Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1918-06-20
cAAPTER |.
The Valley of Delight.

The Valley OF Delight.
In all probability your first view of
the valley of the Yumuri will be from
the Hermitage Of Montserrate, for it Is
there that the cocherOs drive you.
There you overlook the fairest sight in
all Christendom-"th loyeliest valley
n the world" as Humboldt called it
sSr the Yumuri nestles right at your
feet, a vale of pure delight. a glimpse
II Paradise that bewilders the eye and
ais the soul with ecstasy.
Standing beside the shrine of Our
Lady of NontSerrate, you Win see be-
yond the cleft through which the river
energies another hill. La Cumbre, from
which the view is wonderful. and your
driver may tell you about the splendid
homes that used to grace its slopes
in the golden days when Cuba had an
Rristocracy. Your cochero may point
out certain grove of orange trees,
now little more than rank tangle.
aud tell you about the quinta of Don
Hsteban Varona, and its hidden treas
are; about little Esteban and Rosa, the
twins; and about Sebastian. the giant
slave, who died in fury, taking with
him the secret of the well.
The Spanish Main is rich in tales of
sreasure-tr0ye, for when the Antilles
were most affiuent they were least Sc
cure, and men We're put to strange
shifts to protect their fortunes. Ger
tain boards. like jewels of tragic his
tory, in time assumed a sort of evil
personality, not infrequently exercising
O dire influence over the lives of those
who CHANGED to fall under their spells.
1t was as If the money We're accursed,
for certainly the seekers often came
to evil or such a character was the
Tarona treasure. Don Esteban himself
was neither better nor worse than
other men of his time, and although
part of tho money he hid was wrung
from the toll of slaves and the traffic
In their bodies much of it was clean
enough, and in time the earth purified
Il all. Since his acts made so deep an
Impress, and since the treasure he left
played so big part in the destinies of
those whit came after him, it is well
should be given.
The story, please remember, is an
old one; At has been often told, and in
the telling and retelling it is but natural
that a certain glamour, a certain
tropical extravaganza. should attach to
It. therefore you should make allow
ance for some exaggeration, some ac-
cretions due to the lapse of time. In
the main, however, it is well authenti-
gated and runs parallel to fact.
Donna ltosa VarOna lived barely long
enough to learn that she had given
0irth to twins. Don Esteban, whom
people knew as a grim man, took the
GLOW Of his sudden bereavement as be-
came one of his strong fiber. Leaving
the priest upon his knees and the doc
tor busted with the babies, he strobe
through the house and out into the
sunset, followed by the walls OF the
slave women.
Don EWeban was at heart a selfish
nan, end now, therefore, he felt a sui
fen. fierce resentment mingled with
his grief What trick was this? he
asked himself. What had he done to
merit such misfortune? Had he not
made rich gifts to the church? Had he
aot knelt and prayed for his wife's
safe delivery and then hung his gifts
spon the sacred image, as Loyola had
hung up his weapons before that other
rounterpa of Our Lady? Don Este
pan scowtld at the memory, for those
gems were of the finest.
He looked up from his unhappy
musings to find gigantic bare
footed negro standing before him.
The slave was middle-aged; his kinky
hair was growing gray; but he was of
superb proportions, and the muscles
which showed through the rents in his
cotton garments were as smooth and
supple as those OF a stripping. His
black face was puckered with grief,
as ne began:
Master is il true that Donna Rosa
-" The fellow clicked
Eyes" Esteban nodded, YEARLY, "she
Is dead, Sebastian"
Tears cSIne to Sebastian's eyes and
overfSwed his cheeks; he stood mo-
tioaless. striving to voice his sympathy.
Al length he said:
"She was too good for this world.