Nose Rings Desired by San Blas Indians

1919

Defy Police When Government Rules Out Ornament.

"Changing the style of wearing gold nose rings by government order has aroused dissatisfaction in social circles in the San Blas Indian country on the Atlantic coast of Panama," is a statement made by Everybody's. Police were called in when the ladies insisted upon wearing the facial decoration, despite the order, and several women were fined.

According to the authority on this secluded spot of the world: "The San Blas occupy the Atlantic coast and the adjacent islands near the Colombian border and are among the best natural sailors in the world, many of them going to sea on ships from the Panama canal. They are great fishermen, and their coast and islands are said to produce the best cocoanuts in the world. These natural seamen bring large loads of cocoanuts to Cristobal, piled high in their dugout sailboats, up the roughest bit of coast on the Caribbean, with the waves laving over the edge, and never lose a nut.

"Their blood is probably the purest of any of the American Indians, as no men in the world have guarded their women with more jealousy and efficiency than the San Bias. In a country everywhere touched with the blood of the West Indian negroes, the San Blas never show the slightest trace of any kind of mixture. Until a few years ago, and it is still often true, no men other than those of their own tribe were permitted to be ashore on their coasts or on their islands after sunset."

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 9.

Lazy, Dirty Panama

1905

Although there is a new flag in Panama, and the affairs of state are in new hands, life rolls on in its accustomed way. The bells in the old towers keep calling the faithful to prayer; long files of venders parade the narrow streets, eternally crying for sale their frugal wares; buzzards soar in the hot air or hop on foot in their never ending search for offal; the same horde of quarreling women crowd the market place to chatter, to barter, and to fight; polite men drink in the cafes and busy themselves with political plot and counterplot; and dusky senoritas lounge in cool patios, dreaming the dreams that southern maidens dream.

The south is always the south. Its idle, shiftless children play and parley their hours away, and the years bring little change for them. They are as aimless as the winds that play in the palms. It is no wonder. The word tropic sounds narcotic. It is of no use to resist. You may summon all your powers of will, but drowsiness touches you with its gentle fingers and you drift softly out on the sea of sleep.

Soldiers Eat Ice Cream

The sweet tooth seems to flourish in a hot climate. Children gnawing at pieces of sugar cane is always a familiar sight in tropical lands. Sometimes they get little else to eat. On a former trip to the tropics I had in my employ a little black by the name of Domingo, who ran errands for me. Necessarily I became quite familiar with the habits of my young assistant. I found that, aside from sleeping a great deal, he was quite an eater. His blouse was his larder, and he kept it well stocked with eatables, mostly sweets. If he were disturbed while eating he would chuck the unfinished morsel inside his shirt to await a more favorable opportunity to consume it.

Domingo's tendency toward economy was commendable, even if his idea of cleanliness was not praiseworthy. There was always a noticeable bulging in his blouse, and I frequently heard a rattling sound as he moved about. One day I said to him: "Domingo, what is that in your shirt which rattles so?" He replied: "That's my ice cream dish, sir."

It was a well battered tin cup, and, after some contortions, he brought forth a crooked, much abused metal spoon. "For two cents I get this half full of cream, sir. It is very good. May I bring you some?" I did not avail myself of his generosity.

Domingo is a soldier now. The salary he gets for being a fighting man amounts to about 40 cents per day, American money, and he boards himself. This is a satisfactory arrangement to Domingo, because feeding himself is an old habit. He does not have to put up with whatever rations the head of the commissary department may see fit to issue.

He still has his battered cup and crooked spoon, and he buys ice cream and cake as many times a day as the spirit moves him. His fellows do likewise. Around their camp there is a hovering swarm of venders.

Steamer on the Spot

The Panama railway steamer, City of Washington, which rendered such valuable service during the recent trouble, has been an actor in other stirring events. It was in Havana harbor when the Maine was blown up, and was anchored next to that ill-fated vessel.

The Washington's small boats were the first to begin picking up the men from the water, and its crew saved many of their lives. Over 100 women and children were kept on the Washington for two days and nights at Colon. They were given their meals and the best service the ship afforded, and no charges were made at all.

After the trouble was over this boat took the commissioners to New York, and later, took the treaty to Panama to be signed. When it was brought on board, Capt. Jones was given a printed letter of instructions, in which it was stated that his charge concerned $50,000,000 worth of interests.

The valuable document was incased in a steel box made especially for it, and this box was contained in a stronger and larger steel safe. Two smaller steel boxes contained two keys, which were sealed with the seal of the United States. There was considerable red tape to be gone through with in delivering the treaty to the proper authorities at Colon, because it was neither freight, baggage, mail nor express. It was one of those little jobs of Uncle Sam's that, as the saying goes, "had to be done just so."

An incident occurred during the "bloodless insurrection" which caused a stampede among the black population. There are thousands of negroes on the isthmus, who were brought here from Jamaica and other islands of the West Indies to work on the French canal. When that fantastic fizzle spent itself they were left to "root, hog, or die."

Most of them are English subjects, and while they are a miserable, poverty-stricken lot, their one pride is that they are subjects of Great Britain. It stands them well in hand, because it saves them from being pressed into service for military duty. It is to the credit of the English officials that they look after them in this respect, and prevent them from being imposed upon. If the pretenders to authority, or those who have so frequently to defend their position, were allowed to round them up and force them to carry arms, they would not last long.

The stampede referred to was caused by an accident. One of the volunteers, who was not used to handling firearms, while in the act of examining his weapon, allowed it to go off. The bullet went between his toes, and it was all so sudden that he thought the enemy surely had him. He let out a yell and started to run. Several hundred negroes who were lounging in the vicinity, curiously waiting for developments, heard the shot and yell and started a precipitate rush for safety. As they ran they spread the news and gathered recruits. The retreat of Britain's black brigade on that warm, warm morning was not a success from a standpoint of order, but deserves special mention as regards speed. Some of them are probably running yet.

The Shade in the Jungle

Panama has waited long to gain the center of the stage. It is as gray and worn as an old man. It has seen enough sorrow to make a thousand tragedies. Its green swamp is the lair of death, where fever, like a slinking thief, always lurks in hiding.

Yellow Jack is an invisible horror. It advances with noiseless steps and clutches its victims with fleshless hand. Ever as it passes there are dead men and women.

This shapeless, hiding thing, which strikes unseen, is the real defender of the bar that God laid down to mark the separation of the seas. If it is His supreme will that the waiting oceans blend their waters, He must make strong the arm that is preparing to strike the barrier away; He must guard the blow that will shatter the mountains by calling off the shade that stalks so ruthlessly through the jungle.

Whale Fought Ocean Liner

1905

The Pacific Mail Company's liner Acapulco, which arrived early yesterday morning from Panama and way ports, had an exciting experience with a whale off San Blas. The leviathan, floating high out of the water, was enjoying a morning nap and giving its tough hide a sunbath, when the Acapulco came along.

The lookout sighted the whale and called the attention of the man at the wheel to the slumbering mountain of flesh that floated directly in the liner's path. The quartermaster, who was steering, gave the spokes of the wheel a twist and the Acapulco's head sheered off a little. A collision was avoided, but the Acapulco's side grazed the starboard shoulder of the big fish and jarred the whale from slumberland.

The whale was fully awake before the liner had entirely passed. He awoke in a bad temper and made a furious rush at the Acapulco's stern. The whale found the disturber of his dreams a pretty solid sort of fish, but, undaunted by his failure to ram his head through the steel plates, gathered himself for another charge.

He struck the steamer under the stern, and as he bounced off, slashed at the retreating hull with his tail. Then one more rush. This time the whale found his match, for the rapidly revolving propeller landed a bewildering succession of uppercuts on his lower jaw. With a splash of defiance, the leviathan dived and disappeared and the people of the Acapulco saw him no more.

Chief Officer Bailey interviewed the quartermaster, who had avoided the whale by such a narrow margin, and concluded a heart to heart sailor talk by advising the steersman in future to "let sleeping whales lie." — San Francisco Call.

Mr. Bryan's Position on Candidates

1911

Mr. Bryan's requirement that the Democratic presidential candidate next year must be one who supported the nominee of that party in 1896, 1900 and 1908 evokes the sarcastic wonder why he does not include 1904 or 1892, when Mr. Bryan voted for Weaver, or 1872 when Horace Greeley ran. But the answer is plain enough. Br. Bryan Was not the candidate those other years.


The Canal

All discussion of legislation respecting the Panama canal is interesting, and now is the time for it. That is one subject about which there should be no politics. All want the canal completed as soon as possible, and conducted successfully when completed: Let there be no delay about settling the question of fortifications, of tolls, of the general features of management. The president is fully informed about and alive to the situation, and congress should give prompt heed to his recommendations.


Habit Grows

"I hate to see a little country buying its first battleship."
"Why?"
"Reminds me of a boy taking his first smoke."


Many who think they mean right are right mean.

If some man were compelled to pay as they go they would stay.