A modern-day Treasure of the Sierra Madre -- long lost masterpiece paintings -- are bringing possibilities for income to a bone-dry Indian community urged on by an aging priest in northern Mexico. Based in Tucson, Jeff Biggers writes for the Pacific News Service, The Atlantic Monthly and Bloomsbury Review.

CUSARARE, MEXICO -- Down by a creek in this wind-swept canyon town, a cluster of Tarahumara men stirred a pool of mud and pine needles with splintered fence posts. Others poured buckets of the mixture into wood frames spread across a field. A pyramid of adobe sat to the side.

"Only 4,000 to go," someone mumbled.

The Tarahumara villagers are fabricating the blocks for the Museum of Cusarare, set to house what European art experts are calling "jewels" of Mexican art from the Baroque period. It is welcome paid work in a region where severe drought has made jobs scarce. Until disaster struck in the shape of a collapsed bell tower, the treasure of paintings sat unknown for years in this remote Sierra Madre village in northern Chihuahua.

"When the tower collapsed in 1967, I stored the paintings for safe-keeping," Father Luis Verplancken, S.J. recounted, standing in front of the Mission built in the 1730s.

After forty years of service, Verplancken himself, a lively septuagenarian, has become a legend in the Sierra Madre. Facing an astounding infant mortality rate among the Tarahumara, he established a health care clinic in the 1960s and watched the rate drop. He built a hospital, founded schools, launched well-digging campaigns, distributed corn and aid during drought and famine, and has served as one of the main defenders of Tarahumara culture.

In the early 1970s, the Cusarare community and the priest decided to rebuild the Mission and stone bell tower with funds donated by an American tourist. It was a chance to clean the paintings damaged by rain, dust and bird droppings. "They were so dirty," Verplancken said he "had no idea" what the paintings showed. After a first cleaning, the twelve big (five feet by seven feet) paintings began to reveal an exquisite chronicle of episodes in the life of the Virgin Mary, beginning with a dramatic representation of her birth.

Inside the cool Mission, Verplancken points at a name -- Padre Felix Merino 1826 -- engraved in a beams of the towering choir loft. The beam was the first clue in unraveling the mystery of the treasure of paintings, its date the year Merino rebuilt the old church. It was the l9th century priest who most likely procured the paintings from Mexico City, although exactly how they arrived in this remote outpost in a northern state remains a mystery. When Verplancken eventually hired a traveling artist to clean them, the date 1713 and signature of the artist, Miguel Correa, appeared on two of the works. Correa, a Mexican artist, was the teacher of the great colonial painter Miguel Cabrera. Verplancken revealed a matching signature of Correa's copied from records in Mexico City.

Verplancken searched for professional restorers, hampered by a lack of funds. Fortuitously, classical pianist Romayne Wheeler, an American who lives part of the year in a Tarahumara community, encountered two Czech restorers during one of his concert tours. Wheeler beseeched their assistance, and in 1992 the Czechs agreed to come to the Sierra Madre.

Restorers Jan Coufal and Hubert Cepissak wrote in their first report that the paintings were Baroque "jewels...master works of extraordinary grace."

"These paintings constitute a truly spectacular series of incomparable historical and artistic value," concurred William Merrill, Curator of Anthropology at the Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History in 1993, after viewing the collection.

Concerned with the conditions of the Mission, and fearing another robbery such as one which took two paintings in l973 (they were returned), Verplancken launched a collaborative effort with the Tarahumara; the Museum was proposed as a showcase for the Correa masterpieces, alongside traditional Tarahumara art and artifacts. Local community members have signed an agreement to provide security and maintenance.

In the midst of dry days and economic depression, income from the museum enterprise, such as that of making the adobe bricks, is especially welcome. Many Tarahumara try to support themselves through sales of traditional pottery, baskets and handicrafts, although the drought has forced many to seek work outside the region.

"We will not only get to put our work on display," said one village artisan, "but can hope our museum creates a way for us to stay in our community."