The Red Cloud chief., 1911-11-02

the only man Of any education in the village. but
two highways and several byways converge at
Alanje, and every few days he might look for
passiAy visit from some intelligent traveller His
duties occupied three or four hours OF the day
and the rest Of the time he filled In with study,
for his ambition pointed to advancement in his
calling. whilst his environment had awakened an
inherent taste for natural history.
We left the table to walk over to the church.
with it's curious detached tower. asked for the
records. With righteous Indignation blazing In bis
eyes, the little cura laid before me pile Of leath
er-covered manuscripts. nodded. worm.eaten. and
torn. Not page was intact. hardly two consecu'
tive lines legible
"such neglect is crime" said my host. fer.
vently. II need hardly say that the damage was
beyond arrest when these came into my hands,"
fully appreciated his feelings. Indeed. dare
say that my own regret was the keener. Alanje
is older than David. In fact. its history merges
with the times Of the Conquistadores and there is
no knowing what wondrous tales may be hidden
in those sadly mutilated documents.
"Our church has legend" remarked the cura.
leading me to q large alcove on the left OF the
chancel. Drawing aside a curtain. he revealed
life sized painting Of the Christ in his final agony
It was evidently the work Of an artist. but did
not betray extraordinary ability.
Il don't know when this came here. but 1t was
certainly before the present generation" the
cura explained. with slight show OF embarrass'
ment "The story goes that one evening
stranger came to the village and declining shell
ter elsewhere. begged to be locked alone in the
church over night. His request was granted
When the curious villagers came early In the
morning to look for him he had gone. and the pic.
ture. with the paint fresh and wet. hung where
you see It."
I looked at the little cura questioningly.
"Oh. I don't know" no said. with shame
faced smile and shrug Of the shoulders. AT
any rate, my people believe the story firmly. and
Il dOAs them no HARM"
On the road between Alanje and Divala We
crossed several streams. A better watered coun.
try than this could not well be imagined.
Divala Is q little settlement of 50 to 60 huts
and perhaps. 800 Inhabitants. who are entirely
dependent upon the ranch and insure It q con.
stant supply Of labor. The people cultivate little
patches. from which they derive almost all the
foodstufs they need. few weeks work In the
year ut 60 cents day will produce enough money
for clothing and moderate Indulgence In the
luxuries that are to be had at the village trading
store.
Divala Is Is miles from anywhere, but the most
unlikely place to look for an American family in
q bungalow that has the appearance Of having
been transplanted from q New Jersey suburb.
Mrs. Wilson has lived in this out.of-the-way cor.
ner Of the earth for nve years. and has had the
companionship Of her infant during the past
eighteen months. There IL not woman OF her
own race within 10 miles. This is isolation in.
deed. and ! suspected that she must nnd Il irk.
some, thougn sne wouIo NOT ADMIT AZ mucn.
Twelve years ago Leslie Wilson came out from
California and settled in the neighborhood Of Di
vala with half dozen Americans and Britishers.
Thus the settlement Of Dvala was formed and .
large proportion Of the ranch turned into Potrero
without penny of outlay. The disturbed condi.
tion Of the country reduced the prices Of all prop
erty. and Wilson was able to buy the nucleus Of
his stock at very low figures
The owner Of Divala has worked hard and In.
telligently for ten years on the Improvement Of
his property Today he has 5000 acres Of as nne
land as any In Chiriqui we'll stocked and fur
nished with all the necessary buildings The
ranch Is easily worth $4,000. Not bad result
Of an enterprise started twelve years ago with
e200 capital