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the fate of the inhabitants of all nationalities had the coming of the soldiers been delayed for a few weeks. England alone, amongst all nations, by taking the bold step of despatching to China an efficient force, has preserved the lives and property not only of her own people, but of all foreigners in Shanghai. She has, moreover, gone far to recover any loss of face she may have suffered in former years.

How long the regiments will remain in Shanghai we do not know, nor can we guess how

long the recovery of her trade will be delayed, but it is evident that the arrival of the British soldier has had a most steadying effect upon her.

His unfailing good temper, his cheerfulness in adversity, his universal kindness, and his absolute refusal to become in any way alarmed-all characteristics

which shone SO

brightly throughout the Great War,-have brought confidence not only to the foreign merchant British, American, or Latin but also to the Chinese themselves.

THE ELUSIVE TRAIL

BY CYRIL W. DAVSON.

IX. GUATEMALA

IN the early morning all America from Mexico to those disturbing noises which Panama. But whilst musing belong to a small ship were in in this way, the lighters had evidence. It was still dark, but been loaded. Now for the people were moving about on human freight. Down in the deck, even the passengers, pre- cage, twenty minutes of swayparing for the ordeal of landing ing and tossing, and up again in lighters, and awaiting that on to the jetty. It's a loathgorgeous spectacle which would some. method of embarking greet them at sunrise: the and disembarking from a ship, Seven Wonders of that world- but you cannot build harbours Tacana, Tajumulco, Santa on this exposed coast with its Maria (with half its side torn surf beach. away), Atitlan, Acatenango, Fuego, Agua-their shadowy forms appearing in the early dawn, and turning, as the sun rose, into immense coppery giants from twelve to fourteen thousand feet in height, their talus slopes covered with detritus merging into rich agricultural land, which in turn gave way to forests, and finally that streak of shining white sand buffeted by the thunderous rollers of the Pacific Ocean.

Guatemala, unlike Salvador, has two windows: the one, San José de Guatemala, at which we were now about to land, looks out on to the Pacific, and the other, Puerto Barrios, on to the Atlantic Ocean. Small British and American steamers ply along this coast, bringing news and exchanging trade with the neighbouring States of Central

VOL. CCXXII.—NO. MCCCXLI.

The train for Guatemala City was waiting for us. Lucky indeed, for the accommodation available for passengers in this port is very uninviting. I remember, on a later occasion, when arriving here, inquiring at one of the rest-houses for accommodation. They call them hotels, but I don't. I was shown a room almost devoid of furniture, although it certainly possessed two beds. Nothing better offered, and hardly had I taken possession when an Englishman and his wife were ushered in by the hotel-keeper. I will give him his title, although he doesn't really deserve it. That worthy introduced us by merely saying, and with a fatuous smile, "You are all Engleesh, so it will be all right," and pointed his finger to the other Caramba!" I

bed. exclaimed,

A 2

if you are not a carriage must serve. The latter usually is of surprising flexibility, which gives a greater sense of danger than there really is.

which here would mean "Im- taxi to your destination, and possible, unthinkable," and, picking up my belongings, departed. I followed the innkeeper out. He merely shrugged his shoulders, but I pestered him until at last, "Come," he beckoned, "you shall sleep in my daughter's room. It is good, yez?" and looked inquiringly into my face. "It sounds good," I replied. He then led me to another dreadful room with four walls which had once been whitewashed, probably by mistake, and possessing one dirty bed. Turning round he faced me with that same amazing smile, and, as previously, looking up into my face, drawled, "You may take my daughter's room. I will take my daughter. is good, yez?"

It

Should you happen to be driving towards the suburbs and in the dry season, you will be covered in brick-dust. The rough bricks are just laid on the road, and the traffic pulverises them. You will see nothing. A pink haze will rise on all sides of the vehicle, and even your hair, if you have any, will receive its quota of particles. In the wet season you will be thickly caked with rich liquid mud, which will adhere to you aggressively. Perchance a piece will slap thee in the face or close thy burning eyes. Then they will tell you - these delightful people-that it's only a piece of mud, because you're not supposed to know. But do not attempt to remove it. Remember it's part of the life of the country, which must be absorbed. A baptism none can escape!

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Of course, if you are going to some hotel in the city, you will just rattle over the cobblestones and wood-blocks and be there in no time.

It is about eight hours to Guatemala City-through the swampy coastland, infested with mosquitoes and and other other stinging insects; then the rising ground, with its coffee plantations and sugar estates; and lastly, the railway runs between the tall volcanoes. Now the down grade, past the great lake of Amatitlan, once in a bygone age, long before chronological history, the crater of a colossal volcano. The train passes along its shores, where the sulphur springs hiss close to the water's edge. Up again over mountains, through beautifully wooded lands, and, when the evening shadows begin to fall, the straggling city looms. If you are lucky you get a being repainted, which, we were

One morning I met Chatsworth. He had made all arrangements for the expedition to the mosquito coast of Spanish Honduras, and I agreed to accompany him. He had chartered a schooner. It was undergoing certain repairs and

informed, would take about six dirty, and full of crawling weeks. insects.

A few days later we had started for the Mexican frontier, for, whilst in Salvador, geological sections had been handed to us of a beautiful oil structure which was supposed to be situated on the Suchiate River, about ten miles north of the railway. Those sections had been made by what is termed in these parts a "mining man." I do not exactly know what that is, but that's what he was. It gives me the impression of a man who a great many years ago did some mining and hasn't done any since. My definition is, I fear, very vague, but so is the "mining man when you meet him.

It's a long train journey to Ayutla, the crazy little border town, with its muddy river, some twelve hours, most of which is through the sweltering heat of the coastlands between those seven silent gods, and in the distance, hidden only by the forest lands, the placid face of the ocean.

In the morning I awakened with a burning sensation behind the ear, and, as this became intense, went to the apothecary.

"Cienpiés (a centipede)-you must poultice it for about a week," that purveyor of potions announced.

When I got back to Guatemala City I related my painful experience to a friend.

"You're lucky," he avowed. "Why, is it a sign of good luck?" I asked hopefully.

"Oh no," he replied. "Only a centipede once crawled across me when I was asleep-across my eye."

Funny, I thought, some of us don't even recognise our luck when it does come.

We rode out to the property to examine the "mining man's " structure. He had, by-the-bye, drawn it the wrong way, but it was perfectly understandable. We found a good section of exposed rock close to the Suchiate River, which Chatsworth examined carefully. No such structure as the mining man had drawn was there. However, I do believe it might be found · that is, in some text-book.

It was dark when we arrived, and we lost no time in detraining with all our saddlery and what not. We flitted across the road like ghosts in the moonlight, hiking our equipage, and deposited same at the door of a wooden inn. Tapped, but it wasn't the door. It only looked like it. How ever, some one appeared from a little farther along the building. We were shown to a room upstairs, an unsavoury vast and place -no air, stifling heat, of Mexico.

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We decided to return to Guatemala City to-morrow, and filled in the rest of the day by walking along the banks of this frontier river. There is always something fascinating about a frontier. Over there on that other bank was the turbulent Republic A learned judge

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the other day declared that there was no such thing as an unwritten law. "It's just," he said, a synonym for barbarism." Yes, and Mexico is the living embodiment of both. As we strolled along the banks I could not help recalling the accounts I had but lately read in Guatemalan papers of the terrible treatment meted out by bandits to passengers travelling in the through train between Mexico and Guatemala cities. The bandits at some lonely spot in the trackless forests of Mexico would hold up a train, and, under penalty of instant death, order the passengers, men and women, to discard every stitch of clothing. In this condition they would drive them into the forest to suffer untold miseries. They then ransacked their clothes, a most effective but inhuman method of robbery.

We had hardly been back a week in Guatemala City before another journey to the Mexican frontier was projected. Meanwhile we received the news that the weather on the Caribbean coast had been atrocious lately, and that our schooner was not yet painted.

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It looks as if we're going to have a tough trip," I remarked to Chatsworth.

"Yes, it's the wrong season of the year to attempt it. All the coastal captains admit that, but London wants this expedition carried out at once, and so we must go."

ing out of Guatemala City on the way to the Mexican frontier. This time we alighted at Cruces and made a circular traverse through Tumbador, Rodeo, Malacatán, and down as hitherto to Ayutla, where we crossed the railway and proceeded on southwards to Blanca, and then on to Charerra, Caballo Blanco, Paraiso, and finally joined the train again at the large town of Mazatenango. The trip was without incident, but our progress was impeded by the heavy rains and innumerable coastal rivers which had to be crossed, riding through them with the mule submerged up to its belly, and never knowing step by step whether the next one would land you in a deep hole. However, this is one of the very ordinary risks which any traveller in such countries must face, and we returned to Guatemala City after another fruitless journey, for the nature of the strata, from a petroleum point of view, had not been encouraging.

Constant travel of this type is tiring, and we took a few days' rest before getting together our supplies for the trip to Mosquitia.

Guatemala City is the largest in Central America, with a population of about a hundred thousand. It stands at an altitude of over five thousand feet, and can be both boiling hot and at night so cold that an overcoat is welcome. It all depends on the season of the

We were once again steam- year and the kind of weather.

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