Vasco, Our Little Panama Cousin

In young Vasco Barretas, who had both Spanish and Indian blood in his veins, there had been born a natural desire for excitement and adventure.

Just one thing equalled this desire. That was his dislike for work.

However, we must not blame him for that. His laziness was the result of training, or rather the lack of it. Necessities were few and easily obtained, and he had not learned to care for the luxuries of life.

On account of Vasco's fondness for bustle and excitement the time this story begins was most glorious for him. As his American cousin would say, "something was doing."

A successful revolution had just taken place in Panama.

A revolution was no new thing in the little strip of country that separates the Atlantic from the Pacific. Vasco's father had been through many such affairs. They had been nearly as regular as the rainy seasons.

Vasco did not understand all about it, yet even the boys in the streets knew that this revolution was different from any other.

There had been no bloodshed, but the results seemed likely to be very important to the country.

Do you want to know why?

Then listen to a little bit of history.

The State or Province of Panama, on the narrow bit of land connecting North and South America, had been a part of the country called the United States of Colombia.

The great republic to the north, the United States of America, wanted to dig a canal across Panama, but had been unable to get permission from Colombia. And so it looked as if there might be no canal-at least not in Panama.

The citizens of Panama were disappointed, for the digging of a canal through their country would bring to them many people and much wealth.

For this reason the leading men concluded that it was best to separate from Colombia, organize a government of their own, and come to an agreement with the United States. At the time this story opens the new government had just been set up, and its authority proclaimed.

But, it may be asked, what has all this to do with Vasco?

To begin with, Vasco's father, in private life a very ordinary citizen, who sometimes had been a waiter in a hotel and at other times the servant of an American engineer, was deeply interested in this latest revolution; for was he not an officer in the new National Guard,-Lieutenant Amadeo Barretas?

LIEUTENANT AMADEO BARRETAS

His position did not require much work, either of mind or body, but little Lieutenant Barretas could assume as much dignity as a seven-foot member of Napoleon's "Old Guard"-and more pomposity. When on parade he would strut about in his gaudy uniform with all the airs possible, and appear very serious-though to you he would have looked more silly than serious.

There was to be a grand review of the Panama "army." The soldiers were to parade through the streets of the city and be inspected by the commander-in-chief. Several officers of the United States army were to be guests of the Panama officials, and occupy a place on the reviewing stand.

Young Vasco meant to have a good sight of the parade. Surely he, the son of a lieutenant in the army, ought to have a place where he might see his father march by, and be able to add his voice to the thousands who would shout huzzas! But, for some reason, the officers in charge had neglected to invite him.

Vasco's home was on a side street in the poorer section of the city, so the soldiers would not pass by that place. How, then, could he get a good view of the parade?

Of course he could stand at the side of the street; but what chance would a small boy have in such a place as that?

Now Vasco was a boy of many resources, and it seemed to him that he might make use of the good nature of a young American friend.

Harlan Webster was the son of an American engineer who was in charge of work on the canal.

Mr. Webster had been for some time upon the Isthmus, and, unlike most of the Americans at work on the canal, he had brought his family, consisting of wife and son, to the city of Panama. They had now lived here over a year. During that time Harlan had learned a good deal about the country. He had also acquired some knowledge of Spanish, the language of the natives. In fact, it was said of him by his Panama friends that he could talk with the people more freely than many older foreigners who had been longer in the country.

The American boy knew many Panama lads, among them Vasco. "Lieutenant" Barretas, as he insisted on being called, had been in Mr. Webster's service at various times, and the two boys had thus become quite intimate and had taken many pleasure trips together.

Harlan was able to tell Vasco a good deal about Panama history. The stories about the buccaneers of old times, about the raid on the city of Panama, about Balboa and his adventures and discoveries, were more familiar to the American lad than they were to the Panama boy.

On the other hand, Vasco could give his friend much information about the every-day habits and customs of the people, and was able to take him to many points of interest. When it came to excursions by water or by land, Vasco was in his element. He could handle a boat with skill, he could swim like a fish, and he knew the windings and curvings of all the highways and byways of the city.

Straight to the hotel where the Webster family lived went Vasco this morning. This hotel was in the better part of the city, not far from the plaza, or great square.

"Hello, Harlan," said Vasco, after he had found his friend.

"Hello, Vasco."

"How would you like to see the great army parade this morning?"

"Fine," was the reply. "Where can we go to get a good view?"

"That's what I'd like to know. I don't want to stand in the crowd on the street, for I could never see anything that way."

"Let's see what my father can do to help us," said Harlan.

Mr. Webster, who was in an adjoining room, greeted his son's friend with a pleasant "Good morning" when the boys appeared before him. Seeing the eager, inquiring look on their faces, he asked what he could do for them.

"The Panama soldiers are going to parade to-day," said Harlan, "and Vasco is anxious to find a place where he can see them."

Mr. Webster smiled. He had an idea that Harlan was as anxious to get a view of the parade as was Vasco.

"Why don't you go into the cathedral and watch from the tower or from one of the upper windows?" asked Mr. Webster.

"None but officials and their families or others holding tickets can enter the cathedral till after the parade," replied Vasco, "and all entrances are guarded."

"If I tell you of a way to get into the cathedral, do you think you can remain within till the soldiers go by?" asked Mr. Webster.

"I'm sure we can," replied Vasco.

Mr. Webster, during his stay in Panama, had been able to pick up information about the place that even Vasco did not know, and he said to the boys, "You know where the old sea-battery is, on the other side of the plaza from the cathedral?"

"Yes," said the two boys together.

"Well, from that battery to the cathedral is an underground passage, built centuries ago to afford escape from the building. In times of revolution there was often danger even within its sacred walls."

Mr. Webster told the boys how they might find the entrance to the tunnel, and at once they were off to see for themselves. It took only a few moments to make their way from the hotel, down the street, across the plaza, and through a narrow alley to the old battery. Quickly they passed inside. Here Vasco was entirely at home, for many times he had wandered about the place, and with his friends had played hide-and-seek and other boyish games.

Notwithstanding this, it was hard for Vasco and Harlan to find the entrance to the underground passage. They opened many doors and wandered into several blind corridors. Vasco was almost ready to give up the search, but his American friend insisted on continuing. At last, behind a heap of old rubbish, they found the entrance they had so eagerly sought.

With a brave front the boys went into the dark passage. After going a few yards, they found themselves in complete darkness.

"I hope we shall not have to go far in this dark place," said Vasco.

Harlan pretended to give a careless reply, but, after he had stubbed his toes and scraped his shins on various obstacles in the path, he agreed that the adventure had its drawbacks.

Just then it occurred to Vasco that he had a supply of matches in his pocket. He scratched them one by one, thus faintly lighting the path. Then the boys were able to move forward more rapidly, and soon they came to what was evidently the foundation wall of the cathedral.

Through this wall was a low archway, which was blocked by what seemed to be a wooden barricade. There was no sign of a door.

"Well, we are really in trouble now," said Harlan.

"There's no doubt about that," replied Vasco as he put his shoulder to the partition. It did not budge, and the Panama lad was again inclined to give up the attempt to get into the cathedral.

"We may as well give up trying to get in this way," he said.

"Not yet," was Harlan's reply as they stood in the dark. "Strike another match, and let's see what this looks like, anyway."

Vasco scratched another match, and the two boys hastily looked over the stout planking. Not a crack nor a loose joint was to be seen.

Just before the match went out, Harlan glanced backward and spied upon the ground a stick of timber eight or ten feet long.

"Light another match," he shouted, darting toward the stick.

Lifting one end of it, he directed Vasco to take up the other end. It was not very easy for Vasco to do this and keep his match burning at the same time, but he managed to do so, though the light went out just as they reached the archway again.

"Let's batter down these old planks," said Harlan.

Together the boys began to pound at the barricade. Though Vasco was a small lad, compared with Harlan, his well-trained muscles, hardened and toughened by out-door life, came well into play.

Under such hammering as the boys were able to give, the planks began to loosen, and soon they made a hole large enough to crawl through.

Fortunately, this was in a remote part of the basement, and none heard the noise the boys had made. No one dreamed of putting a guard at this point. The entrance had been so long closed that nearly everybody had forgotten it.

Passing through, the boys found themselves in a small room which had been used as a storeroom.

"See the relics here," said Harlan.

"Mostly old rubbish, I guess," was Vasco's reply.

Whether relics or rubbish, the lads had no time to stop and examine the stuff. They made their way to a steep stairway, down which a ray of light came from a crack in the trap-door overhead.

Without a moment's delay Vasco and his friend mounted the stairs. With a strong push they put their shoulders to the heavy timbers of which the door was made. But the door had been too long settled in its place to yield at once to their pushing. By persistent effort, however, the door was moved. Slowly the boys raised it, looking carefully about as their eyes became accustomed to the light which flooded the room into which it opened.

It proved to be an anteroom on the main floor of the cathedral into which the boys had come. Vasco immediately recognized their surroundings. No one else was about, and the boys were able to make their way without challenge to the portico facing the plaza. Once mingled with the throng, there was no danger of any one interfering with their movements. It was taken for granted by the soldiers that Vasco and his friend had a right to be in the cathedral.

In truth, several of the guards were members of Lieutenant Barretas's company, and they knew Vasco, who had often visited their camp. They supposed, however, that the son of one of their officers had a right within the space reserved for guests. Vasco, in turn, knew who these particular soldiers were, and was not long making friends with them.

While waiting for the marching soldiers, Vasco told Harlan something of the history of the cathedral, which is built of yellow stone, with high Moorish towers.

As the boys looked up to the great dome, Harlan asked:

"What makes the dome sparkle so in the sunshine?"

"That's because of the hundreds of pearl shells that are stuck into the cement covering," replied Vasco.

"Do you know," continued Vasco, "that this great building was put up nearly one hundred and fifty years ago?"

"Yes," replied Harlan, "and I have heard that its builder was the first coloured bishop of this city."

"That is true," said Vasco, "and he was the son of a poor man who burned charcoal and then sold it from his back through the streets of Panama. The son was very kind to the poor people, and was noted for his charity."

"Yes," added one of Vasco's soldier acquaintances who stood near and overheard the talk, "and this cathedral is really a monument to the useful life of the bishop."

Further conversation was interrupted by the music of a brass band in the distance. The boys looked down the street by which the soldiers were to come to the plaza. In the distance they soon saw the uniforms of the officers followed by the long white lines of the soldiers.

Vasco's enthusiasm knew no bounds as the battalion wheeled into the plaza and passed by the cathedral with salutes for the onlookers. When he finally spied his father, Lieutenant Barretas, marching at the head of his company, Vasco was delirious with joy. To his mind, not even the general in command looked finer than did the little lieutenant-his father!

What cared Vasco if the lines of soldiers were not precisely straight? Even less did he mind Harlan's criticism and lack of admiration for the parade. Were not these soldiers enlisted in the service of his country, and were they not ready to lay down their lives in its defence?

Vasco's only wish was that he were old enough to join them and wear the uniform which to him seemed so glorious.

But, like all spectacles, grand as it seemed to Vasco, this one at last came to an end. The last flag had dipped before the reviewing stand, the last soldier had disappeared from the plaza, the last beat of drum was lost in the distance.

Meantime, the sun had risen high, and with its hot rays was driving to cover all the people of Panama. As was their usual custom, shopkeepers and market-men closed their doors at eleven o'clock and betook themselves to their homes to enjoy their noonday siesta.

Even the throngs of boys forsook their sports and disappeared from the streets, and Vasco and Harlan took their departure from the cathedral,-the latter to his cool room in the hotel, the former to his more humble home.

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