Why France Wants to Abolish Its "Land ofihz Living Dead'' I J*IB» m f*? ' j. m; I i npK K?% eSn* 6, Five convicts from Devil’s Island who escaped by sea to Trinidad, photo* graphed resting on their small boat. Convicts who reach Trinidad may remain there for a time, and then are permitted to push on to any other destination they select. EDITORS NOTE: This is the fourth of a series of six articles dealing with the history of, and conditions in, the famous French penal colony in Guiana. • * • PARIS. DEEP in their fevered hearts and grievance-ridden brains, 5000 convicts in France’s penal col ony ponder something which they fantastically call “La Belle”—the Beautiful. “La Belle” is not a pretty girl. “La Belle” is not wealth or position. “La Belle" is, simply and solely, escape Escape from jail, but, most of all, escape from hopelessness. Escape from the deadening limbo of the penal colony. There is little or no prevention of escape. The administration of the “b; gne” blinks. The guards or keepers let it go on. Secret fixers continue to collect the funds—for “La Belle” is not cheap. And convicts by the hundred yearly take the road to liberty, more likely to surrender or recapture, most likely of all to death. There are three general routes toward freedom from the big convict center at St. Laurent. One is across the Maroni river, and thence by land into the heart of the jungle. The Maroni is the boun dary between French and Dutch Gui ana. Maybe a stout-hearted convict can win through to the Dutch ports, even to British Guiana to the northwest, ev£n to Venezuela, beyond the Orinoco. The trouble with this route is the fundame tal hazard of the jungle. Beasts are in wait for the traveler. Snakes, even small snakes, can kill him with one thrust at his bare feet. Food is lacking. Fever is always present. Native tribes may be feared. The overland route is the crudest of all the cruel ways to freedom. Naked men can thrash about the jungles for a fortnight and suddenly find themselves back where they started. They move counter-clockwise; such is the law. So. often, they move in circles. By the end of 10 days the memory of the “bagne” is like a heaven to ex hausted, fever - ridden, forest - fogged wanderers. They deliver themselves up with joy The menace of the glooming trees and the enemies that they con ceal is too much. Hardly anybody finds “La Belle” at the end of a jungle trail. Not that the other routes are easy. It is calculated that only one man in 10 makes his getaway. The rest perish. They perish hard, by thirst, by sharks, by tempest, by starvation; or they re turn to try again. ||vr." Bhßßm' . . ... y_' • p43f"* r PHE second route needs help. And that means money. A coast trader, sailing his “tapouille” down ths meridians to Brazil, may pick up the occupants of a fragile canoe toss ing on the Atlantic billows beyond the mouth of the Maroni. He will sail the wanderers down to Para or farther. Then it is a case of looking sharp. If a convict has a trade, he is welcome. The third and classic route is to Ven ezuela via Trinidad. This is the normal sea route for small craft because the currents go that way. By the law of the “bagne," a pris oner’s time 14 his own from 5 o’clock in the afternoon until 5 in the morning. The tropic sundown comes sharp at 6. A group of convicts lounges down the village path at nightfall. A guard on duty gazes the other way. Probably he has been fixed. Presently a tiny craft forges out into Ihe great river from an obscure clump of bankside brush and begins to drift f/L&A mf&f II ts Oc^EJX - Many are the risks V - M ' *■ 65* -«. „ devils of the sea route of *’4er*f 7 ' ' rS ** «*_islano . r escape, and many '' Vitefc --. •' “~ r^rl °|>" - , ..... y U r { lose their lives in the ! R, T' S “ T Du7C “ \ FRENCH / attempt. The map , GUIANA GLI 1 ANA \ GUIANA • * SOUTH 'AMEHICA / shows the best route I ■■ —— ——J for such ventures. downstream. Only a helmsman is vis ible from shore, the innocent figure of a Chinaman, a native black, or some other lawful individual. The bulwarks hide whatever cargo the boat contains, crouching men, a meager store of food. Fugitives, reaching the mouth of the 'Maroni, may lie hidden for a few days to mystify or exhaust pursuit. Sooner or later, however, they must broach the sea to make for Trinidad. At sea the hell begins. Thirst, fever, hunger, shat tering heat beating on cramped space, and always looming the terrible might of the sea in storm. Innocent citizens of Trinidad, going their peaceful ways under a slumbrous moon, sometimes come upon a broken ribbed boat stranded on their beaches, filled with skeletons. Sometimes the skeletons are alive, barely alive. If so, they are lucky and will, for a few days or weeks, be luckier still, for Trinidad is more or less like a temporary garden of Eden for fugitives from Cayenne. Most dangerous way •of escape is via the “bush” and alliga tor-infested river of the Guiana jungle, as this photograph hints. r PRINIDAD is a British island. It has *• no use for convicts, but at the same time it has no particular desire to ac commodate the governor of France’s penal colony by sending them back. A technical charge of vagrancy is entered against them. Then charity and a benevolent spirit step in. Representa tives of the Howard Society, a species of Salvation Army dealing principally with convicts, welcome the strays. A new boat is fitted out, if necessary, and stores are contributed. Within a certain time—the limit of Trinidad’s hospitality —the fugitives embark agaift, better of! than before. Their first objective has been won. Their next is Venezuela. Why Venezuela? The reasons go back to the time when the late unlamented Juan Vicente Gomez was dictator there, and Venezuela lacked manual labor to handle its oil boom. Candidates for work were welcome. Today conditions are different. Ven ezuela does not receive the runaways from French Guiana any more. The police fire them back again. Maybe the news hasn’t reached the Maroni yet that Venezuela doesn’t give a man the chance to become a rich, re spected, gaudy resident, like the fab ulous Dr. Bougras. This Marseilles physician had been sentenced to the “bagne,” for the mur der of a long-time friend. He escaped to Venezuela. Soon people in France learned of Dr. Bougras’ escape and, what was more astonishing, of his appointment as physician to the late Dictator Gomez. He was lolling in influence, they heard, and the medical profession in Caracas was his debtor, his worshiper. The fact of the matter is that Ven ezuela has an excellent medical school in Caracas, that nobody in the country practices medicine without its permis sion, and that Dr. Bougras was rele gated to a tiny village on a small pearl island, where he earns a modest living. But for years to come, despite the facts, Dr. Bougras will live in the an nals of the French penal colony as the man who has most brilliantly w’ooed and won “La Belle”—that illusive, coy, and fatal demoiselle called Liberty. NF.XT WEEK: The tragic story of “Mavdra” and of the evil Roussenq.