from the cathedral?"
"Yes," said the two boys together.
"Well, from that battery to the cathedral is an underground passage,
built centuries ago to afford escape from the building. In times of
revolution there was often danger even within its sacred walls."
Mr. Webster told the boys how they might find the entrance to the
tunnel, and at once they were off to see for themselves. It took only a
few moments to make their way from the hotel, down the street, across
the plaza, and through a narrow alley to the old battery. Quickly they
passed inside. Here Vasco was entirely at home, for many times he had
wandered about the place, and with his friends had played hide-and-seek
and other boyish games.
Notwithstanding this, it was hard for Vasco and Harlan to find the
entrance to the underground passage. They opened many doors and
wandered into several blind corridors. Vasco was almost ready to give
up the search, but his American friend insisted on continuing. At last,
behind a heap of old rubbish, they found the entrance they had so
eagerly sought.
With a brave front the boys went into the dark passage. After going a
few yards, they found themselves in complete darkness.
"I hope we shall not have to go far in this dark place," said Vasco.
Harlan pretended to give a careless reply, but, after he had stubbed
his toes and scraped his shins on various obstacles in the path, he
agreed that the adventure had its drawbacks.
Just then it occurred to Vasco that he had a supply of matches in his
pocket. He scratched them one by one, thus faintly lighting the path.
Then the boys were able to move forward more rapidly, and soon they
came to what was evidently the foundation wall of the cathedral.
Through this wall was a low archway, which was blocked by what seemed
to be a wooden barricade. There was no sign of a door.
"Well, we are really in trouble now," said Harlan.
"There's no doubt about that," replied Vasco as he put his shoulder to
the partition. It did not budge, and the Panama lad was again inclined
to give up the attempt to get into the cathedral.
"We may as well give up trying to get in this way," he said.
"Not yet," was Harlan's reply as they stood in the dark. "Strike
another match, and let's see what this looks like, anyway."
Vasco scratched another match, and the two boys hastily looked over the
stout planking. Not a crack nor a loose joint was to be seen.
Just before the match went out, Harlan glanced backward and spied upon
the ground a stick of timber eight or ten feet long.
"Light another match," he shouted, darting toward the stick.
Lifting one end of it, he directed Vasco to take up the other end. It
was not very easy for Vasco to do this and keep his match burning at
the same time, but he managed to do so, though the light went out just
as they reached the archway again.
"Let's batter down these old planks," said Harlan.
Together the boys began to pound at the barricade. Though Vasco was a
small lad, compared with Harlan, his well-trained muscles, hardened and
toughened by out-door life, came well into play.
Under such hammering as the boys were able to give, the planks began to
loosen, and soon they made a hole large enough to crawl through.
Fortunately, this was in a remote part of the basement, and none heard
the noise the boys had made. No one dreamed of putting a guard at this
point. The entrance had been so long closed that nearly everybody had
forgotten it.
Passing through, the boys found themselves in a small room which had
been used as a storeroom.
"See the relics here," said Harlan.
"Mostly old rubbish, I guess," was Vasco's reply.
Whether relics or rubbish, the lads had no time to stop and examine the
stuff. They made their way to a steep stairway, down which a ray of
light came from a crack in the trap-door overhead.
Without a moment's delay Vasco and his friend mounted the stairs. With
a strong push they put their shoulders to the heavy timbers of which
the door was made. But the door had been too long settled in its place
to yield at once to their pushing. By persistent effort, however, the
door was moved. Slowly the boys raised it, looking carefully about as
their eyes became accustomed to the light which flooded the room into
which it opened.
It proved to be an anteroom on the main floor of the cathedral
into which the boys had come. Vasco immediately recognized their
surroundings. No one else was about, and the boys were able to make
their way without challenge to the portico facing the plaza. Once
mingled with the throng, there was no danger of any one interfering
with their movements. It was taken for granted by the soldiers that
Vasco and his friend had a right to be in the cathedral.
In truth, several of the guards were members of Lieutenant Barretas's
company, and they knew Vasco, who had often visited their camp. They
supposed, however, that the son of one of their officers had a right
within the space reserved for guests. Vasco, in turn, knew who these
particular soldiers were, and was not long making friends with them.
While waiting for the marching soldiers, Vasco told Harlan something of
the history of the cathedral, which is built of yellow stone, with high
Moorish towers.
As the boys looked up to the great dome, Harlan asked:
"What makes the dome sparkle so in the sunshine?"
"That's because of the hundreds of pearl shells that are stuck into the
cement covering," replied Vasco.
"Do you know," continued Vasco, "that this great building was put up
nearly one hundred and fifty years ago?"
"Yes," replied Harlan, "and I have heard that its builder was the first
coloured bishop of this city."
"That is true," said Vasco, "and he was the son of a poor man who
burned charcoal and then sold it from his back through the streets of
Panama. The son was very kind to the poor people, and was noted for his
charity."
"Yes," added one of Vasco's soldier acquaintances who stood near and
overheard the talk, "and this cathedral is really a monument to the
useful life of the bishop."
Further conversation was interrupted by the music of a brass band in
the distance. The boys looked down the street by which the soldiers
were to come to the plaza. In the distance they soon saw the uniforms
of the officers followed by the long white lines of the soldiers.
Vasco's enthusiasm knew no bounds as the battalion wheeled into the
plaza and passed by the cathedral with salutes for the onlookers. When
he finally spied his father, Lieutenant Barretas, marching at the head
of his company, Vasco was delirious with joy. To his mind, not even the
general in command looked finer than did the little lieutenant--his
father!
What cared Vasco if the lines of soldiers were not precisely straight?
Even less did he mind Harlan's criticism and lack of admiration for the
parade. Were not these soldiers enlisted in the service of his country,
and were they not ready to lay down their lives in its defence?
Vasco's only wish was that he were old enough to join them and wear the
uniform which to him seemed so glorious.
But, like all spectacles, grand as it seemed to Vasco, this one at last
came to an end. The last flag had dipped before the reviewing stand,
the last soldier had disappeared from the plaza, the last beat of drum
was lost in the distance.
Meantime, the sun had risen high, and with its hot rays was driving to
cover all the people of Panama. As was their usual custom, shopkeepers
and market-men closed their doors at eleven o'clock and betook
themselves to their homes to enjoy their noonday _siesta_.
Even the throngs of boys forsook their sports and disappeared from
the streets, and Vasco and Harlan took their departure from the
cathedral,--the latter to his cool room in the hotel, the former to his
more humble home.