WAYLAID BY BRIGANDS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19496, 27 November 1926, Page 2 (Supplement)

WAYLAID BY BRIGANDS.

THRILLS IN THE WILDS.

A WOMAN'S ADVENTURE

SHOT AT BY REBELS

EXPLORING CENTRAL AMERICA

A 'thrilling story of adventures in t,hsy wilds of Central America is told in the Sunday News by Lady (Richmond) Brown, recently returned from an 18,000miles exploration tour. She writes: lam as timid a woman as there is to be found in the whole world. To spend a night alone in a house simply gives me the creeps; why, an evening alone in this hotel room is hateful to think of, but put me in a jungle, at night, with word of a young lion somewhere in the offing—ah, that is a different thing altogether! I have often gone out alone into the jungle at night after a lion, or a wild cat, or one of the other fellow guests you run across in the Central American wilds, armed wit 1 ' "* rifia and my revolvers, and with a spot-He;ht strapped on to mv forehead. I have r>o fear of wild things, but I have a very intense fear of ray own kind. It is just the way I am made. I have travelled 18,000 miles in the last eight months, by sea and land, by motor-boat, foot and steamer; 1 have seen ancient cities in ruin and had my car riddled with bullets in an up-to-date revolution,, and now 1 am homo in England —and only waiting for the time to coma to go out on my travels again. I feel » depressed in England. The old spirit seems to be dead —the spirit of enterprise which drove Englishmen out into the ends of the earth, pioneering, developing, opening up the wealth and resources of distant lands, Where is it that old Drake spirit ? « And the tragedy is that there are countries out there in Ceutral America which are absolutely crying out for young English pluck and Drains. In Nicaragua, Guatemala, Salvador and Honduras it was the same story I heard from the presidents of those countries: " We want your people to come out hero. Wo have the wealth, anc] it is mostly going to waste. If they come out we will help them aLI we can." Visit from the President. In Honduras a thing happened to me of which I am particularly proud. President Pas Baraona made me the subject of an honour which I believe has never been extend 3d to a private individual before. Ho came to my hotel, after dark, and talked to mo for two hours in my room—sitting, incidentally, on the only, rocking chair the room possessed—whilo outside in the corricor his two guards stood with bayonets fixed. As a woman, I appreciate the honour that he, the head of a State, did me by breaking with cus'om in order to discus* trade prospects with me. For, you see, though I go oat into the wilds as a man, carrying my pack and my rifle and revolvers like the- men, I do not consider that women are the equals of men. Men mcst lead. Perhaps, though, women have qualities which men do not possess, and which make them valuable m exploring work. Their minds work more quickly. Where men use a thousand sentences in thinking something out, a woman's mind —intuition, is it: —reaches out to the correct solution in a flash. Exploring for women! Given means and leisure, there is no reason why any woman should feel useless and bored. She has the whole world to see. Though there are little difficulties, of course. Little things like that revolution that broke out in Nicaragua when I wa.. there. Revelations begin so casually out there, yon have to keep your eyes and ears open or you may walk fight in the thick of one without knowing that it exists at all. Tile Game of " See-saw," One day I saw some men painting the wall of a house opposite the hotel, when suddenly an official came along and bore them off to the palace, where they were criven ill-fitting uniform;; and told to dofend the Republic. Those poor fellows did not know what on earth they were fighting for, and the wretched way they dragged their rifles about in the dust pretty clearly showed what they thought about it all. Revolutions out there are always between the "Blues" and the " Reds," and the bulk of the population carry about a badge of either colour with them. This is an excellent plan, bat you hava t-> be careful you are wearing the right badge, otherwise. . . ? And the situation changes so quickly! One minute the " Reds " are on top, next minute the " Blues " gain a victory, and everybody must pocket his red badgo with expedition, The President of Nicaragua had lent me his motor-car to see the country with, and naturally, when the revolution broka out, everybody warned me against driving in it. ■' It will be a certain target for the rebels," they told me, and, of course, they were right. But lam a perverse sort of person, and I went on using tha car. A Dozen Ballet Holes, All went well until one afternoon whea I was returning to the city of Managua along a Charming country road lined with hedges, and then suddenly things began to happen. The first thing I knew was that the hedges on either side were bristling with rifle barrels, and there was a most unholy din of shooting acocmpanied by a smashing of glass and a rending of woodwork all round me in the car. But, strange to say, I was not touched, and the car got back to the city in safety. There must have been about a dozen bulllet-holes in that car. Another excitirig experience took place when I and Mr. Mitchell Hedges were crossing the main mountain range of Central America by motor-car. We were about 1(3,000ft. up, at the highest point we reached, when we were practically surrounded by volcanoes that were so active I could not help thinking there must be some relation between them and the unstable politics of the country, But while we were still climbing in the car we rounded one hairpin bend when the car care to a violet stop, and the chauffeur shouted to us to grab the revolvers that were in the pockets of the car. Ahead I could see a tree, which had been felled to tie across the roadway. That was all, bot it was enough for me to know that we were receiving the attentions of one of the gangs of bandits who haunt these mountains. During the halfhour it took onr chauffeur and the man with him to move that tree trunk I sat inside the car wfth my revolver ready at the window. Perhaps some shots we fired in the air to inform the banditsi that we were armed frightened them away, but the fact is we never saw them, After being worked up to the prospect of & stand-up fight with real brigands, I was deeply disappointed when it did not take place. But I may have more luck next time. Among the Indians. The Zutihile Indians were the strangest of all the tribes I encountered on my wanderings. The men of this tribe wore skirts of rough homespun wrapped round thero and jumpers, and are quite indistinguishable from the women of their tribe. The Mayans, last relics of a once mighty civilisation, are another race who interested me greatly. They are a degenerated people, who can scarcely feed themselves, to such an extent have they lost their initiative. And with them, as with other decaying peonies, the are finer and more intelligent than men. In the vast rains of one of the huge Mayan cities—which is really three cities, one built above the other—l feel more at ' home than in London. Tl • o is repose " ere. and the beauty of strange trees ana I Sowers snd insects. And, besides, the wno« groat city is mine by concession. VVlias i secrets tie beneath its masking overgrow !■ we have yet learnt only a fraction, II shall return!