Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1940-09-02
BY RICHARD TEWKESBURY.

BY RICHARD TEWKESBURY.
A 35-mile ride from Panama City
IN a dilapidated truck brought me
to the Jumping place"-the edge
of the unknown Darian jungle COM
pany from which I hoped to return,
in few weeks, with facts about the
legendary, Indian-haunted area of
use to the eventual builders of the
Panama connecting link between the
north and south ends of the Pan
American highway.
1t was dark when we reached
Chepo, terminus of Panama's sec
ton of the projected motor high
way. The road halts abruptly on a
concrete landing called Ell Captain,
on the bank of the Bayano River.
There is no barricade. The motor
ist is supposed to know where the
road ends.
Ended, too, was the region where
travellers moved at 80 or 40 miles
an hour over a smooth road. just
beginning was an area where dis
tances are reckoned in hours by
dugout boatS-roughly a half to
! mile and half per hour. Lying
beyond was the mysterious jungle
gap in the great highway of the
futuye.
Dugouts tied to the landing in
formed me Indians were in port. I
shared my food with an Indian I
found swinging in a hammock I'M
der shelter. then rolled into my
sleeping bag on the ground beside
him. The last I remember was his
contented grunt as he pulled at the
Panama cigar I had given him. I
had made a friend.
Boats Ride Crest of Tide.
Late the next afternoon I showed
off with a little 1otilla of Indians
on the approaching high tide. The
stars were brilliant as the night
deepened. The Southern Cross and
a portion of the Great Dipper gilt
tered at us. The Indians conferred
and staked their boats in midstream
to await faster tidal current. We
lay in the dugouts and slept until
midnight.
Then the Indians began pushing
up the swollen river. The tide was
running rapidly, the muddy water
rushing upstream. We rode on the
crest. Morning found us at the end
OF the tide and beginning of the
first rapids. For the next two days
each Indian exerted himself to the
fullest against the strengthening
rapids. Hour after hour we jerked
slowly upward, often in the teeth
Of roaring rapids, again around
grassy bends of the swift river.
When the boatmen paused to rest,
they stripped off their trousers to
plunge into the water. We slept
in the boats.
The Indians ate boiled bananas,
cocoa drink and a few fish they
caught. The boys in the party
hunted snailS, which they boiled
and consumed with evident pleasure
and a great cracking of shells.
Village Reached Third Day.
On and on we pushed, always up
ward in the diminishing stream. All
through the day we passed large
hills matted over by great trees
and entangling vines. Parrakeets
chartered overhead; black and white
cranes f1shed in the shallow river
bends; 3-foot snake squirmed to
- shore, and dells rivaling those of
20 the famed Wisconsin River ap-
peared frequently on either side.
Such beauty can be had only along
river. No highway will ever be
able to reveal such wonders.
At the close of the third day and
seemingly at the end of the In
dams strength, we reached Is huge
grass houses grouped along the trib-
utary stream of Acanti. None of the
houses can be seen from the Bayano
River.
Only after encountering steep
rapids requiring Skillful maneuver-
ing of the boats can the entrance to
the small crystal-clear stream be
gained. And there is revealed one
of the rarest of beautiful settings
a cool stream swarming with large
colored fish, huge brown rejecting
rock banks, majestic grass houses,
towering tropical trees, a patch of
blue sky above, and dabbling in the
stream the most conspicuous and
fascinating creatures of all-the
women of the tribe costumed in
red and blue.
The dignity of the women, the
stateliness of the jungle and the
unity expressed by the village, leaves
an indelible impression on any visi-
tor to the quiet village of Acanti.
Impressed by Honesty.
Civilized man may have his great
Pan American highway, but he
should never intrude in mass upon
the sanctity of this seclusion. And
as I see it, all will be well, for just
miles north of the village is a
possible route for the highway.
Five miles in the jungle Is as good
as 5000 for seclusion.
I salute the order, the respect and
the general atmosphere OF all the
villages of the interior. Although
my knapsack often lay open on the
floor, exposing my canned food, and
my odd-looking clothes lay at the
finger tips of children, have never
lost an article in any of the villages.
Every one inspects my equipment
and pulls at the zippers. Even the
chiefs looked at each of the % cans
OF food and took many personal
things out of my knapsack. They
were as curious as they are honest.
Children play and enjoy them
selves. yet the village was quiet-no
rowdy sounds-no harsh talk be-
tween women or men. All the braves
respect their chief while with him
or while in the jungle carrying out
his orders. The general atmosphere
Is one of complete accord, with never
Q thought otherwise
One afternoon a snake doctor
came in my hut and shook hands
with me. He asked for medicine