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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2 - Sketches of a Cruise to the West Indies and the Spanish Main - -Author: Ida May Hill Starr - -Release Date: September 20, 2013 [EBook #43771] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES, V. 2/2 *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES - - VOLUME II. - - Travel Lovers' Library - - [Illustration] - - _Each in two volumes profusely illustrated_ - - Florence - By GRANT ALLEN - - Romance and Teutonic Switzerland - By W. D. MCCRACKAN - - Old World Memories - By EDWARD LOWE TEMPLE - - Paris - By GRANT ALLEN - - Feudal and Modern Japan - By ARTHUR MAY KNAPP - - The Unchanging East - By ROBERT BARR - - Venice - By GRANT ALLEN - - Gardens of the Caribbees - By IDA M. H. STARR - - Belgium: Its Cities - By GRANT ALLEN - -[Illustration] - - L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY - Publishers - 200 Summer Street, Boston, Mass. - -[Illustration: FROM OUR BALCONY - -CARACAS, VENEZUELA.] - - - - - GARDENS OF - THE CARIBBEES - - Sketches of a Cruise to the West - Indies and the Spanish Main - - By - Ida M. H. Starr - - IN TWO VOLUMES - VOL. II. - _ILLUSTRATED_ - - [Illustration: colophon] - - Boston - L. C. Page & Company - _MDCCCCIV_ - - _Copyright, 1903_ - By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY - (INCORPORATED) - - _All rights reserved_ - - Published July, 1903 - - Colonial Press - Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. - Boston, Mass., U.S.A. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - I. ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. "IERE" 11 - - II. ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. LA BREA 35 - - III. THE SPANISH MAIN 64 - - IV. IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS 101 - - V. IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS TO PUERTO CABELLO 125 - - VI. CURAÇAO. CITY OF WILLEMSTAD 153 - - VII. THE SOUTHERN CROSS 189 - -VIII. KINGSTON, JAMAICA 198 - - IX. "CUANDO SALIDE LA HABANA" 239 - - X. A MEMORY OF MARTINIQUE 247 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - -VOLUME II. - PAGE - -FROM OUR BALCONY, CARACAS, VENEZUELA _Frontispiece_ - -THE BARRACKS, THROUGH LIVE-OAKS AND MAHOGANY-TREES, TRINIDAD 17 - -GOVERNOR'S PALACE AND PUBLIC GARDENS, PORT OF SPAIN, TRINIDAD 21 - -ON THE WAY TO THE SAVANNAH, PORT OF SPAIN, TRINIDAD 31 - -THE BEACH OF LA BREA, TRINIDAD 39 - -ASPHALT FOR NORTHERN PAVEMENTS, PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 47 - -LOADING CARS, PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 53 - -A NATIVE WASHERWOMAN ON THE PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 57 - -WHERE THE MOUNTAINS MEET THE SEA, LA GUAYRA, VENEZUELA 65 - -CARACAS AND THE MOUNTAINS, VENEZUELA 75 - -EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 85 - -AN INTERIOR COURT, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 91 - -CATHEDRAL AND PLAZA, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 111 - -A HOUSE BESIDE THE SEA, PUERTO CABELLO, VENEZUELA 127 - -A SOUTH AMERICAN STREET, PUERTO CABELLO, VENEZUELA 149 - -ACROSS STE. ANNE BAY, HARBOUR OF WILLEMSTAD, CURAÇAO 157 - -SOME OF OUR FRIENDS AT WILLEMSTAD.--WHERE THE BASKET-WOMEN WAITED, -WILLEMSTAD, CURAÇAO 161 - -THE LANDING, WILLEMSTAD, CURAÇAO 165 - -A Jolly Dutch Port, Willemstad, Curaçao 173 - -A SNUG HARBOUR, WILLEMSTAD, CURAÇAO 185 - -KINGSTON, JAMAICA, FROM THE BAY 199 - -RIO COBRE, NEAR SPANISH TOWN, JAMAICA 203 - -A NATIVE HUT, JAMAICA 209 - -THE BOG WALK ROAD, NEAR SPANISH TOWN, JAMAICA 213 - -WHERE WE LANDED, KINGSTON, JAMAICA 223 - -EL MORRO, ENTRANCE TO HARBOUR, SANTIAGO DE CUBA 229 - -THE PLAZA, CIENFUEGOS, CUBA 233 - -THE GRAVE OF CERVERA'S FLEET, WEST OF SANTIAGO DE CUBA 237 - -THE WRECK OF THE MAINE, HAVANA HARBOUR, CUBA 241 - -CABAÑAS, LA PUNTA, AND HARBOUR ENTRANCE, HAVANA, CUBA 245 - -ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELÉE BEFORE THE ERUPTION, MARTINIQUE 249 - -ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELÉE AFTER THE ERUPTION, MARTINIQUE 253 - -RUE VICTOR HUGO BEFORE THE ERUPTION, ST. PIERRE, MARTINIQUE 257 - -RUE VICTOR HUGO AFTER THE ERUPTION, ST. 267 - - - - -Gardens of the Caribbees - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -ISLAND OF TRINIDAD, "IERE" - - -I. - -Had we known just a little more about Trinidad, it would have made a -great difference in that luncheon, but it all came out wrong because -some of us didn't know. Too late to influence us in the least, we read -in the _Daily Gleaner_, of Jamaica, that the beef sold in Trinidad is -exported alive from Venezuela. To be sure, we were aware that Venezuela -occupies a large part of the northern coast of South America, and were -conscious that Trinidad lies enclosed in a great bay of that coast, -called the Gulf of Paria, off the delta of the Orinoco River; also, in a -hazy way, we knew that the Spanish Main is a name applied somewhat -vaguely to that same South American coast--a relic of the days of -pirates, buccaneers, and freebooting English admirals; but we no more -expected to be served a roast of beef from the Spanish Main than a dish -of Boston baked beans from our castles in Spain. The two dimly -intangible names had ever borne a close comradeship in our minds, a -poetic association affiliated them in closest bonds. The same sun kissed -into rose tints the turrets of our castles in Spain and the lofty -summits of the Spanish Main. The same romance lifted them both away from -reality into that land just bordering upon the Islands of the Blest, and -much as we longed to materialise our dreams, and make the Spanish Main a -usable fact, when the opportunity came for us to do so, it slipped away -from us before we were conscious of its existence. - -Unaware that the illuminated postal-card _menu_ on the table at the -Queen's Park Hotel, Port of Spain, could in any sense lift the veil from -our enchantments, we read the following bill of fare: - - Mayonnaise of Fish, with Lettuce - Oysters _en Poulet_ - Scrambled Eggs with Asparagus Tips - Irish Stew - Haricot of Oxtail - Brain Fritters - Curry of Veal _à l'Indien_ - Boiled Turkey and Rice - Ham and Spinach - Fried Sausages and Potatoes - Salad - Assorted Cold Meats - String Beans Rice Mashed Potatoes - Macaroni _au Gratin_ - Chocolate Ice-cream Cakes - Cheese - -Eight of us sat down at a table on the veranda, white-walled, -white-ceilinged, and white pillared. A white-gravelled walk led out into -the white sun, through a stiff, boxed-in, English garden, stuffed with -plants in green tubs, and redeemed only by those natural things that -will grow and be beautiful in spite of all conventions. Thirsting for -cool ices and delectable fruits, looking wistfully for our vanishing -fancies of West Indian ambrosia, we turn in a listless, disappointed way -to that bill of fare, where ham and spinach and Irish stew and fried -sausages send our hopes a-scampering off like a lot of frightened -children. - -What man in his sane mind would order an haricot of ox-tail in the -tropics, when he needs but lift his hand for the food of Paradise; what -man, with any sense of the fitness of things, would eat curried veal, -when, for the asking, he might sup a libation fit for the gods? Alas! -The asking never brought it, and we--that is, one, at least--settled -down to scrambled eggs, and felt and looked unutterable scorn upon the -one next at table who began at mayonnaise of fish, and took every course -to cheese. Ah! friends, this was a case where the one who didn't know -fared ill. She lost her first opportunity of paying her respects to the -Spanish Main. - -Hungry and disillusioned, the one and the only thing to do is to forget -those steaming sausages and the Irish stew as quickly as possible. We -shall not stay here a moment longer. Hotels are makeshifts at the best. -Let us leave these unromantic, unscrupulous venders of ham and spinach! - -There, over yonder on the other side of the savannah, there is a -delicious retreat where we can make good our escape. - - -II. - -We shall never again see anything which can compare in beauty, of its -kind, with the _Jardin des Plantes_ of Martinique. No, we never -shall--still, we must be just to all. Trinidad's Botanical Garden is -beautiful in its own way, and we were impressed with the idea that it -possessed some features which that of Martinique lacked. However, that -might have been owing to the fact that we did not view the Martinique -Garden in its entirety. Had we done so, we might have found the same -species in both places. - -From casual observation there seemed to me to be one distinctive -characteristic of tropical vegetation; the trees did not appear to grow -so much in great social orders as do those of temperate zones. In the -North, vast families of the same species of trees gather together and -keep together with as rigid a pertinacity as any Scotch clan; the beech, -birch, oak, maple, pine, hemlock, walnut, hickory, all have their pet -homes and their own relations, and no amount of coddling or persuasion -will ever induce them to a wide change of _habitat_; but in the far -South, the tropical trees seem willing to settle anywhere in this land -of endless summer. Of course, one finds that certain trees love the -swamps, and others prefer the high lands; and some will grow in greater -magnificence in some places where the conditions are absolutely -congenial, than in other places where they are not so. There is the -mangrove; it loves the wet and the mire--the mosquito-ridden, miasmatic -river borders--and wherever, on these coasts, you find a swamp, whether -in the very hottest spots, or in others only moderately so, there you'll -find the mangrove sending out ærial roots, reaching down into the muck -for new strength, forming--banyan-like--a family of new trunks, all -under one leafy canopy, quite content if only it has the water about its -roots and a certain degree of heat. - -Away up there in Haïti, we find the ceiba, and down here in Trinidad it -is equally at home. These conditions make the formation of a botanical -garden, representing the world-growth of sunlit vegetation, peculiarly -favourable. Trinidad is said to possess the most superb collection of -tropical plants in existence; and though gathered from all lands, -growing not as strangers or even stepchildren, but as rightful heirs to -the immeasurable vital force which pours forth from a rich soil warmed -by a blazing sun the year around. - -[Illustration: THE BARRACKS, THROUGH LIVE-OAKS AND MAHOGANY-TREES - -Trinidad] - -The garden once entered, we pass a great, squarely built mansion, the -governor's residence, and are in the midst of a wonderful vegetation -from the first step. At the very entrance, we are greeted with, perhaps, -the most unique tree in these latitudes. - -After all, there is something stupefying in the effort to describe -tropical wonders. When they are passing before one's eyes, each has a -feature distinct to itself, which, in a way, is its own manner of -description. Each has its peculiar wonder, its own glory,--no two -alike--and yet, when one sits down to think it over, there is the same -old alphabet from which to draw new pictures, new miracles; and how to -make each different with the same letters is a question indeed. - -If I could only tell you the name of this particular tree which stands -at the entrance to the garden, you might some day hunt it up yourself, -but as I know neither its family nor home, we will let that all go, and -just tell you how it is dressed. - -It is a heavily, glossily leafed, symmetrical, low tree, just about the -size of those dear old cherry-trees we used to climb, oh, so long,--so -long ago! From the tip of every branch there drops a cord-like fibre -about a foot and a half long, and at the end of this little brown string -there hangs a cluster of delicate pink flowers. These are suspended in -almost exact length in rows from the lowest to the highest branch, and -it really seems as if Nature were experimenting to see what wonderful -living garlands she could create for a canopy above our heads. - - -III. - -The character of the garden is defined at once upon entrance. It is a -botanical garden, pure and simple, a place for strange plants from far -away, a sort of orphan asylum for everybody's vegetable baby. It is not, -like Martinique, an enchanted forest with cascades and glens fit for -nymphs and dryads; it is matter-of-fact, orderly, prim, and -businesslike. Aside from its unique trees, there is little to attract -one, so we decide for once it would be wise to engage a guide who can -tell us something about the inhabitants of the place, which otherwise -promises to be rather dull. - -[Illustration: GOVERNOR'S PALACE AND PUBLIC GARDENS - -Port of Spain, Trinidad] - -So we hunt up a crooked, stump-legged Portuguese gardener, by name -Manuel, who takes our heavy baskets, we following down a little glen -which grows at once quite dark and sweet and silent. - -Through long, freshly cut bamboo poles, streams of water are being -carried hither and thither to special spots in the garden, and we stop -to watch the trickling, and dip our hands down into its pleasant -coolness. Away up through the dark leafage, a mighty royal palm with -stern aristocratic grace swings and rattles its great, dead, brown -arms--the skeleton of its last year's growth--beneath the luxuriant -crown of this year's green plumes. - -In the thicket, we find the nutmegs, hiding among the delicate foliage -of a low-branching tree. Sister reaches among the leaves and pulls off -some of the fragrant fruit, and gathers many from the ground. A sense of -rare luxuriance comes over us. This gathering of the spices of life from -the very ground upon which we tread is intoxicating, and we just begin -to understand the causes back of those dark pages of West Indian -history, when man first partook of this delirium. - -These large-leafed, upright little trees are the Madagascar coffee, and -the smaller and more graceful ones, the Java coffee--how they take us -back to those happy days and months among the coffee plantations, long -ago!--and near by is the friendly banana, so common an object that we -pass its torn, drooping leaves with scarcely a thought, but it is worth -more than a passing glance, for there is no plant in all the tropics -more useful than the banana. It has not only delicious fruit of many -sizes and varieties, but it is also cooked as a vegetable, and forms one -of the chief sources of the native diet. It is planted, on account of -its heavy shade and quick growth, to shade the coffee, while trees of -slower growth and more permanent shade are maturing, thus forming a -necessary and temporary protection; it is also used for the same purpose -among the cacao trees. It is a sort of foster-mother to the cacao, to -care for the tender shrub until its real mother, "_La Madre del Cacao_," -can assume permanent care of its charge. The banana takes so little -vitality from the ground that, as protection to the coffee and cacao, it -is indispensable. We had some very delicious, green-skinned bananas at -several places, and found the small apple banana everywhere. - -Manuel leads us on, and stops under a spindling, tall tree, flowering -with dainty, pink buds of a delicious odour, and there's one branch just -low enough for Little Blue Ribbons to reach on tiptoe. Does it seem -possible that the little brown cloves, rattling in my spice-box at home, -could ever have been so fresh and soft and pink? Poor little mummies! - -And just see what we are coming to! Did you ever imagine there could be -such shade? It's a tree from the Philippines. We stoop to get under the -black leaves, and there the shade is absolutely impenetrable. What an -adjustment of things there is in this grand old earth of ours! - -My thoughts fly back to our Northern woods. I see the sinuously graceful -elms, with the sunlight streaming through their wide open branches upon -an earth longing for warmth; and long shafts of white noonday shooting -through the interstices of basswood, maple, and ash; the woods are not -black and sunless; they are translucently green, quivering with light -and needed warmth. But here, where the sun is a ball of redundant flame -the year around, Nature bequeaths to her children a shaded forest, -rigidly trunked, stolidly formed, thick-leafed, which no blazing sun can -penetrate or sweeping hurricane desolate. - - -IV. - -Quite as one strokes the head of a favourite animal, Manuel leads us to -an insignificant-looking tree, takes a branch caressingly in his hand, -brings out his clumsy knife, selects just the right spot, cuts off a -bit, and hands us a piece of camphor wood. - -Into the dear St. Thomas basket it goes, with the leaves of coffee, the -pink and white clove blossoms, and a long spray of _araucaria_ from the -Norfolk Islands,--a strange company, indeed! - -Yonder long yellow avenues are cinnamon and spice groves with -reddish-yellow bark, smooth as wax, casting slender shadows in the -golden light. Here is the shaddock, entirely weaned from its Malayan -home, and farther on a clump of low bushes, in among the nutmeg trees -and coffee, with small satin-like leaf, brings us to the herb that -"cheers but does not inebriate,"--the tea. - -Just see those glorious great lemons, glowing in the ever-splendid -sunlight, which transmits to every living object a radiance, a dazzling -brilliancy, in which life progresses and finally dissolves out of sheer -exhaustion from the exuberance of vitality. - -Oh, to our starved eyes of the North; to our senses benumbed by dreary -days of darkened sky, hearts chilled by bitterness of wind and gray, -unyielding frost, this never-ending, unspeakable sunlight, filtering -through the yellow vistas of clove and cinnamon, comes like the actual -presence of Apollo, the Shining One! We may, in unguarded moments, in -ungrateful moments, maybe, consider his embrace too positive, and we may -raise the white umbrella, but we never quite lose our rejuvenated love -for his golden glory. - -Manuel, but half-clad, looks as if he would dismember at any moment. His -trousers are hitched by a couple of old leathers, and his shirt looks -as if it wished it "didn't have to," and his old hat is only there on -sufferance, and his shoes--old flippety-flops--have dragged their -ill-shaped existence through many a weary mile. But Manuel doesn't care; -he loves his garden, and the sunshine and the luscious fruit, all his -children so well behaved and so obedient to his voice. He takes a bamboo -pole and gives one of the big, juicy lemons a rap, and down it falls on -Wee One's head with such a thump! Then Manuel is very sorry, and he -apologises for his child's misdemeanour in his funny, mixed-up -Portuguese-English-Spanish and the rest, and we understand and don't -mind a bit; in fact, we wouldn't care if more would fall in the same -way. - -Once upon a time, in the far-off golden days, when the Divine in -Creation had not been quite forgot, there came to this shore a band of -men,--not faultless, no, not faultless--but great men "for a' that," -who, with glittering cross aloft, christened this fair land after the -blessed Trinity. But this was not her first sacrament. Deep in the -eternal silence of the forest, the dweller in the High Wood had sought -expression of the divine through beauty, and chose a name from out the -radiant wilderness which would tell for ever of its wonderment: "Iere," -the land of the humming-bird, they called her--those dusky children of -the High Wood--and to this day she clings lovingly to her maiden name. - -We look about us. Where are the birds once peopling these forests, like -myriads of rainbows? Oh, sisters! members of Humane Societies! Hunt up -your old bonnets and see the poor little stuffed carcasses ornamenting -your cast-off finery! So Trinidad has been bereft of her wonderful -birds, and now there is but a name, a sad-sounding, meaningless -name--Iere--to tell of days which knew not the pride and cruelty of -women. - -Think of it!--at one time, there averaged twenty thousand humming-birds -a year exported from Trinidad to England alone! - -And now, well--there are none left to export. We must find new islands -to denude, to ravage, to desolate, for our adornment. But it's too -unpleasant,--this seeing things as they are; we'll hide the poor little -innocent card which the black woman gave us at the hotel; we'll cover up -the word "Iere" with these coffee leaves. There, now the spray of -_araucaria_, now the stick of camphor, and I think the lemon will fit -right in among the nutmegs. - -Come along, Manuel, we are ready; and we follow through the birdless -paths, down where the _Nux Vomica_ grows, and the pepper, and the lime -and the calabash, and the orange and breadfruit, and tamarind, and -pineapple; and we go on and wake up the comical lizards who scurry away -like brown flashes of whip-cord. What ridiculous creatures they are, and -how desperately frightened! Why, surely they must be fifteen inches -long, and fully four inches high, and what funny, nimble legs! They -start off in the same spasm-like way as do the toy lizards we buy for -the youngsters. - -Manuel brings us to the plant house where the great forest wonders of -the Far East are babied and loved into strength, and I could not but -think of Daudet's dear old _Tartarin of Tarascon_, dreaming by the -homesick little baobab-tree, which grew in his window-garden; and of the -long nights under the mellow moon of sunny France; and how he fought -great beasts and achieved great fame in the land of sweet illusion. - -[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO THE SAVANNAH - -Port of Spain, Trinidad - -Copyright. 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Dream on, Tartarin, wherever you may be! The time will come when it will -all be true, and you, too, will rest under the yellow splendour of the -golden trees; and the earth, the great Mother Earth, will open her heart -to you and breathe upon you the spirit of limitless possibilities! - -Good-bye, Manuel! The basket is heavy to carry with its spoils of fruit -and flowers; and we take "turn about" across the savannah. - -The races are on, and horses are dashing around the grassy turf, and the -Trinidadians are yelling, the cricket games are going, and the picnic -parties are gathering up their baskets for home; and the Hindoo girls -clamour to carry our basket, and we gladly give over the load to a tough -little head; and the merry-go-round wheezes out its squeaking tunes, and -we pass through the black crowd, and narrowly escape taking a cab, for -the way to the quay looks long, and we waver and weaken, and are just -about to give in, when up comes a tinkling tram, and we jump in, with a -penny to the Hindoo girl, and rumble away. - -The man with the two monkeys, and the man with the green and blue -parrot, and the boy with the shells, are still waiting. - -Alackaday! Where is the woman with the baskets? - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. LA BREA - - -I. - -We were led to believe, through various accounts from former travellers, -that the excursion to the Pitch Lake would be attended with considerable -discomfort and some hardships. - -After a run of about four hours from Port of Spain, Trinidad, we made La -Brea at two o'clock in the afternoon of a blistering hot day. Fully -one-third of the ship's company were frightened off, while the rest of -us made ready for the much-anticipated expedition. - -It was a funny-looking company that stood at the gangway, waiting for -the first boat ashore. - -Handkerchiefs took the place of collars and ties; coats and vests were, -for the most part, discarded, and all endeavoured to make themselves as -light in wearing apparel as possible. - -The Caribbean Sea, which had, until now, been ruffled only by the -regular sweep of the "trades," was badly tossed by a strong wind, so -that the embarkation in the ship's boat was to me unpleasantly exciting. -The sea was running so high that, in order to reach the boat without -being wet through, we had to gauge our time well and take the jump just -as the boat was lifted to the top of the wave. As we started down the -ship's ladder, with Little Blue Ribbons tightly holding Daddy's hand, -Sister having gone before in the whale-boat with friends, the ship's -mate begged us to leave the Wee One with him. He said the sea was too -rough and the landing too difficult; and besides he would take such good -care of her, and she should have ice cream, and be a little queen all -day,--if she would only stay. So, with some tears, and disdain for -ice-cream, Little Blue Ribbons remained on board; the only time in the -journey thus far when she was not one of the party. - -Had it not been for the confident man, who likes the water, and the -absurdity of the thing, I should have begged to be taken back to the -ship. - -We were in the second boat. The captain had arranged to have the launch -tow us ashore, but the launch--true to the traditions of "oil -engines"--had no intention of towing us ashore; it puffed and popped and -made a great fuss, but would not move an inch. The engineer lost his -steerageway, and it seemed every moment as if the great, clumsy thing -would crash into us; and there we lay, going up and down the side of the -ship, rolling from side to side, and bobbing from bow to stern, in a -very disagreeable situation for those who don't like that sort of thing. - -I know quite well that I was not the only one who would gladly have felt -himself safe on the solid decks of our ship. For once, the incessant -talking had ceased, and our boat-load of people sat there absolutely -quiet, thinking very hard. - -After numerous unsuccessful attempts to make the launch behave, they -gave up the attempt, manned our life-boat with six round-faced, -lubberly, German "jackies," each with a big oar, and went off -independently. - -I was heartily thankful not to have been assigned to the launch, for it -could not compare in sea-going qualities with the boat in which we were -placed. - -As I said, it was a long row to the landing, but we finally reached -smooth water, and disembarked at the end of a long bridge-like pier; -not, however, without some difficulty. - -We were still some distance from shore, which was reached by means of a -narrow board walk, carried along one side of the pier, and bridging over -the shoal water. - -At the quay, a big "down-east" schooner (thank Heaven, there are a few -American merchant vessels left!), two barks, and one full-rigged ship, -were being loaded with pitch, by means of great steel buckets, -travelling on an endless wire cable, which went from the end of the -pier, up an incline, to the works on the hill, near to the great deposit -of pitch beyond. - -[Illustration: THE BEACH OF LA BREA - -Trinidad] - -This ship at the pier was the first full-rigged merchant ship we had -seen during the cruise--most merchantmen seeming now to be rigged as -barks or barkentines--and was, even in spite of its black cargo, a -beautiful sight. There is something in the look of a ship--its mass -of rigging, its straight yard-arms, well set up, its black, drooping -sails, half-furled, its inexplicable riddle of shrouds and stays and -braces and halliards and sheets--that always stirs my soul mysteriously. -Black as this vessel was, prosaic as was her cargo, unsightly the hands -that loaded her, she was a picture. By right, she should have carried -teas, and spices, and silks, and jewels; but she was worthy of -admiration despite her humble calling. - -Once on land, we realised, looking up the long, black hill ahead of us, -and feeling the heat from a blazing sun directly overhead, that the walk -would be a hard one, and that we must go slowly, in order to make it -with any degree of comfort; but walk we must, or stay on the beach. - -The pitch was in evidence immediately. Reefs of hard asphalt ran through -the sandy beach into the sea. The hill was covered with asphalt, and -down near the shore it lay in great wrinkles, where, when the road was -being made, it had overflowed and taken to the hedgeway. It was apparent -under the grass and weeds, around the roots of trees, and in the banana -groves; in fact, there was pitch everywhere, black, oozing, and dull. - - -II. - -Up the hill laboured the little procession of red-faced adventurers, in -all conditions of negligée. The large lady from Kansas puffed and -sweated and mopped her face; the doctor vowed we would die of sunstroke; -the mother and her daughter, from Boston, made the ascent as their -ancestors had stormed Bunker Hill, with features rigid and teeth set; -our neighbour at table, who had been thrice around the world, wondered -what on earth we would think of Manila in the summer-time if we called -this hot; our jolly, delightful friend from New Haven laughed us all the -way up the hill, and said he was suffering with the cold; the German -baron, under his green umbrella, passed us with the superb stride -acquired from his sturdy ancestors and his military training; down the -hill back of us straggled on the rest of the company: the little women, -the tall women, the lean ones, the fat ones, urged and supported by -long-suffering husbands and brothers and friends who mopped and fanned -furiously. - -There were hats of all descriptions: white East Indian helmets built of -pith and lined with green, deliciously light, cool things; and all -conceivable shapes of Puerto Rican hats, of a pretty, fine white palm -"straw," very much like the Panama; and hats from Haïti; and French hats -from Martinique; and then there were Puerto Rican sailor hats, one of -which I wore with great pride. Our shoes were the heaviest we had, and -our clothing the oldest and lightest available. - -Thus all marched on in broken file, with very hot faces, and shaded by -all manner of outlandish umbrellas, over the hot asphalt to the Pitch -Lake. - -As our little party plodded along, going so slowly it hardly seemed as -if we were making any progress at all, my courage began to wane -somewhat, for I remembered most vividly a similar day on the island of -Capri, when I had been overcome by the sun, and in consequence of which -had suffered many months after. With this in my mind, we stopped at a -shanty half-way up the hill, where we saw some bananas growing, tore -off part of a leaf, and asked for some water of a negress, who was one -of many watching the procession with great amusement. In fairly good -English she told me not to wet the head; in fact, by her vociferous -rejection of our plan, we were led to believe that it would be dangerous -to carry it out at all, so we threw away the leaf, and worked on up the -blistering highway to the top of the hill. - -There was not a bit of shade in sight. To right and left, rank weeds and -cacti grew in wild confusion, and with the exception of a few banana -groves, and the huts of negro labourers farther down, there was nothing -of a shade-producing nature along the road. The asphalt was so hot to -the feet that we broke company, and took to single file in among the -weeds on the edge of the road. - -As we approached the summit of the hill, a fine breeze gave us new -courage, and the sight of the Pitch Works, not far distant, dissolved -our fears of the heat into most absorbing interest of the great -phenomenon coming into view. An endless train of buckets, which led the -way up the long ascent, on a wire rope supported at short intervals by -large sheaves on iron pillars, went squeaking along, one row down to the -dock, full of great chunks of pitch, and the other back, empty, to be -filled and started on its round again. - - -III. - -I looked ahead as far as I could, and located our fellow voyagers, now -here, now there,--white dots on the strangest landscape I had ever seen. -I sat down on a barrel of pitch under the welcome shade of a rough shed -in the power-house, and had my first glimpse of the great lake. - -Why it has been called a "lake," I fail to discover; it was probably -named thus by the English. In that case, the matter is explained; it is -called a lake because it is not a lake at all. The Englishman never -seems to understand that the object to be named ought to bear some -slight relation to its appellative. He decides upon a name, and the -unfortunate victim has to fit himself, herself, itself, into its new -form as best he can. If this curious deposit had been called the "Pitch -Bed," there might have been some reason in the naming; some, possibly -not all, but some of the existing physical conditions would have been -suggested to the mind, and the traveller might thus have been able to -form an approximate idea of the phenomenon before seeing it. - -Instead of a lake, you see a vast, flat, fairly smooth, black surface of -pitch, with only here and there small pools of water,--in places, -yellowish; in places, clear,--intersecting the black surface in all -directions. Sometimes they enlarge, and, uniting, cover the surface -quite a distance, and in the centre several feet deep; and again the -intersecting, stream-like pools shrink to mere threads, but, as I said, -the general aspect of the Pitch Lake is a flat, solid, black surface, -covered occasionally with water, the water being only in the crevices -between great masses of pitch that have pushed up from beneath. - -[Illustration: ASPHALT FOR NORTHERN PAVEMENTS - -Pitch Lake, Trinidad] - -We were as yet unconvinced of its carrying qualities, and, not wishing -to run the risk of getting stuck in the pitch, we waited the approach of -one of the trains of little cable-cars, running from the works out on to -the lake, which we could see coming toward us. The brakeman is good -enough to stop, and we pile into the ridiculous little steel cars and -hang on as best we can, while we are sent flying down over a -narrow-gauge track, laid on top of the pitch, to the place where most of -the digging is going on. - -Here a great crew of black men--black as the pitch in which they -stand--with bare feet, all with picks, dig out the wonderful formation, -which breaks off in great brittle pieces. Seeing these men so fearlessly -defying the forces of nature, we gained confidence, and stepped out of -the buckets on to the surface of the so-called "lake;" and although our -feet would sink in a half-inch or so when we stood still, we found that -we could walk everywhere with perfect safety, with the exception of a -few places where the surface seemed to be in big bubbles and disposed to -crack and break away under us. - -It was remarkable to me that the pitch is both viscous and brittle at -the same time. When standing still, the water--thick and yellow, with a -sulphurous odour--would ooze up about the feet and form new rivulets, -which, uniting, would trickle into some near-by pool. There were -innumerable small, crater-like openings, some like air-bubbles in the -sea beach, others, deep, black holes, two and three feet in diameter, -but no appearance of heat or fire. All over the lake, small springs of -yellowish fluid were constantly bubbling up into the pools. The supply -of pitch is apparently inexhaustible, for, after a great trench has been -dug out along these temporary tracks, some four feet deep, and many rods -wide, by the next day the hole will again be so far filled that the -mining goes on as before. - -The manager told us that it had not been found necessary to change the -tram tracks for two years, that the level of the pitch fell only seven -inches last year, after immense amounts had been removed for shipment. - -The depth of this deposit is not known. It has been sounded a number of -times, but it seems to be impossible to find the bottom. I do not know -the exact dimensions of the lake, but, making a rough estimate, should -say that it is half a mile wide, and about a mile long; its extent is -said to be about one hundred and ten acres. The great asphalt deposit in -Venezuela, which has been the cause of so much recent trouble,--through, -I am sorry to say, the quarrels of two American companies,--is thought -by some to be shallower than the one of La Brea, although it is -apparently much larger, being in the neighbourhood of ten miles in -circumference. This Trinidad pitch is also worked by an American -company, under concession from the British Colonial Government. - - -IV. - -It seemed to me that I had never before seen such black pitch or blacker -"niggers." They were a good-humoured lot of men, making no complaint of -the heat, although they worked untiringly, bare-footed, in the hot, -oozing pitch. - -We stopped one fellow, about as black and tattered a figurehead as we -could find, and told him we wanted his picture. He was perfectly -delighted, and struck a very fetching attitude. After the button had -been pressed, we gave him a bit of silver, and then came a howl from a -dozen others for a similar opportunity, all posing for us as fancy -struck them. Seeing that we were obdurate, the fortunate holder of the -silver doubled up with a tremendous laugh, and I can yet see before me -his two rows of glistening white teeth and his wreck of a hat and his -rag of a shirt, and his bepatched breeches. His laugh so exasperated the -others, that one, an elderly gentleman who wore grand side whiskers, -shouted out in tones of deepest sarcasm: "Guess I'd git my picture took, -too, Sam, if I was such a orangoutang as you is!" It seemed as though -they would come to blows, but, had I known the good-humoured blacks -better, I should have had no fear, for their battles, fierce as they -seem, are only words, and usually end in a laugh. - -There are two kinds of pitch: one, pure pitch, dead black, was loaded in -the small cars, and the other, of a light brown colour, was carried off -in dump-carts, drawn by mules. This black pitch forms the basis of all -our asphalt pavements, and such a deposit must be worth millions to the -_concessionaires_. - -Now, when did this mighty process begin, and what internal force is at -work producing this continual outpouring upon the earth's surface? - -[Illustration: LOADING CARS - -Pitch Lake, Trinidad] - -At the farther end of the lake, women and young girls were busy -gathering pieces of wood which were thrown up out of the pitch. I do -not claim to understand this marvellous phenomenon. I would rather put -the question to those of you who have access to the wisdom of libraries, -and give you the privilege of bringing some light upon these strange -manifestations of God's unknowable. As I understand it, pitch is -obtained from tar, boiled down, and tar is a black, viscous liquid -obtained by the distillation of wood and coal, so this residuum which we -see is the third step in one of Nature's great caldrons; a process -millions of years in forming, a process still in operation. - -Is this wood which is continually coming to the surface of the lake an -unused part of that vast primeval forest which was when time did not -exist; when chaos was revolving into form? How long has it been -wandering, and what force is it which sends it thus unharmed, save for -the loss of bark, out again into the light? - -Some very strange implements and tools, recognised as South American -workmanship of a remote day, have come to the surface of this lake, and -one theory for their appearance is, that they have been drawn under the -Gulf of Paria, and up through the lake of La Brea by some unseen, but -mighty power from the lake of pitch in Venezuela, of which this is -supposed by some to be the outlet. - -The wood, gathered by the women, is not petrified, but merely -impregnated with the pitch, and has all its original qualities as when -it first left the parent stem, with, however, the additional affinity -for fire which its pitchy bath would naturally give. - -We were much entertained by the women and children, who stood knee-deep -in the fresh pools at the further end of the lake, doing the washing. -The clothes were laid out on the pitch to dry, and the naked babies -rolled around on the black stuff quite as much at home as our babies are -on the clean nursery floor. The women had on but very little clothing, -or none,--and some of the girls and boys, fourteen and fifteen years of -age, were entirely nude. One young girl, as we approached, modestly hung -a little fluttering rag about her loins, and, thus clothed, was not -ashamed. - -[Illustration: A NATIVE WASHERWOMAN ON THE PITCH LAKE - -Trinidad] - -I have seen more immodesty on the floor of a modern ballroom than ever -from the bare bodies of these black women. But terrible as the -stories are which one hears of the immorality of the West Indies, I feel -that here the evil is less heinous in the coloured races on account of -the primitive nature and conditions of a half-savage people. -Unfortunately this great and degenerating danger to the white -inhabitants is ever present. The pitch lake foreshadows the terrible -conditions of the people in Trinidad and Jamaica; the continual welling -up of this black mass suggests the doom which awaits these beautiful -islands, unless a giant hand is put forth to save them. - -The difficulties of this excursion have been much exaggerated. To be -sure, we had a long walk, but we also had a good breeze most of the way, -and our fellow traveller who, in spite of all warnings, had worn his -immaculate white suit, came off without spot or blemish, notwithstanding -the old proverb about "keeping away from the pitch." - - -V. - -Hot and tired, I left the party, who wished to make the entire circuit, -and took my way over the yielding pitch, over the sulphurous yellow -puddles, until I finally came to the grateful shade of the power-house. -A rickety old carryall looked very inviting, and in no time I had -ensconced myself therein, and leaned back in full anticipatory enjoyment -of a restful quarter of an hour. - -As I sat there, looking out over the distant sea,--for I was on the brow -of a hill,--gradually the unsightly power-house, the pitch cars, the -little huts where bananas were sold, the native shanties, the long, -narrow bridge, even the rim of the canopy above my head, seemed to fade -away into nothing. The ships at anchor had slipped their cables and were -gone; the iron pier, with its busy life, had disappeared; all had -changed, vanished. It was silent, ghostly. - -Then, out of nothing, out of dimness, there came a moving, a forming, a -changing, and I became conscious that I was no longer alone, but that a -company, great and illustrious, was assembling by ship-loads upon the -beach of La Brea; and that, without word or confusion, five ancient, -lofty-sterned, lumbering craft, and a quaint little caravel, lay bow-on -to the strand, while one was already being careened on her side in the -shoal water of the beach by cumbersome tackle fast to her thick -mastheads. Their huge, clumsy hulks were gray with time; their gaping -seams told of hot, blistering suns, and upon their decks there lay an -array of guns and armament, crudely ancient and unwieldy. Silent men -were noiselessly moving about at the command of one most beautiful to -behold, in scarlet cloak, and silken hose and doublet of rare elegance, -with hat beplumed, and glittering sword, who walked amongst the company -as a king. - -To and from the ship there moved a ghostly procession of grimy sailors, -carrying pitch to the beach, where fires were burning, and the venerable -three-deckers were being daubed with the smoking fluid, and made ready -for the high seas. - -It was a merry company, in truth, of lords and gentlemen, and scholars, -too, who came upon my vision, and wonderingly my eyes followed the -gallant leader. It seemed to me that I could all but catch his words. He -spoke with a poet's grace, so full of charm and so deliberate, so -courtly was his address. His face once turned, I knew him to be -English. His fair skin was burned by deep-sea voyaging; his pointed -beard just touched the lace of a deep, white ruff, and over his shoulder -hung a plume, white and curling. In all my life, I had never seen so gay -a gentleman, and I could not get my fill of looking and of wondering. - -Could it be that this great company were the revivified followers of the -dauntless Sir Walter Raleigh, searching, centuries ago, for _El Dorado_? -And it came to me, in that curious mixing of past and present, of which -dreams are made, "Does Sir Walter, with all his wisdom, suspect that -here, where he pitches his ships, is to be the great gold mine--some -later man's _El Dorado_--while he eagerly sails away in futile quest of -golden sands that are always just beyond his reach?" - -I lifted myself to strain my farthest sight, when lo! all was gone; -galleons, gentlemen, scholars, sailors, even the little caravel--all! -The sun was beating down upon the black road, the air was blistering; -negroes were weighing the buckets of pitch, and the machinery clanked, -with deafening indifference, through the quivering air; and up from -behind a clump of bushes a red bow, atop of a well-known white hat, -chased away the phantoms of long ago. I took off my dark glasses, rubbed -my eyes, and, half-dazed, stepped from my enchanted carryall. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE SPANISH MAIN - - -I. - -Steaming out of the Gulf of Paria the day before, away from the muddy -water of the Orinoco, we had come again through the Dragon's Mouth, -close to that long, eastward-pointing finger of South America that forms -one side of this famous gateway, back into the welcome Caribbean Sea. -Thence through the night we skirted the South American coast, passing -the celebrated pearl-fishing island of Margarita--"The Pearl"--where it -was said that a German gunboat with covetous eye had these many months -been making careful surveys and taking elaborate soundings--so -forehanded, you know! And now we were at anchor in the roadstead of La -Guayra, the seaport of Caracas. - -[Illustration: WHERE THE MOUNTAINS MEET THE SEA - -La Guayra, Venezuela] - -Leaning over the rail of the white ship, early in the dawning of that -day, it came to me over and over again that we were at last in the -presence of the great West Indian Mother, and that her face was in truth -an exact realisation of our imaginings. - -A strong breeze blew the waves fast and loose, one upon another, to the -near-lying shore, where a white line of surf circled about a rounding -promontory, and lost itself on the other side of the cliff. Up and -beyond, rose the mountains, and some one said: "The Andes!" and we -looked again, and longer, and said to ourselves--"The Andes,--South -America, we are looking upon them with actual eyes!" - -Up, and still up, rose the mountains; great, tender lines of undulating -softness, all green and blue and gentle and grand, one sweep upon -another of matchless warm tints; one sweep upon another of voluptuous -curves in billowy green, and dropping in and about the contour of the -great continent's majestic form, far disappearing valleys swept into the -dimness of soft, shadowy depths. - -Like a great mother, asleep, spread with a coverlet of the changing -tints of malachite and beryl, South America lay before us. - -Clambering up her skirts were the little white roofs of La Guayra, spots -on her verdant garment,--irregular spots here, there, and everywhere; -now in patches, comfortably huddling together at her feet; now stray -offshoots away beyond. All very square and very Spanish were these -houses, very quaint to look upon; and if this is La Guayra, where is -Caracas? Must we, too, clamber and climb away into those mountain -heights, and, perchance, awaken the Great Mother, who sleeps so gently -under the drowsy lullings of the deep sea? - - -II. - -Things are moving on the shore, and in the distance dots like men and -women stir about the tiny houses, and a toy train toots, and toy engines -rattle, and toy cars seem filling with toy people; and we think it time -to go ashore and see if we can find a seat in one of those cars; so we -run up forward, where our impatient fellow voyagers have been hurrying -into the launch this long time. It has just puffed away, and we are -really glad. - -There is something very like the "stray sheep" in our make-up. It is -Americanism boiled down,--this love of going alone, and being -self-reliant. - -A beamy shore-boat is engaged at one _bolivar_ apiece (negotiations -having been started on a basis of five _bolivars_ apiece, charged by the -boatmen), and we have plenty of room for all, even the Doctor, who is -going with us (for he was just too late for the launch--perhaps, with -malice aforethought); and so we row to the stone steps of the quay of La -Guayra, the port of Caracas, our first landing on the "Spanish Main." - -We have left the land of what we supposed to be our mother tongue, and -are come to a country where we can really be understood, or -misunderstood, according to our abilities to express ourselves, in a -language more constant than English. I take a mental stock, and find -four Spanish phrases which did not fail me in Santo Domingo, and shall -not fail me here. Besides I have been practising them since then! With -these I can fare sumptuously: - -_¿Cuanto cuesta?_ (How much does it cost?) - -_¿Qué hora es?_ (What o'clock is it?) - -_¡Mucho bonito!_ (Very beautiful!) - -_Yo no entiendo._ (I do not understand.) - -This, with a few nouns sprinkled in, was my vocabulary; but I had no -fears,--had we not our own interpreter? - -And the big, strong oars brought us to the landing. Then we girls, in -charge of the Doctor, were stood up in the shade of a warehouse, where -we watched the white uniformed South Americans, struggling with our -obdurate men for their landing charges--for here they charge for the -right to land. Then the men disappeared with the bags, and we waited -what seemed to us a very long time, until, with one consent, we just -thought we wouldn't stay put another minute; so the Doctor takes the -lead with his big white Indian helmet jammed over his eyes, and Little -Blue Ribbons and Sister raise a fine cloud of dust, running on ahead. -But we older ones know what it means to be in La Guayra, so we follow on -very leisurely. On the way, we meet an excited messenger already sent to -hurry us to the train. - -La Guayra is said to be the hottest place about the West Indies, and I -could well imagine how the Great Mother would have to fan her little -white children, when they once really felt the breath of the -unconscionable sun; but, as we walked along, even though the sun had -climbed a few steady hours, we found it far from uncomfortable, even -carrying our heavy satchels, and the white umbrella, besides. - -Along a dusty and sun-stricken water-front, disfigured with railroad -tracks, and low warehouses, we came to the station, where the men, -triumphant, were impatiently waiting, after sending out their belated -relief expedition. Tickets had been bought, gold pieces divided up into -fascinating silver pieces, called _bolivars_ (in honour of the great -South American liberator--accent on the second syllable, if you please), -and all in our lord and master's own Spanish, of which we were justly -proud; and then we find places in the train, and in a few moments after -our arrival we jerk out among the white houses. - -It was a clever bit of forethought--that move of ours to hunt up the -men. Had we not done so, we could never have caught the early morning -train, for the messenger was slow, and we would have become merely a -part of the hot and dependent crowd on the later "special." It's better -sometimes _not_ to stay where you're put. - -We move along at a good pace among the gardens of La Guayra,--rather -sparse gardens they are,--and then we climb to the balconies, and then a -turn and we are hiding about the Great Mother's green petticoats; and -anon we pass up to the roofs of La Guayra,--which reach out like a white -sombrero over the little people below. - -Then the pull begins. Two powerful, stocky, low-built, narrow-gauge -mountain engines haul us along with apparently no effort, up into the -mountains, up a grade which seems to grow steeper every minute. Our men -say that the average grade is over four per cent. I can't see how it is -that men know all these things about grades and percentages. It seems -like such a lot of plunder to lie around in the brain. But--about such -trifles--men must know and women must ask, and that's all there is to -it. - -It is a continuous twisting and turning and winding, seldom on a level -stretch; it's up, up away from the sea from the very start. Now, we are -far above the tree-tops of the town, and our white ship out in the -harbour lies motionless, and seems far away. We wonder at the courage -of the people who would dare so great a feat of road-building, and grow -doubly curious to see the city, hidden beyond in the clouds of the -mountain. - - -III. - -La Guayra lies just above sea-level. In two hours, we must climb over -the Great Mother's back, going thirty odd miles to reach Caracas, which -lies at an elevation over three thousand feet in a valley, only six -miles in an air line from La Guayra. - -Up, up into the thin vapours, into regions of other trees still higher, -whose tops again we pass amongst. The sun is hazy through a translucent -veil of mist, and far away, the white horses of the sea dance up against -the shore and out of sight, and the white sombrero drops beneath an -emerald cloak, and everything but the sky is shut out. - -We jump first to one side of the car and then to the other, for the -sea-view and for the mountains. We are whirled around quick curves, and -all but lose our feet; and some of us--even men--get dizzy looking at -the drop below us; and then we cut through the mountain and hurry on up -the steep climb until the plucky little engine decides to stop, and we -are told that we have reached the summit; and we hurry from the cars and -feel the sweet coolness of the mountains, and the actual presence of the -Great Mother. - -We stand close together on the brink of a chasm and look tremulously -into the depths of her great heart; down, down, a thousand feet and more -of living, breathing green, into every hue of purple and blue, deepening -into black near the far-off valley, and disappearing into azure among -the clouds,--silence, shadow, tenderness, sublimity, overspread by the -ineffable loveliness of morning. - -We are moving again, and now it is down, gradually, for Caracas lies a -thousand feet below the summit. We follow along a white highroad, the -mountain trail from Caracas to the sea. Now we are on its level; now we -leave it. Long trains of pack-mules make a cloud of gray dust against -the green, and here and there a red blanket thrown across a burro's back -brings a delicious bit of life and colour into the passing scene. - -[Illustration: CARACAS AND THE MOUNTAINS - -Venezuela] - -Now we seem to be on the level, and scurry along at a great rate; and -soon there spring up out of the brown earth _adobe_ houses (the first we -have seen since we were in Mexico), and here are more and yet more, and -there, ah! that must be Caracas, the great Venezuelan capital, the -habitation of over one hundred and fifty thousand people! - -But, shall we say it? Must we be honest at the expense of all else? The -approach to Caracas is a disappointment. There is scarcely any kind of a -habitation which gives a landscape quite such a distressful look as the -_adobe_ hut. Built of sun-dried mud blocks, it gives off an atmosphere -of dust with every whiff of wind. It comes to our mind always with the -thought of dry barrenness, heat, sun, dust, shadeless fields of maguey, -prickly _nopals_, broad sombreros, and leather-clothed _rancheros_. And -to see the suburbs of a great city, the outlying habitations, in gray, -crumbling _adobe_, makes an unpleasant impression, in spite of the fact -that, from the distance, we catch a quick glimpse of a peaceful -campanile and high, imposing roofs a bit beyond. There's only time for a -suggestion, but that suggestion biassed all our later impressions. We -steam into the station and begin to pick up our traps and make for the -carriages. - - -IV. - -As we said before, the spirit of independence gained supremacy, when we -were once fairly upon the Spanish Main. Out of many, a few of us escaped -the tourist agent. A courier had been sent from New York, and at every -port we had the privilege of availing ourselves of his guides, -carriages, meal tickets, _et cetera_, if we wished to do so; and for -some it was certainly a great advantage, for, unless one knows some -French and Spanish, one is at the mercy of every shark that swims, and -these waters are full of them, as are all others for that matter. - -We found the prices very high everywhere, with few exceptions; equally -high for poor accommodations as for the better, the reasons whereof, for -the present, must be left unexplained. Suffice it to say, that the -American is his own worst enemy. Nine-tenths of our party thought it -would be unwise to go through South America from La Guayra to Puerto -Cabello on their own responsibility; so our little group were the only -ones to experience the joy and excitement of an independent tour through -a strange country, where English--good, honest, live English--is a rare -commodity. - -The Doctor, and Mr. and Mrs. M---- from Boston, and Daddy were keen for -the experience. I was afraid we might be left away down in South -America, with no train to carry us on from Caracas, for "the personally -conducted" were to have a "special," but my fears were finally allayed -by constant assurances of safety; so independence carried the day. - -Once inside the Caracas station, Daddy disappears, and, after a bit, we -see him beckoning to us from in among a crowd of vehicles, all very -comfortable and well-appointed, and we sidle along among the noisy South -American cabbies, and jump into the selected carriage. - -Now, what was said to the cabby, I'll never know; but we were no sooner -in that carriage than the horses started on a dead run, rattlety-bang, -whackety-whack, jigglety-jagglety, over stones and ruts, through the -city of Caracas. Up the hill we tore, and all I could see from under -the low, buggy-like canopy was the bottom of things sailing by in a -cloud of dust. Every now and then we struck a street-car track on the -wrong angle, and off we would slew, still on the run, with one wheel in -the track and the other anywhere but in the right place, for half a -block or so, and then no sooner well under way again, than we would all -but smash to pieces some peaceful cab, jogging toward us from the -opposite direction. A train of donkeys, coming from the market, on the -way home to the mountains with empty baskets, narrowly escapes sudden -death at our furious onslaught; and I can yet hear their little feet -pattering off and the tinkle of the leader's bell, as his picturesque -little nose just misses our big clumsy wheel. In a jumble we see the -small feet of the passers-by, and so we jerk along until all at once we -stop with a bump at the _Gran Hotel de Caracas_. - -There we wait in the garden while our recklessly independent men seek -lodgings. None to be had! Off we gallop toward another inn, catch -glimpses of a square, stop again, wait in the carriage, and find the -standing still very delightful. In a few minutes, our bold leaders -return with the look we know so well,--jubilant and hopeful. Beautiful -rooms, fine air, clean beds, sumptuous parlours, and all that,--you know -how it reads. - -We enter the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. - - -V. - -May I be forgiven if I leave the path of calm discretion for once, or -how would it do to leave out the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ altogether, -and turn the page to where the mountains begin? But, you see, if we -leave out the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_, we should have to leave out -Caracas, and that would never do at all. - -There was one member of our party who never sat down to a meal that he -did not declare it was the finest he had ever eaten in his life. This -faculty of taking things as they come, conforming gracefully to the -customs of a country, is, perhaps,--next to unselfishness,--the most -enviable trait in the traveller. Well might it be applied, as we begin -the search for our rooms in the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. We climb a -wide, winding, dirty stairway, pass through the sumptuously dusty -parlour, up another flight of the same kind, only narrower and dustier -and darker. An English housekeeper leads the way, and some one exclaims -(Oh, the blessed charity of that soul!): "How pleasant to find a neat -English woman in charge of the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_!" - -It has never been clear to me just what state of mind could have -inspired that remark; whether it was a momentary blindness, occasioned -by the mad drive, or a kind of temporary delirium, from the sudden -consciousness of power over perplexing foreign relations; or whether it -was merely the natural outburst of an angelic disposition, I could never -quite make out. But those are the identical words he used: "How pleasant -to find a neat English woman at the head of affairs in the _Gran Hotel -de Venezuela_." - -The "neat English woman" had dull, reddish, grayish hair, stringing in -thin, stray locks from a lopsided, dusty knot on the top of her head. -She had freckles, and teeth that clicked when she smiled. A -time-bedraggled calico gown swung around her lean bones, and at her side -she carried a bunch of keys, one of which she slipped up to the top into -a wobblety door, and ushered us into our "apartments." - -The "neat English housekeeper" fitted into that room to a dot. It was -gray, and red, and wobblety, and she was gray, and red, and wobblety. - -If it hadn't been for the everything outside, away beyond the balcony -(for, thank Heaven, no Spanish house is complete without one!), no -amount of philosophy could have atoned for that room. It was simply -white with the accumulated dust of no one knew how long. Our shoes made -tracks on the floor, and our satchels made clean spots on the bureau. -Two slab-sided, lumpy beds suggested troubled dreams. Two thin, -threadbare little towels lay on the rickety, dusty wash-stand, and an -old cracked pitcher held the stuff we must call water. A thin partition -of matched boards dividing ours from the next "apartments," rattled as -we deposited our things in various places which looked a little cleaner -than the places which were not so clean. - -Had it not been for the balcony, we could never have endured it; though -we had put up in queer places before. We had not even the satisfaction -of leaning on the balcony rail; it was too dusty. But we could stand, -and we did stand, looking out over and beyond the picturesque buildings, -to the everlasting hills, to the Andes, their lofty summits encircling -us like an emerald girdle, with calm La Silla thousands of feet above -all. - -Below us lay the city and the Square of Bolivar, with the bronze statue -of the great Liberator in the centre, in the midst of a phalanx of -palms, rising above the dust and the glaring white walk. - - -VI. - -To the left, the Cathedral, one compensation at least for all the rest. -What combination of characteristics is it that makes the Spaniard such a -marvellous builder, and, at the same time, such a wretched maintainer? -He builds a Cathedral to be a joy for all time; its lines fall into -beauty as naturally as the bird's flight toward its nest. Whatever he -builds, he builds for posterity; simply, beautifully, gracefully. Even -his straight rows of hemmed-in city houses have a touch of beauty about -them somewhere; and in the Cathedral, his true artistic sense finds -full expression. Close at hand the noble Campanile, swung with ancient -bells, watches in serene dignity and beauty the moving, streaming life -below. Sweet lines, harmonious to the eye, lift the Cathedral from the -hideous dirt and unkempt streets; from the whirling dust and circling -buzzards, to a sphere of forgetfulness, where beauty struggles for the -supremacy she holds with royal hand so long as we continue to gaze -upward. - -[Illustration: EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR - -Caracas, Venezuela] - -But once let our eyes leave the mountains and the Tower, and it all -changes into that other picture, the other side of the life of that -curious compound of traits, the Spaniard. For here, South American as he -calls himself, down deep in his heart he is ever the Spaniard, and -although he has claimed his independence of the mother country these -many years, through the heroic victories of Bolivar and his brave -associates, his characteristics are Spanish, his arts are Spanish, his -life is Spanish; his glorious Cathedral is Spanish, and his horrible -streets are Spanish; his magnificent statue of Bolivar is Spanish, and -the dowdy, dusty garden about it is Spanish. Was he ever intended to be -a householder? Should not his portion be to beautify the earth by his -artistic intuition, and let the rest of us, who do not comprehend the A -B C of his art, be the cleaners and the menders? Is not this a people -left like children to build up the semblance of a government from the -wrong stuff? Will not the world in time come to see that one race cannot -be all things; that some must be artists, and some mechanics; that some -must be leaders, and others followers; that some will be the builders of -beauty, to last for all time, and others must be the guardians of -health, the makers of strong, clean men? - - -VII. - -Why is it that the President's house,--the great yellow house across the -square, shown us by the Minister of War himself to-day,--one of the -homes of Cipriano Castro, the present Dictator, is nothing more or less -than an arsenal, packed to the full with cartridges, muskets, and -rapid-firing guns, and alive with armed troops? How is it that Castro is -said to have laid by a million dollars out of a twelve thousand dollars -a year salary? Why is it that our going into Venezuela was considered by -some unsafe? Why did we shake every bone in our bodies over the upturned -streets and boulders of Caracas? Because the Venezuelan is trying to do -that for which he is not fitted; in which, during all these long years -of constant revolution, he has failed. He, past-master in certain of his -arts, has taught the world his colours and his lights and shades; he has -given to earth notable tokens of his skill in building; but in -house-cleaning--municipal or national--he is out of his element, and -should no more be expected to excel in that line than a babe in arms -should be expected to know the Greek grammar. - -Like all Spaniards he is mediæval in his instincts; he cannot really -govern himself as part of a republic. - -The city of Caracas exemplifies this statement. It is in a horrible -state of dirt and disproportion. Its people are kind and courteous, but -its streets are a nightmare; and over all hovers the strong hand of -military despotism. - - -VIII. - -After dinner our first expedition was to call upon the United States -Minister L---- and his wife, who were occupying the former residence of -Count De Toro, some miles out of the city. And what a drive! - -To move comfortably in Caracas, you must either take the donkey -tramway--which never goes where you want to go--or you must walk. But to -walk a half-dozen miles in the hot sun, on a dusty, stony road, is not -particularly inviting, so, with our respects to the sun, we decide to -drive, and all the way out we wonder why we ever did. And yet, had we -walked, I suppose we would have wondered why we hadn't taken a cab. - -As it was, the dust blew about us from the rolling, bumping wheels in -great clouds, and the big stones in the road sent us careening about -from one side of the carriage to the other. Again we think of Mexico--of -the dust, the parched earth, the _arroyos_, and the saving mountains -beyond. We pass a dried-up river-bed, where women are washing in a faint -trickle of water, and then we wind about the hill and climb up the rocky -way, enter a sort of wood, and come suddenly to the minister's house. - -[Illustration: AN INTERIOR COURT - -Caracas, Venezuela] - -Our nation's arms on the gateway make us feel at home, and we jingle the -bell and send in our cards and wait in the shady court. In a few -moments, Minister L---- appears, and with him Mrs. L----, who bids us -enter her cool, delicious drawing-room, very clean and sweet and -old-fashioned and quiet, though the house is truly Spanish, with wide, -airy rooms and curious pictured walls. The men went off up a flight of -stone steps through the garden to the office, to talk politics and the -"Venezuelan situation," I suppose; while we sat there with the -minister's wife, who told us much of her life and the customs of the -country, and, among other things, how difficult it is for a -foreigner--even a diplomat--to gain access to the real home-life of the -Spaniard; how the women live shut in, and see but little of the world, -only glimpses now and then, never knowing anything of our Northern -freedom. - - -IX. - -The drive back to the city was one continuous round of jolt and bump and -dust. We rattled down and up the streets which, despite their -narrowness and general dilapidation, could not be utterly devoid of -interest, if viewed from the eyes of the lover of wrought-iron handiwork -and graceful handlings of simple and strong elements in building. - -We were told that it was our duty to view the Municipal Palace, and dear -Sister, although I knew she was tired, did not want anything seeable -omitted; so we most willingly left the cabs at the palace door, with the -hope of never having the agony of that ride repeated. - -As the Spaniard builds his cathedral, so does he impart to each -important structure a fitting grace and dignity of style commensurate -with its office. The Municipal Palace is built about a great hollow -square or plaza, which is filled with palms and other similarly -beautiful vegetation. But, oh, dear! oh, dear! the dust! The great -reception-hall, or audience-chamber,--or whatever one might call -it,--was lined with stately gilt chairs and sofas, done up in linen -dusters. The effort of driving and seeing and jolting and being -agreeable had been such a strain that I just thumped down on one of the -wide sofas and spent my time looking about me, while the others -conscientiously made the _grande tour_ from one end of the great room to -the other. - -It is a large oval hall ornamented with some very fine historical -paintings. The Spanish Student had found an obliging officer--for -soldiers are everywhere--and I quietly left the two alone. I thought it -too cruel, after our long drive, to expect him to retranslate for my -benefit, but then there came a faint suspicion in my mind, from a -troubled expression on his face, when the guide launched into the deep -waters of Venezuelan history, with Bolivar rampant and the Spaniards -fleeing, that, possibly, it was not all clear sailing; that, possibly, -this was just the occasion for the last of my phrases. No, I watch the -face; it resumes once more its usual expression of serenity, and I sit -there and think how beautiful it might all be if it were only clean; if -Bolivar could only come back again and teach his children their -unlearned lesson of disinterested self-love of country and home. - -Bolivar appears to have been the only liberator (and each new -"President" who throws out the defeated party and instates himself is -called "liberator") who ever died poor, having spent not only public -funds for the betterment of arts and science and education, but -nine-tenths of his own personal patrimony as well. - -The guide closes the blinds, and our party comes together at the door, -leaving nice little clean spots where they have stood in groups on the -dusty, once highly polished floor, and we turn down the long, wide -balcony to an open door at the end. A brilliantly uniformed, handsome -lad bars admission, for Castro the Great is holding a cabinet meeting -there, and we can see the collar of a black alpaca coat and the back of -a very solemn-looking chair, and hear a low voice speaking,--and that -was all we saw of Castro. - -Some one proposes a drive; some one else suggests the shops, but we -decide to go home. That dear old word sounds lonesome away down here in -South America. Does it mean the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_? Was this the -home; or was it the wide, out-reaching mountains, fading into the deeps -of night; or the Cathedral, rising from the dread below in her sweet -chastity? - - -X. - -Tired bells jangle out the slowly passing time. An ancient carillon -sounds the quarter, an added clang the half, one note more for three -quarters. The long black arms reach to the hour, then another and -another passes, and night brings rest to the Great Mother. But the soft -gentle eyes are no sooner closed than all the children, the white -children at her feet, begin to stir and move, just as yours and mine do -when mother sleeps. - -The old church towers, with sweet grace, wrap about her stately form a -mantle of whitest silver, bordered with great lines of black, and away -above her head, up in God's garden, forget-me-nots and heartsease -blossom out into twinkling spots of starlit beauty. - -The moon rolls languidly on in the gentlest heaven that earth e'er -looked upon. - -Below, beneath God's garden, the white children brighten and awaken from -the drowsy languor of the long day. Lights flare out, doors open, and -streets fill with happy voices, and a white-frocked humanity empties -itself into the Plaza to hear yet again the great Military Band of -Caracas. - -There comes a hush, and then--it must be from the garden away off so -far--there drops a veil,--the veil of forgetfulness, in sounds of music -so inexpressibly tender and alluring as to catch the soul from earth -away up to where white angels gather the forget-me-nots and heartsease. -The crumbling city and its disordered sights, the dust and all -unpleasantness pass away beyond the veil, and all that remains is -covered with the witchery of music. - -To make it real, we, too, join the children and press in close, just as -our little ones do who fear not the expression of their emotions. We, -too, press in where the makers of this wonderful music, sixty of them, -stand in a great semicircle at the head of a flight of stone steps, and -then we listen to the old, eternally old stories of life and love and -joy and tragedy; listen, until our souls are filled to the utmost with -the deeps of life! - -An intermission comes; we take a deep breath; meanwhile he of the -Spanish vocabulary, made bold by enthusiasm, threaded his way to where -the leader of the band was nonchalantly smoking a cigarette, wishing to -congratulate him on the masterful work done by his musicians, and also -to thank him for having just played "The Star Spangled Banner," in -honour of the Americans present. - -Shrugging his shoulders, the bandmaster remarked that his men had almost -forgotten that American thing, as it was twelve years since last they -played it! Thus does the Venezuelan show his love for these United -States. But we forget that in the charm of the reawakened melody, for it -is the kind of music that speaks real things; that brings the great -forgetting of things visible; that brings the great remembering of -things eternal. Mellow notes, as from the throat of a blackbird, slip -through the liquid night as softly as the splash of feathered warblers -in the cool water brooks, and when the strong word is uttered, it comes -forth like the voice of a seer, unjarring, made strong through great -tenderness. - -Closer and closer we press to lose not the slightest note, and we -realise that it is the music which comes to our cold Northern senses but -once in a lifetime, and our ears plead for more and yet more. No strings -could ever have so mellowed themselves into the loveliness of that night -as did those liquid oboes, whose sylvan tones filtered through our -senses with ineffable sweetness. The wood and brass seemed to have been -tempered by long nights of tears and days of smiles, so ripened were -they into an expression of the soul of humanity. - -At last the Great Mother sleeps, her children are tired and go to rest, -and God's garden blossoms away, away off beyond in the far country. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS - - -I. - -The choice lay between a luncheon on board our vessel down in the hot -harbour of La Guayra, with President Cipriano Castro and his suite -invited as guests of honour by the German officers, or an added day in -Caracas; and then a glimpse of South America on our way by Valencia to -Puerto Cabello, where we would again take ship. The question was -well-discussed, _pro_ and _con_, and finally decided in favour of -Venezuela, the country _versus_ Castro, its dictator. After all, General -Castro was not so very different from the other Venezuelans all about -us, except in that great element, his personal success for the time -being; and then you know we did see his alpaca coat and the back of his -chair, and we heard his voice in the council-chamber,--at least we -thought we did,--and that really ought to be enough to satisfy any one. - -In a way, we did feel satisfied, and yet there was a lingering -inclination toward that luncheon. It might be that, for once, the great -man would look, act, appear just a little different from the every-day -sort. It was only a remnant of the everlasting hope for a perfect -adjustment of mind and body,--that futile phantasmagoria which would -make the great man great in all things. And to give up and leave Castro -in a common, every-day alpaca coat,--and only the back of it at -that,--when we might see him in gold lace and gorgeous uniform, well, it -was too bad; but then old common sense comes lumbering along and spoils -the whole thing, and tells us it's no use, no use at all, mourning over -the impossible; he's only a man, and a little man at that, and there are -plenty of fine men all over the world, and there's only one South -America; and so and so on, until the balance weighs so heavily against -the Castro faction that, when the time came to take the train for La -Guayra, we divided the party, sent the little girls back to the ship -with our friends, and turned ourselves loose upon the sunny streets of -Caracas. - - -II. - -We had no guide-book, no one told us what to do, no one seemed to know -what we ought to do; so, freed from all restraint, we had the delightful -sensation of unlimited liberty. - -It was Ash Wednesday and the church-bells rang incessantly. We took to -the left, passing the Cathedral, whose black shades enveloped one after -another of the faithful, and kept straight on, to where the women in -white frocks and lace mantillas, and the black serving-girls with -baskets, and the small boys, and trains of burros were streaming down in -the direction of the market. Most naturally we join the procession, now -in the street, with the cabs and carriers of all sorts of things, and -now jostling in among the people on the narrow sidewalk of the shady -side. - -We have no intention of telling about the flies and the smells and the -dirt. They were all there and can easily be pictured, and we really have -no intention of staying but a moment in the market, for we have seen so -many before; but once a part of the big throng of buyers and sellers; -once fairly free from the South Americans who insist upon speaking -English, once free to use our own laboriously acquired Spanish, we stay -on and on, buy and eat all sorts of curious fruit, until we fear for the -consequences, and are delightfully uncomfortable and happy. - -It was a surprise to find in Caracas a market which surpassed in -varieties and quantities any other place we had ever seen. - -Caracas, with its abortive palms, its dusty, dried-up appearance, gave -one the impression of unproductiveness; and the dinner of the night -before, with meat, meat, meat,--an exaggerated Trinidadian affair--led -us to expect anything but fresh, sweet, delectable fruits; but here they -were in masses! We had searched every port for pineapples, and these -were the first ones we had found which answered to our ideals formed -years ago by the pineapples of Amatlan and Southeastern Mexico. And such -dear little thin-skinned refreshing limes! I wonder why they are not -exported more freely in place of the big, thick-coated lemons? I suppose -the impression prevails that the American wants everything on a big -scale, so he gets the big lemon in place of the dainty aromatic lime. -There we found in great abundance all the fruits with which we had grown -familiar on the islands, but more surprising, the fruits of the -temperate regions as well. There were some queer kinds of melons, too. -We tried them, of course; we tried everything, buying here a slice of -pineapple for _dos centavos_, and over at another stall a _medio's_ -worth of mangoes; then we take up a piece of a curious fruit and examine -it rather suspiciously. Its meat is yellow and covered with little black -seeds, just the size and appearance of capers, and when one eats it, the -seed is the only element of flavour. It has so exactly the taste of -water-cress that one needs to use considerable will-power to believe it -is a melon, and not a salad. - -Here were grapes, both white and black, and sweet and sour lemons, and -all sizes of oranges. There were peaches and apricots, and curious -little apples, about the size of a small crab-apple; and delicious -little Alpine strawberries from away up in the Andes, and then there -were in every stall mangoes, and sapodillas, and granaditas, and -pineapples sweet as honey and luscious, and curious aguacotes and -zapotas and many unknown fruits--besides the ever-present cocoanut. - -And vegetables! I only wish we could tell you the names of all the -aromatic herbs and green stuffs spread out to tempt us. But there was -one thing we did recognise at first sight: the beans--nine different -varieties in one stall and maybe as many more in another--"_frijoles de -todas clases_," the market-woman announced for our encouragement. A -procession of bulging baskets crowds us along out of the market, and we -move on to make room for a stream of empty baskets coming from the -opposite direction. - - -III. - -We take a straightaway course down toward the ever-beautiful curves of a -massive old church, some blocks off, and on the way, with the wanderer's -prerogative, step into the open door of a fine modern building, -apparently a bank. The Spanish Student walks up to a grilled window in -the court to get an American gold piece changed into Venezuelan -bolivars and is at once invited to enter. The president and -vice-president of the bank were at conference in a finely appointed, -spacious office, and as we appeared, both greeted us most cordially and -addressed us in perfect English. The weather started the ball of -conversation rolling, and from that we chatted on about the voyage, and -the islands, and all sorts of things; and then the men launched into a -discussion of the political situation, and from that to the power -Germany was acquiring in a mercantile way in their country. And they -told us how the Germans came there with their families, and taught their -children from babyhood the language and customs of the South Americans, -at the same time holding firmly their grasp of the mother tongue and the -thrifty business methods of their home concerns. Thus given from infancy -this advantage of a thorough knowledge of the language and customs of -the country, they acquire a prestige with which no amount of ability in -a foreigner can compete should he be less ably equipped. How dangerous -to America is becoming this Teutonic power and prestige we do not -realise, for who can fathom the ambition and persistency of the Kaiser -and his subjects in South America--Germans all, though thousands of -miles from Berlin? - -I could but admire the facility and ease with which these South American -men of affairs expressed themselves in English, and I thought, how few -there were of us who could thus readily express ourselves in Spanish. It -came to me forcibly that the American who is truly far-sighted, is the -one who is acquiring, and having his children acquire, a good speaking -knowledge of Spanish; for the time is surely coming when our need of -Spanish will be far greater than to-day. The time is coming, if we guard -our interests aright, when these South Americans will look to the North -for a closer bond than now exists, and when that time does come, the man -most potent in the new relation will be he who can, by a knowledge of -the language, customs, and habits, place himself in perfect sympathy -with his South American brothers. And we must remember, too, that we are -dealing with men whose education is based upon the time-honoured culture -of an old world, men of attainment, of polish and policy, of strength -and power; however much that power may be at times misguided, there is -latent great force and adaptability. - -The South American is a man of marked and strong mental ability, and is -already--and for that matter has for years been--modelling his laws -after those of his more fortunate younger brother of the Northern -continent. It is not in proper law and forms of government that he -lacks, but in their proper enforcement, and back of all in the muzzling -of that healthy public interest that would demand their enforcement. -However much he fails in government, the time when his country will be -dispassionately ruled by fixed and just legislation is hoped for by such -men as the officers of this bank. For how can the country's business go -on amid the turmoil of ever-impending revolution? - -These West Indian Islands and South America, combined, have been used by -all nations who have profited by their marvellous productiveness merely -for what can be gotten out of them through one resource and another; -even North Americans themselves are not above reproach in their quarrels -over the Venezuelan Pitch Lake concessions, which was then a subject of -keen interest. But in spite of the fact that some Americans have been -feathering their nests from this foreign down, still I believe that our -people will eventually lead the world in true philanthropy,--the -philanthropy of development and honest business methods, and that ours -should be the hand that brings to the South American the solution of his -great difficulties; directed not to annexation of these Southern lands, -but to helping in the evolution of a stable, self-respecting independent -government. - -South America is waiting for the great hand, for the great liberator of -the land from the faults and follies of its own sons, and when he comes -he will find a country rich to overflowing in unrealised possibilities. -The curse of these countries seems to be in the love of the Spanish -American for political intrigue, which periodically bears fruit in the -bogus political "liberator," throbbing with meretricious and -self-seeking ambition which he bombastically labels "Patriotism." - -[Illustration: CATHEDRAL AND PLAZA - -Caracas, Venezuela - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -If you had stood face to face with two such well-poised types of -conservative South Americans as we met that morning, I feel sure that -you, too, might hope for a great future for this country, could it but -be represented and led by its best men. - - -IV. - -With courteous good wishes, we left the señors' pleasant company, and -went on, still in the direction of a church-tower. The shops were far -from interesting, much like others down in the islands, with the -exception of a chocolate-shop, which we found to be the sales office of -a factory where a great deal of prepared chocolate is made, for Caracas -is a great chocolate market. After we had filled our pockets with all we -could carry, of chocolate blocks and chocolate fishes and chocolate -dolls, we started on again, munching the chocolate as we went, until we -came at last to the Cathedral, which was in a state of mortar and lime -and scaffolding, due to having the cracks from last October's earthquake -doctored up in the same matter-of-fact way that we clean house in the -spring. - -Well, we were glad at last to have seen the inside of the Cathedral, for -even without the suggestion of a guide-book, we had in a sort of way -felt that we ought to do so; such a slave of "Ought" does the traveller -become, in spite of utmost precaution. - -By this time the sun was nearing noon, and we naturally turned in the -direction of the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ as the only available place -in which to rest; that is, I thought it was the only available place, -but the Spanish Student knew better. How he knew, or when he had -experimented, he would not say, nor could the truth be forced or dragged -from him, as he walked on toward the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_; but I -had a suspicion, from the decided click to his step, and a lurking joy -in his eye, that he had forsaken the Gran Hotel de Venezuela; that he -had discovered a new Arcadia, and, oh! it was so delightful to feel that -it was not the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. Then he stopped at a -lattice,--I am sure there wasn't a door in the house--at the lattice of -an enticing _Dulceria_, and we sat down where it was cool and quiet, and -I waited to see what would happen. _El propietorio_ appears. At once, at -the sight of the Spanish Student, the señor smiles, and disappears. They -had met before. The señor enters once more,--for we are not to be left -to an ordinary waiter,--this time with two tall glasses,--very tall, -thin glasses. - -If you could only have felt the fatigue of that moment! We had tramped -about three hours, under the high, white sun, with the drowsy spell of -noon creeping stealthily over the city, and even over the insatiable -tourist; if you could have been with us to have seen the two tall -glasses, filled to the brim, placed on the table by mine host himself, -you, too, would have concluded that it was no small matter to be thus -refreshed. It looked like lemonade, and yet it didn't, and it -tasted,--well there's no other explanation possible; it was bewitched. -Mine host had crossed his heart, looked twice over his right shoulder, -turned three times on his left toe, and then pronounced the spell. - -One taste convinced me that it took a lot of things to make that -lemonade,--a lot of things besides limes and water, and whatever that -lot of things was, it was the finest combination I had ever known. Mine -host pronounced it lemonade; so did the Spanish Student, though I heard -him suggest "_un poquito de Rom Imperial_" to the señor. With one taste, -all fatigue took wings, everything took wings. The bent-wood table -capered off with the bent-wood chair, and the long, fly-specked mirror -cavorted from side to side with the parrot-cage. Everything was lovely -and undulatory, and life was one long oblivion of the red-headed -housekeeper at the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. - -He, the one opposite, leaned back and looked amused and satisfied, and -said: "There's more coming." - -"What, more lemonade?" - -"No, not more lemonade, but more of something else." - -And then it came. Again two tall glasses of a delicious rose-coloured -ice, made of fresh wild strawberries, gathered that morning among the -glistening dew of the Andes. In the centre of the ice, like the rakish -masts of a fairy's ship, two richly browned, delicate tubes of sweetened -pastry bore the ensign of our feast. - -They reminded me of the lamplighters we children used to make at a -penny a hundred, on winter evenings by the crackling coal fire. - -You remember? Or have you never had the fun? - -You take a bit of paper an inch wide and twelve inches long, wet your -finger, give a queer kind of twist to one corner and up it rolls, in a -long, neat shape. Double it over at the end, and there you are. -Sometimes it unwinds, and then it is exactly like the confectioner's -roll in Caracas, only white instead of a rich, luscious brown. - -From that moment on, all other attractions of Caracas, the University, -the _Casa Amarilla_, the Pantheon, palled in attraction before that -_Dulceria_. It became to us, and to every one we met, the loadstone of -Caracas. To taste of an ice made from berries picked among the valleys -of the Andes is no small matter, and to quaff a lemonade which, without -suspicion, could still fashion wings at least as lasting as those of -Icarus of old, is also no small matter, and may we not be forgiven and -no questions asked if we confess to more than one return to the -_Dulceria_ shop just across the Plaza in Caracas? - - -V. - -Four o'clock was the hour appointed for the coming together of our -diminished party, and until then the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ was -supposed to hold me in its ancient decrepitude, and it did hold me until -about three o'clock; when the bells set up such a clanging, and were so -zealous to get me up and out of bed and into their mid-afternoon -vespers, that I finally yielded to their summons, and, making a hasty -toilet, stole down the creaking stairs and out into the streets. - -No Northern city at midnight is more soundly asleep than the tropical -town in mid-afternoon. The heavy white blinds are down, the green -lattices closed tightly, awnings dropped close before the shop-doors; -while the cabby and his horse, on guard near the Plaza, doze in willing -slumber. The market is empty, the little donkeys are long since browsing -upon the green slopes of the foot-hills; the street criers are still, -the whole world seems dead asleep, and, as I slipped along toward the -Cathedral, the drowsy chanting of priests' voices was the only sound -which broke the quiescence of that delicious afternoon. For delicious -it was, in truth. All of God's part was in its perfectness. The air was -sweetly cool and refreshing, with a flavour of mountain ozone mingled -with the sunlight, and, as I came to a cross street, looking up the long -narrow, white reach to the foot-hills, it was with a bit of imagining, -like a glimpse through the tube of a huge kaleidoscope, with the green -and purple and blue and yellow mountains an ever-changing vista of -resplendent colour in the vanishing distance. - -The priests' voices called out again, and I entered the high-domed, -sweet place of worship. The chancel and altar were being repaired, so it -was in the oblong nave that the priests, white-robed, rich with lace and -embroidery, sat in ancient carved chairs, saying in responsive chants -the words decreed for Ash Wednesday. The priests were old, and some were -very feeble, and it seemed at times an effort for them to rise when the -service demanded. A number of young men, of lesser dignity, assisted, -and two little acolytes in red sat quite at the end of the row of -priests. Still the chanting goes on and on, and the voices are -monotonously sleepy, and long drifts of mellow, shaded light drop down -on the white robes, and one of the priests yawns, and the little acolyte -nods, and then goes fast asleep; and up overhead the lofty dome reëchoes -the somnolent voices, and I hear the old bells telling me about four -o'clock, but they seem very indistinct and sleepy and uninterested. And -I feel sleepy and nod, and wonder if it's the priests' voices or the -bells that put everybody to sleep, and I forget all about four o'clock -until a workman way down near the altar, perched on a high ladder, -mending more cracks, knocks off a piece of plaster, and I start and look -around, then tiptoe out; while the bells tell me that the quarter-hour -is gone with the rest of the day. - - -VI. - -Caracas is responsible for a decided turning about from some of my -former estimates of the Spanish character. It is not necessary to say -just exactly what these preconceived opinions were, but they were there, -and as I supposed, a fixture. In the children's neighbourhood brawls, I -have noticed frequently that, whenever vengeance was to be meted upon -some offending head, he was called by one and all, "a Spaniard." That -was enough to arouse all the wrath of his youthful spirit into -rebellion, and until the word was recalled, war reigned. This of course -is largely since our late trouble with Spain. I shall not say that the -use of the word exactly represented my state of mind toward the South -Americans, but, in spite of the many pleasant experiences of years gone -by in Mexico, I shall confess to a somewhat allied feeling with regard -to that name, and to all people who are in any way affiliated with the -race, and I dare say that something of this same prejudice has existed -among our people at large for some time, and not altogether without -cause. - -To have that impression partially removed was one of the results of an -evening spent at the opera in Caracas, where General Cipriano Castro had -arranged an especially fine performance to be given in honour of the -North Americans then visiting his republic. The opera-house was -decorated in our nation's colours, intertwined with the yellow, red, and -blue of Venezuela, and every seat not taken by our party was occupied by -the representative citizens of Caracas. The performance--a light, comic -opera--was of excellent standard, and passed off with great applause. -Much as we enjoyed the music, the Venezuelans themselves were our -greatest object of interest. - -The house was apportioned in the usual foreign style, with two tiers of -boxes circling on either side from the President's box in the rear -centre. The women, as usual, occupied the front seats in the boxes, and -were thus in a position to be seen and observed very closely. And -never--I make no exception, no exception whatever--have I seen such -modest, womanly appearing women as were present at the opera that night. -They did not giggle nor stare nor flirt. They were richly, beautifully, -becomingly gowned, but, although arrayed with a desire to please, they -were as modest and unassuming as a lot of little girls at a doll's -tea-party. Their eyes no sooner met yours than they dropped,--not -affectedly, but naturally, naïvely,--and it was impossible to refrain -from forming an opinion of the conditions of society from the faces and -actions of these women. - -Women make society what it is; they make it right, high, true, and -pure; they make it wrong, low, false, and vile, and the general -appearance and actions of the women of a country, studied by an observer -of human nature, will tell more truthfully the moral condition of a -people than any book ever written. - -Whatever faults the Spaniard may have bequeathed to his descendants; -whatever his failings in government and kindred problems, the women, -these beautiful women of Caracas, made us feel that they had set for -themselves high standards of morality; that the social life was away -beyond the level we had expected; that the family--the wife--is a sacred -trust given the man to protect in honour and virtue so long as he lives. - -There is, no doubt, much to be said against the rigid life of seclusion -led by the Spanish women, but there is this to be said in its favour: it -has created a race of men who honour and respect their homes, a race of -men whose attitude toward women is universally respectful and -deferential. With all our stiff-necked New England self-sufficiency, we -have yet much to learn, we women of the North, and let it not be beneath -our dignity to remember that the South American women have some lessons -learned which we have yet to master; and perhaps there are none who -could teach us more gently or more effectively than the modest, womanly -women of Caracas. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS TO PUERTO CABELLO - - -I. - -And now we are at the railway station, headed for Valencia and Puerto -Cabello, still determined to continue unguided back to the coast. - -There was to me something so extraordinary in the thought that, for -once, we were really to get ahead of the professional guides, that it -required repeated and oft repeated assurances to at least one of the -women of our circle from the kindly official at the railway station, to -relieve all doubts as to the wisdom of our plans. Of course, the men of -our party had no doubts, at least, none were expressed; and yet some of -us, particularly the writer, could hardly believe that the train we were -to take would carry us on through Valencia, past the lovely Lake of -Valencia down to Puerto Cabello, a half-hour in advance of the Special -Train with the Special Courier; that we would be a half-hour earlier at -luncheon in the mountains, and a half an hour earlier that evening in -reaching Puerto Cabello; and this latter would be no small consideration -after a long, hot ride from mountain-top to sandy beach. - -But this was to be the case, so the official informed us, not only in -Spanish, but in French, and very perfect French, too--for not -understanding Spanish, we women of course had to hear it all over again -in French; so we left the party, and boarded the regular morning train -for Valencia, amidst the warnings of many, the doubts of all the timid -ones, and the envy of a few jollier spirits. What would become of us, if -this train should make up its mind not to go through to Puerto Cabello, -and drop us at La Victoria, or San Joaquin perhaps; and what if the -much-lauded Special should after all fly on and leave us in the -mountains, high and dry, a half-day's journey to Puerto Cabello, with no -means of reaching the ship on sailing-time; and what if our pretty boat -should sail away to God's country, and leave us literally stranded, -marooned for weeks, on the sun-blighted beach of Puerto Cabello, -waiting for a ship? - -[Illustration: A HOUSE BESIDE THE SEA - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela] - -A thousand "ifs" are flung at us, but there stands the big, handsome -South American railway official, with a rose in his buttonhole, patent -leathers on his feet, and a smile on his face, and visible support in -every attitude of his fine body; so we settle down, reassured, and look -around to count heads, and we check off--all but one, the Doctor,--he is -not at the station. Where is he? Where is the Doctor? He has sworn to -stand by us to the end; in fact had been one of the prime movers in this -venture, and here we are ready to start, even the men are aboard the -funny little train, and the Doctor not in sight. - -Ten anxious heads lean out from ten abbreviated windows; ten distressed -voices ask in all available tongues, "Where is the Doctor?" We ask the -official--the one with the rose--if he has seen one called the Doctor, -with bland, smiling face, round and jovial; blue eyes, light hair, -walking with a confident, easy swing, wearing a linen suit and East -Indian pith helmet. No one answering that description had come to the -station. Fully half an hour before we left the _Gran Hotel de -Venezuela_, the Doctor had taken a cab, so that there should be no doubt -or question as to his being on time; for the Doctor was an orderly man, -of decided opinions and exact habits. He was never known to be late at -an appointment. He had with him the free untrammelled air of the -unmarried man. He had neither wife to detain, nor sweetheart to beguile -him. He was a free-lance, and yet here it was, a moment before the time -for departure, and the Doctor nowhere to be seen. - -The train shivers, quivers, gives a bump or so, squeaks out a funny -foreign whistle, and we are moving out of Caracas. Ten of us instead of -eleven. Ten much troubled wanderers, thinking and wondering a very great -deal. We pass the curious little chapel upon the hill, with its five -disjointed little steeples, looking as if one more quake of the grand -old Mother would topple them all over for good; pass the low _adobe_ -huts on the outskirts of the city, and then catch a last glimpse of the -Cathedral and its dear old bells, and the trees about the Square of -Bolivar; and are almost into the rich country, outlaying the great -city. But where is the Doctor! Had he been beguiled or waylaid, or had -he waited for one too many a sip of the unforgettable lemonade; or had -he gone to sleep with the priests under the magic of the old bells? - -No, nothing seemed to fit in just right. The Doctor had reached years of -discretion, he knew the wiles of women, and, as for being waylaid, that -was hardly possible, for he always carried his chest high; and, as for -the priests,--no, it was not the priests, for the Doctor had paid his -respect to the Cathedral the day before. Hadn't we seen his white hat -disappear under the big, open doorway as we were on the way to market? -But the lemonade,--there was the hitch; he might have longed for one -more glimpse of the _Dulceria_, and the tall glass and the indescribable -nectar,--_con un poquito de Rom Imperial_,--yes, he might have done so, -any normal being might have done so, and that must be the whole trouble; -then, just as we had decided on the lemonade, we stop at Palo-Grande, -out in the gardens beyond the town, and into the car rushed a red-faced, -very mad American, with satchels and luggage and souvenirs in his hands, -and rage upon his face,--the Doctor; none more--none less,--the lost -wanderer! - -If any one was ever welcome, he was. We figuratively threw our arms -about him, and wept with joy at the return of our long-lost brother. The -Doctor's face was a study. From despair, it changed to delight, and he -flung himself into a seat, too happy to speak. But the Doctor was not -slow in giving us an explanation. He had been experimenting on some very -choice, newly acquired Spanish. That was the trouble, and instead of -taking him to the city station, the cabby, probably anxious for a good -fare, had driven about five miles to the first way-station on the road. -I did not think the Doctor could ever have been disconcerted under any -circumstances, but he was as thoroughly scared as one has need to be and -live; and for the rest of the day, every few minutes, he would break out -with some forceful expression about fool Americans who couldn't speak -Spanish and fool Spaniards who couldn't speak English. We all then and -there decided that we would learn Spanish or die. One or the other we -are sure to do. - - -II. - -It is a difficult matter to engage the Doctor in either scenery or -conversation, and, in spite of all the wonders in which we find -ourselves, as the plucky little train hurries along, it is a sort of -laugh and jollification all the way with the Doctor. - -I shall never forget the willows at the station where our Doctor -appeared. They were so exquisitely graceful and beautiful. They were -tall, with somewhat of the habits of the Lombardy poplar, close-limbed, -sinewy, and with the plumy grace of a bunch of feathers, bending, -bowing, whirling, swishing, in the cool mountain air, and I shall always -think of them as the Doctor's willows; for just as his frightened face -popped into the door, in the twinkling of an eye, I glanced out of the -window, and there stood that row of tall willows, like coy, young -maidens, bowing their gentle heads in graceful congratulation. The -Doctor's willow was to me one of the rarest, sweetest trees of that -wonderful day of trees, of that wonderful world of trees, of that -wonderful land of infinite beauties, known only to those whose eyes have -touched the vibration of their being. This willow, modest, unassuming -as it is, so unlikely to attract attention, without flower or colour, -other than the richest green that sunshine ever bestowed upon a leaf, -was in its way as exquisite as a dream of lace and dew-drops, as tender -as the sound of a lute, as sweetly sinuous as the drop of a violet's -head; and the mountain air, filtering through the thin, arrow-like -leaves, was music fit for gods,--not men. - -But the Doctor would not look at the willows, nor at the tall -grass--tall--tall--tall--following along the bed of a limpid stream--the -Guaira--tumbling along over pools and rocks and mossy beds; grasses so -high that even Jack's famous giants must needs stand on tiptoe to peep -over the top; grass twenty to thirty feet high, with feathery plumes -gracing the tall spires in masses of waving beauty. He would not see the -beauty of the picture that the Great Mother showed us, for he was still -in a dazed state of combined bewilderment, anger, and joy, and you know -it takes time to find one's feet after such an experience. - -But did I tell you how as usual bravery was rewarded? When we boarded -the train, we noticed our coach was unusually fine for a Venezuelan -railway, and we wondered at it. Later the conductor explained that it -was the private car of the general manager, all the common coaches being -taken up to complete the Special Train; and so the Doctor was at last -content. - - -III. - -Speeding along over the lordly plateau beyond Caracas, through a country -where the faintest effort on the part of man to cultivate the earth, the -least scratch with the hoe, meets with more than abundant response, -where, even in the high mountain altitude, sweet fields of cane and -coffee bring restful green and delicious shades in the ever-pervading -sunlight, we were entertained by some of the party, who were prophesying -a hard day and a hot day with a relish which was quite enviable. Why is -it that there must always be those who are constantly anticipating hot -weather? It seems to be out of the question to escape them; they either -predict that it will be, must be, unbearably hot, or unbearably cold, -according to the latitude in which they happen to be found. There seems -to be no way of getting along comfortably with the present. So we -listened while dire forebodings were omened for Valencia, and worse for -Puerto Cabello. - -In the meantime one of our friends,--Mrs. M---- from Boston,--was -suffering with a severe headache, and the Doctor, who had been in the -seat ahead of us, was asked if, in that small, black, professional-looking -valise, there was not something to relieve her pain. And then the Doctor -broke forth once more: - -"There's no use. I can't stand this any longer. I was called up last -night for the sick man in the after-deck stateroom; after each port I am -asked to prescribe for men suffering from swizzle jags, and I'm routed -out at all hours, and buttonholed by nervous women I don't know. I wish -I could help Mrs. M----; nothing would make me happier. But to tell the -truth, I'm not a doctor. I am only a plain business man--a manufacturer. -Somehow, when the passenger-list was made up, I was put in as 'Doctor -S----' and the list was printed and circulated before I knew of my -title. Then every one called me 'Doctor,' and it was such an easy name -to catch that I thought I'd just let it go, and I've been 'Doctor' to -every one ever since; but when it comes to setting a leg or curing a -headache, I must put an end to it." - -But the name had become fixed. It was there to stay, so the Doctor was -the "Doctor" in spite of his lack of diploma, and, in one sense, by his -good cheer, his readiness to join in fun, his stock of good stories, and -his consideration for others, he was quite as beneficial to our -sometimes weary selves, as if he carried his pockets full of bitter -tonic and invigorating elixirs. - - -IV. - -In front of us sat the Doctor; back of us sat a young South American -from "up country," with whom we entered into conversation, and from whom -we learned much to confirm our rapidly forming opinions of his great -country--Venezuela. He spoke English well, having been educated -partially in England, partially in New York. He came from the Province -of Colombo, to me a very indefinite, remotely hidden-away place -somewhere in the Andes, accessible only by two or three days' journey -from Caracas, partly by mule and partly by boat up the Maracaibo River. -By the way, we are told that Colombo is the native state of that peppery -little dictator--the present President Castro. - -This South American gentleman had been sent to Caracas to interview -Castro and his ministers with regard to a loan of twenty thousand -dollars in horses, cattle, and provisions made during the last -revolution to the faction which had placed Castro in power; the -transaction had evidently been dignified by the soothing name of "a -loan" because the quondam cowboy leader Castro had ended as a -self-elected President. Just what our fellow traveller's success had -been, we were unable to learn or he to tell, for this same General -Castro is a wily bird and keeps many an honest Venezuelan guessing. He -told us what we already knew,--that Venezuela needs peace--peace--peace, -and that, until she is assured of peace, her great hands must be idle. -We needed no words to assure us of her greatness. It was there before -us. The idle hands were clasping rich harvests unsown, rich treasures in -gold and silver glittered upon her fingers, and following the sweep of -her green mantle, there was a race of warm-hearted children, within -whose being there was the making of great men and women. But there must -be peace. For, when there is war, her great men go to the front, her -brave men are killed; but in some unfortunate way her political schemers -and professional revolutionists survive, and are always ready to make -new trouble. "He who fights and runs away will live to fight another -day." - -And so they run away--the unsuccessful ones--to Curaçao, to Paris, or to -some of the neighbouring South American states, but their dirty shadows -ever hang imminent on the horizon. - - -V. - -During the conversation with our South American friends, we had reached -the end of the plateau, and the descent began into the great valley -below. It was not until we reached that point that we realised the -wonder of this Venezuelan railroad, or that we understood the reason of -its being called the "Great Venezuelan Railway"--_Gran Ferrocarril de -Venezuela_. Like the greater portion of all the business enterprises in -South America and the West Indies, the railroad was built by Germans. -Krupp, of gun fame, was named as the head of the company, and too much -cannot be said of the courage and skill of men who undertook to build a -road under such difficulties. There are railways of difficult -construction all over the world, indeed, but never, in our experience, -were we more impressed with the magnitude of an undertaking than we were -with the construction of this masterful road; though one might well -criticise the business judgment of men who would thus put millions of -dollars into an enterprise that apparently can never be self-supporting. -Think of it, eighty-seven tunnels through rocky mountain spurs, one -hundred and twenty heavy steel bridges between Caracas and Valencia, -miles of rock-cutting and costly filling, and all this to carry a -handful of passengers and a few tons of freight each day--altogether not -enough to load one of our "mixed trains" in the States! - -It follows where cataracts leap a thousand feet, where rivers boil in -thundering roar over mighty rocks; it cuts the mountain top asunder and -dashes through the rock-hewn lap of earth; it drops down through the -tops of giant trees, and robs the morning of her mist; it mingles with -the clouds, and anon kisses the feet of the ocean--but it doesn't pay -dividends. - -From its heights, the earth stretches out in wonderful ridges of -gigantic proportion; geography becomes real, a fact, seen in the great -perspective. The air is so clear that the eye seems to have new power of -vision to reach to the uttermost end of the earth; the eye imparts to -the soul its larger horizon, and a great leap of joy carries the spirit -into the infinite room of creation, into the infinite grandeur of -created things, and the spirit grows and feels its small estimate of -God's earth expanding into a newer, grander conception of creation. -Mountain ridges sweep through tremendous space, one upon another, and at -their base, thousands of feet below, a green pillow of sugar-cane -invites the head and heart to quiescence. No word "green" can ever bring -back the quivering, transparent green of those young cane-fields, far -below in the valleys, watered by the careful hand of man in thousands -of tiny streams of irrigation. - - -VI. - -The morning was just what it should be in spite of the croakers, and the -immensity of nature had imparted to our spirits much of her buoyancy; so -when the train came to a halt, we jumped with alacrity from the little -coach, and sought among the people for the human interest, which was as -ever very great. The route was dotted with charming stations, each one -flying a German and Venezuelan flag in delightful amity--for the Germans -impress the South American first with their greatness and then with -their friendliness; the mailed hand is shown only as the last resort. - -Here were stations green and beflowered, in sweet good order, with -fountains and running streams, and booths where we bought ginger cookies -and Albert biscuit and _cervesa Inglesa_ and all sorts of fruit; and -back of the stations, hints of quaint old churches with distant bells, -and gathering about the mother church, blue and white and yellow -glimpses of queer old houses. And oh! the colour! The flowering trees! -What artist could ever reach the delicacy of the _Maria_ tree, one mass -of living pearls. Its branches so full of flower that there seemed to be -no room for leaf; the branch only there by sufferance. At La Victoria, -where we stop for luncheon, in a curious little café under a confident -German flag, our family interpreter disappears, and in a few minutes -returns in the likeness of a Thracian god, bedecked with garlands, pink -and white. He covers my lap with rarest blossoms, gives them to one and -all, and brings into the dusty coach a fragrance of Elysium. I long to -keep the flowers for ever; I long to hold that colour in such security -that it can never escape; I long to enclose that essence in some secret -shrine for ever. And shall I say I have not? - - -VII. - -As we rush along down, nearing the Great Mother's mighty limbs, we pass -drooping arbours of _Bucari_, another flowering tree of wonderful -splendour, each flower like a glorious wax _Cattleya_, and millions of -them at a glance. Just then, as the blaze of beauty dazzles our eyes, -two brilliantly green parrots, frightened by the noisy interloper, take -flight from under their beauteous canopy, and wing their way in yellow, -green, and red vibrations through the scintillating landscape. We are -now flying along on a level stretch, in a high, rich valley, full of -luscious fruits and ripening harvests, and before the mountain opens to -receive us into one of its deep tunnels, we see large fields of a low -bush, growing quite in the nature of young coffee, with much the same -size and general appearance; without, however, the customary -shade-trees. Our friend from Colombo explained that it is tapioca; and -off beyond, in this next, white-walled _hacienda_ (what a world of -dreams and romance of the land of _siempre mañana_ comes to one in that -combination of ordinary vowels and consonants--"_hacienda_"!), in the -_Hacienda Las Palomas_,--or was it the _Hacienda La Sierra_ or _La -Mata_, or _Guaracarima_?--the natives gather from the green river -valleys, maize and beans and yucca, in the language of the country, -"_frutas menores_;" but more abundantly than all else, are gathered the -coffee and the sugar in vast crops year by year. - -Westward from the summit the River Tuy plays hide-and-seek with us for -many a mile, darting, hurrying, beckoning, charming us, with a desire to -loiter when she loiters, to leap through the cliffs with her joy, to -rest under flower-spread arbours in sleepy towns with her, to dissolve -ourselves at last into the deep earth as she does. Finally we see her no -more, but now the larger Aragua, flowing toward the Lake of Valencia, -reaches out a bold hand, and we follow the new pathfinder where she -commands. - -One last look into the shadowy depths before we drop to the plains. It -is only a glimpse, for the passing is so swift that the eye cannot reach -its entirety of beauty; but that glimpse is like the shadow of a great -rock,--a lasting memory. A bird slowly sways in mighty, circling sweeps, -poised upon the ether, between two green-robed mountain priests--a great -bird against the hazy mountain deep, swaying, calm, eternally sure of -its strength. Was there a hand outstretched beneath in the far, -disappearing morning which brought the ecstasy into the soul of that -lonely wanderer? - -We leave the tunnels, the endless bridges, the heights, and drop down -rapidly into the valley, where the heat begins and the dust flies. We -follow the Aragua until she brings us to the Lake of Valencia, a long, -rambling, shallow lake, much like some of our own Northern lakes, and, -at the first opportunity (I think it was at Maracay), we leave the -train, and stand under the wide doors of the freight depot, with the -natives lying around half-asleep on sacks of coffee, and try to catch a -whiff of refreshing coolness from the lake. More German flags; they are -very interesting, but why should a party of Americans be so honoured? -For the German officers had gone back to the ship to do the polite to -General Castro. But the halt here was for a few minutes only; and we go -on, down through the hot little city of Valencia into greater heat, and -for a time into greater and more glorious vegetation. - -It was a curious sight,--the piles of compressed coal dust made into -blocks,--"briquettes,"--eight to ten inches square, each stamped -"Cardiff, Wales," piled in high, orderly heaps at each station; greater -supplies of which we found, as we left the timber for the low country. -But I must not give the impression that the low country is untimbered; -far from it. As we leave the higher levels and start the final sharp -descent toward the coast on the cog-road,--a curious device in -railroading to overcome the danger of such steep inclines,--we can give -no conception of the forest growth through which we pass. The air is hot -and still; the trees stand in their eternal beauty, in their myriads of -blossoms, in their vivid colourings, with deep festoons of moss and -interweaving vines in motionless repose. They seem to exhale heat and -silence and darkness, even under the blaze of a still, white sun; they -tell only of night in the tangled growth of nature triumphant. It might -have been at Nagua-Nagua, if not there it was very near there, that the -springs of water, boiling out of the earth, were hot and sulphurous, -and, as we were about to move on in our roomy coach, along came the -much-talked of Special, with its crowded passengers looking jaded and -worn and cross, more, I imagine, from the incessant clatter of tongues -than from the asperity of the Southern sun. On, on, nearer to the sea, -to where the palms grow. There had been cocoanut and royal palms -before,--yes, from Haïti through all the islands we had seen them, but -here they attain their most perfect grandeur and glory. We came upon -them not singly, in isolated groups of conservative aristocracy, but in -companies and regiments, miles of them, arranged by the masterful hand -of Nature, now in mighty groups apart, like a conference of plumed -generals, and then again in battalions of tall grenadiers on silent -dress parade. Their light lofty trunks gave back from the sun a dull, -grayish white pallor. They were still and grand, and unspeakably -beautiful. - -The heat seems to grow more intense as the sun sinks lower in the -heavens, and we drop down almost to the level of the ocean. The dust -becomes more blinding, and the palms disappear, and all things prickly -and unapproachably dry and forbidding, shadeless and impenetrable, take -their place, and change the picture from one of tropical life to -tropical death. - -[Illustration: A SOUTH AMERICAN STREET - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Long wastes of white sand spread over the desolate landscape, relieved -by not one sprig of comely green or welcome shade, with great mounds and -masses of gigantic and distorted cacti, more impassable than any -man-made barricade. They fitted in well with the heat and the dust, and -the long, low sun-rays, shooting in upon us their streaming floods of -white light; and then, just as I began to think the croakers might have -been right for once--there came a shout from the Doctor, from the Boston -friend, from us all; and Daddy, who was on the other side of the car, -jumps over to my seat and bends over my shoulder just in time to catch -sight of the sea--_el Mar Caribe_--before a bristling bank of cacti shut -it for the time from view. The Caribbean Sea--blue, far-reaching, -sweetly cool, washing the feet of the great, good Mother;--we longed to -plunge into the surf, and wash away the dust and heat and all unrest. -The sight of the great sea so near us, and our trim ship at anchor in -the harbour of Puerto Cabello, and the prospect of seeing the little -girls, from whom we had been separated by so many hours and miles, gives -us a deep joy. The day had been covered by the hand of God from dawn to -setting, and to the end of time there shall no greater beauty meet our -souls. - -Then through the sleepy streets of hot old Puerto Cabello we wander to -where a boat waits us by the rotting quay at the river's mouth. Two -darling faces find our wistful searchings as we near the ship, and four -sweet arms accompanied by kisses fairly weigh us down as we reach the -deck. - -"Oh, Mother! Just think of it, we shook hands with President Castro!" - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -CURAÇAO. CITY OF WILLEMSTAD - - -I. - -Small wonder indeed that the early explorers, the men to whom we owe the -discovery of these island gems, gave them such charmingly poetical -names. Small wonder that they named them as one would a necklace of -deep-sea pearls, strung as they are one upon another in a circlet about -the blue Caribbean Sea, the shadow of one velvety peak throwing its dark -coolness fairly to the base of sister isles, some but a few hours -distant, others perhaps a day, across seas as blue and green and limpid -as the ether above. It seems incredible that from these peaceful waters -rise the vast, cyclonic storms which frequently make such desolation on -our coasts; and that within the green and softly moulded outlines of -some of these mountainous islands there lie volcanic craters which -still grumble and threaten; but, as there are times and seasons for all -things, so there seems to be an ordering for the giant winds to rage, -when the sun is dyed its deepest, and the earth pants for want of drink -to moisten her quivering lips. But that time of unrest is far away now, -and, as we leave Puerto Cabello and its quiet harbour, bound for -Curaçao, and drop below the horizon the cocoanut-fringed shores of the -Spanish Main, it seems as if it must ever be on unruffled seas and -toward peaceful havens that the islanders voyage back and forth. - -Surely it is not more than the turning once over in sleep before, with -the morning breeze fresh in our nostrils, we are right upon the dear -little Dutch city of Willemstad, the capital of the Dutch West Indies on -the island of Curaçao; and, once ashore, we long to lodge indefinitely -behind the spotless white curtains that peek out from under some snug -little peaked roof, shifting scenes only when the impulse to go farther -comes over us; and then sailing away in one of the little packet -schooners which coast along from island to island, or possibly, taking -passage in a mail steamer, or anything bound anywhere, just so it does -not come blundering along before we are ready. - -There should be no words for days and hours in the tropics. Time should -be measured by enjoyments in changeful measure, slow and fast, as one's -mood demands. Rigid hours are obtrusive where the rustle of the -cocoa-palm invites rest. - - -II. - -The little girls and I are hurrying into our hair ribbons and our white -petticoats and white waists and white hats, just as fast as our fingers -can tie or button, when Curaçao jumps into our cabin windows, or maybe -our ship has jumped into Curaçao; or is it Holland we have dropped upon, -or is it a new stage-setting for the latest _al fresco_ production of -"The Flying Dutchman?" - -We no sooner have our first glimpse than, for a bit, all the dressing -stops, and we crowd our three heads up to the port-holes in perfect -delight. As our slim ship slowly winds herself into the river-like -harbour, this West Indian Holland becomes more and more enchanting. The -harbours in these islands have been an increasing wonder to us. On the -Venezuelan coast Puerto Cabello (translated literally, "The Port of the -Hair," because there it was said a hair would hold a ship) is a perfect -example of a harbour for small vessels. Deep, natural channels--like -rivers--wind circuitously until they widen into land-locked basins where -ships of all nations, and of all rigs, and for all purposes, from the -grim war-ship to the native dugout, come unexpectedly into sight as the -channel turns and broadens into the real harbour. There the ship is left -by the native pilot. - -This harbour of Curaçao is no exception. We enter by a narrow, deep way -protected by rocky barriers, directly into a little inner bay, encircled -by the quaint town. The houses gliding by, within easy hailing distance -of our decks, are preëminently Dutch, of brilliant, striking colouring, -noticeably yellow, and mathematically exact as to rows and heights and -proportions--most un-West-Indian. The town is certainly just recovering -from a fresh coat of kalsomine. It is bright as a top and clean as a -whistle. - -[Illustration: ACROSS STE. ANNE BAY - -Harbour of Willemstad, Curaçao - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -We are but a stone's throw from either dock, and it requires a lot of -common sense, even downright logic, to persuade us that we are in the -Caribbean Sea, and not far off on the other side of the globe coming out -of the flat estuaries of the bleak North Sea into the Meuse or the Y. - -A bit of Holland has been lost from out Mother Earth's pocket, and has -fallen by the way in this Western Hemisphere; and it has managed to get -along without the big Dutch mother very well. It has grown up into full -stature, following the instincts of its birth, almost wholly -uninfluenced by tropical environment. Here it stands, a perfect little -Dutchman, an exact reproduction of its staunch progenitors. Its forms -and habits have followed the traditions of its ancestors, not those of -its West Indian foster-mother. There is only one racial trait lacking in -Curaçao,--we saw no windmills; all the rest is there. But, to our great -relief, we are told that even the windmills appear on the country places -farther inland. - - -III. - -The arrival of our ship awakens the Yellow City early in the morning, -and, before our boats are lowered, the shore is white with crowds of -Curaçaoans, big and little, pushing and jostling each other for a sight -of us. Our breakfast is done with in short order. A hurried bit of -fruit, a quick swallow of boiling coffee, a fresh roll, and up we -scramble to the deck. So it is invariably, as we near a port. Each time -we come upon an island more curious, more irresistible than any we have -seen before. We may be sighting it first as we refresh our bodies with a -bath of the clear salt water from without, warmed into the most -delicious mildness by the eternal smile of the sun. Then comes a -scramble to dress, then a bolt to the dining-room, where we eat and run. -Now, in pops a big "if." If we were only snoozing in a Dutch -four-poster, with a frilled nightcap on, under a peaked roof in -Willemstad, then we'd never need to hurry, for all we'd have to do would -be to open our eyes and look around, and wait for the coffee to come -with a rap at the door and a lifting of the curtain. But there is small -comfort in listening to the endless schemes of that miscreant "if." -We'll banish him in disgrace. - -[Illustration: SOME OF OUR FRIENDS AT WILLEMSTAD] - -[Illustration: WHERE THE BASKET-WOMEN WAITED - -Willemstad, Curaçao] - -Before we have time to readjust our impressions of one island to -the anticipated pleasures of the one following, we are among a new -people, speaking a strange tongue, living to us a new life,--to them a -weather-worn old life; among people in densely populated cities, shut -off from our world by weeks--at times by months--of silent isolation. - -Then all at once a fleck of smoke lifts above the horizon, a steamer is -sighted far out at sea, the pilot puts out in his little open boat, and -the whole island throbs with new emotion, for a ship is coming! - -From a poetical standpoint, I wish it were possible to believe that this -emotion is a disinterested pleasure in welcoming strangers; in feeling -once again the hand of man from the great world outside. Viewing the -people, as we must, largely from an impersonal standpoint, it impressed -us that the West Indian cares very little for the welcome or for the -hand of man from the great continent; but that he is up early in the -morning to devise new ways of reaching the pockets of the invaders, come -they ever so peaceably. - -The natives await the coming of strangers, as a pack of hungry wolves -watch for the shorn lamb. I myself have been that shorn lamb on several -occasions. - -[Illustration: THE LANDING - -Willemstad, Curaçao] - -Quite undaunted by the great crowd of Curaçaoans on shore, our jackies -made a cable fast to the near-lying quay, by which means our big boats -are pulled back and forth, to and from the ship. Those coming to us -bring the sellers of baskets; and it is here, although forewarned and -forearmed, that our basket mania again breaks forth in full force. First -came the famous Curaçaoan nests of baskets, of which Charles Kingsley -confesses to have been beguiled into buying; and, if so wise a man as he -fell victim to the wiles of the Curaçaoan basket-woman, how much more -readily would we weaker mortals become her prey? Then, ranged -temptingly, along the dock stood rows of Curaçaoan hampers,--great, -fine, coloured affairs, which we looked at, and looked at, and looked -at, and didn't buy. Then, beside the basket-women, were the men with -fans and all sorts of straw weavings,--and then, oh! the work-boxes. -Truly, you have seen them! Has not your grandmother stowed away in -the dark attic somewhere an old mahogany box, inlaid with ivory and -brass and coloured woods, with fascinating secret drawers and numerous -lids for the hiding of her precious keepsakes and age-worn trinkets? -Such a box is one of the chaste memories of my childhood,--Grandmother's -mahogany box, with the inlaid lid and the musty odour of bygone years. -When we found these same dear old boxes away down in Curaçao, the worn, -hingeless, forsaken chest in the attic arose into a new dignity--into -the dignity of a noble family lineage. So I have found at last its -_habitat_, and these bright and gleaming creations are great-great--and -no end to great--grandchildren of my far-away, lonely relic in the -attic. But sentiment has to give way to reason, and we shake our heads -at the box-man and the hamper-woman, who, nevertheless, follow us up to -the bridge from the Otra-Banda shore over the canal, whence they watch -dejectedly while we pay bridge-toll and disappear across the canal into -the narrow Dutch streets, where the high roofs seem ready to topple over -upon us. - - -IV. - -What a picture of Dutch colonial life comes to us in that short walk! -The overreaching eaves all but touch. Old lanterns swing across the -narrow way, wrought-iron sign-posts reach long arms out over our heads, -the shop doors are wide open, and the keepers of the shops could readily -shake hands across the way. - -I wonder if there is any excuse at all for the fact that my preconceived -ideas about Curaçao were wholly founded upon a very indistinct memory of -a certain liquid of that name, said to be distilled upon this island -from the wild sour orange? I expected to find this ambrosial nectar -stacked in rows in every shop, in bottles, long and slim, chunky, dumpy, -and round; in nice little flat bottles,--gifts for bachelor friends; in -ornamented fancy bottles for envying housewives; in thick, pudgy, -squatty bottles for gouty old uncles; in every conceivable shape and -size I expected to find it. - -Willemstad was not to be Willemstad--city, town, burg--it was to be an -inhabited flask of curaçao, a kind of West Indian bubble blown from the -lips of the Northeast Trades, sweet with the breath of wild orange. The -man with the bottles was to be a more subtle tempter than the -hamper-woman, and--but it didn't happen that way at all. It turned out -very differently. - -I, for one, did not see a single bottle of any shape or form in the -whole town, but the men must have found some, for just before sailing a -box was brought in, labelled "Curaçao," and I surmised it was liqueur, -but I didn't open the box. Truly I did not! - -Some of us cynically argued that the liqueur was all sent in from -somewhere else and palmed off as a native product; others clung to the -home-production fancy, and yet neither one was altogether wrong, for the -famous liqueur is made both in Holland and in this little Dutch colony -away off in the New World; at any rate this is its birthplace and home. - -But the gold filigree, for which the islanders are famous, was true to -our expectations. We are drawn up the shut-in street by the magnetism of -a crowd which is gathering about a shop-door, and filling the tiny place -fairly to suffocation with eager buyers of gold rings and pins, and all -sorts of trinkets. - -We turn from the goldsmith and the seller of corals, and the shops, and -make for the tram,--a little, two-seated bandbox on wheels, drawn by a -two-penny mule on a tiny track through the clean white streets of -Curaçao. We are told that there is a law against the painting of the -houses white, on account of the blinding glare of the sun, and no -wonder, for, even after a few short hours of wandering, our eyes ache -with the strain and glare of so great light. The blue houses are an -exquisite rest to the eye. The whole colour scheme of Curaçao is yellow -and blue, and sometimes light green, with white used sparingly as -decoration. Green, the green of trees and grass, you ask? No. I said -nothing of the green of nature. It's too thoroughly Dutch for that. - -The bandbox car hitches along, threatening to topple over any minute on -the toy donkey and stop,--at least until sundown, which would be most -sensible. Let's cover up the donkey and get out of the glare until -night! But, no! He has his own ideas, and experience has taught us the -futility of an attempt to change them, so we settle down to the -succession of yellow houses and blue houses, and white pillars and clean -flights of white steps, but hardly a peep of green, not a sprig of palm, -or tamarind, or orange, not a vestige of the great fundamental -nature-colour--except in a well-concealed little park--everything paved -and finished and whitewashed--only a few prim and well-pruned shrubs -carefully set in either corner of the tiny front yards, and our eyes -ache for the sight of trees and grass. Where the wild orange grows, we -failed to discover, for the town itself is almost entirely bare of trees -or flowers. Of course, it must be remembered that our very short stay -made any long excursion into the country out of the question. Let us -come again; we must find the wild oranges! - -Strange, is it not? No shade whatever in latitudes where the growing of -great vegetation is but the matter of a few months. As far as we could -see, there were no real trees in Willemstad; still, if palms do not grow -in Holland, whatever would be the sense in having them here? They would -spoil the likeness. - -So we jerk our hats down, readjust the dark glasses, tuck our -handkerchiefs under our collars, and start up a breeze with a Curaçaoan -fan, and decide to play "Jack-in-the-box" and jump out; primarily, to -make straight for our ship to escape the midday sun; secondarily, to -take one very impressionable member of our party away from the alarming -charms of a stunning Curaçaoan woman--a woman of that noble and grandly -developed type which often appears in the descendants of the -Dutch--whose comely form occupies a goodly share of the bandbox seat. - -The streets in this residence part of the city are still and empty. The -penny donkey and "we'uns" are the only live things visible. We are -seized with a desire to pound on those eternally closed doorways to see -if people really do live there. This seeing things on the outside is no -fun. Let's make a sensation of some kind! Upset the bandbox, roll the -plump lady in a heap inside; put on the cover; stand the penny donkey on -top; capture some Curaçaoan hampers, jump inside, pull down the lid and -play forty thieves. - -[Illustration: A JOLLY DUTCH PORT - -Willemstad, Curaçao] - -But, no,--we are sworn foes to scenes, and our vain wish to pinch -somebody dies unsatisfied; and finally, when the penny donkey comes to -the end of the route down by the quay, we take the longest way around, -through the narrow thoroughfares, following the curve of the shore, over -bridges which span the canals leading from the main channel of the -harbour, down past the basket-woman with her tempting wares on the -Otra-Banda quay to our floating home, where the governor and all the -prominent citizens of Willemstad have assembled in great numbers. - -Well, we've found out one thing. The houses were empty sure enough. The -people are all on our ship. What a good thing it was we left the bandbox -right side up! There would have been no one to rescue the plump lady. - - -V. - -Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. U----, come toward us with a group of -strangers--Curaçaoan--whose acquaintance happened just as the best -things of life come to us--by the merest chance. They were driving about -the city in company with the American consul, when, in passing one of -the most attractive residences, their attention was drawn toward two -young women who were standing out on the veranda, waving a great -flag--our Stars and Stripes--in utter disregard of heat and sun; waving -it forth in the yellow and white glare with all the love of country and -home which motion could express. Their enthusiasm at once called forth a -response on the part of the visitors; the carriage stopped and forthwith -all the occupants of the house, following the two girls with the flag, -came to welcome the strangers. The newcomers were bidden to enter and -there was no limit to their hospitable entertainment. - -The flag-bearers were two homesick Southern girls, married to the sons -of a leading Dutch family. They had not visited their native land since -their marriage, and, oh! how they longed to see the dear old South -again! When their countrymen set foot at Curaçao, all of the slumbering -mother-country love broke forth again, and the old flag came out, and -they feasted the strangers, and did their utmost to honour the precious -sentiment of loyalty to home. And, after the ices and cooling drinks and -fruits and confections, they and their friends were invited aboard -ship, where it was our pleasure to make their acquaintance. - -We find here, as we have in all the other islands, that the leading -families--the men in power--are comparatively pure representatives of -the original colonising stock; that is, pure Dutch, Dane, Castilian, -French, as the case may be; but that the people are a strange mixture of -all nationalities, speaking languages for the most part unwritten, -handed down from generation to generation by word of mouth, strangely -intangible, and yet as fixed and well recognised among the people as is -the old Common Law in the courts of Anglo-Saxon countries. Our friends -in Curaçao tell us that the well-born natives speak Dutch, English, -Spanish, and often French, with equal facility; added to this is another -language which must be learned in order to deal with the common people. - -This curious language--"_Papaimiento_," it is called--has been reduced -to a certain degree of form in order to facilitate its being taught in -the schools. Children learn this language from their nurses, just as our -Southern children acquire the negro dialect from the old "mammies." The -comparison cannot be carried out to its full extent for the reason that, -while our negro dialect bears a close and intelligible likeness to -English, _Papaimiento_ is so unlike Dutch as to render its acquisition -almost as difficult for a Dutchman as that of any other foreign -language, but fortunately the Dutch are good linguists. It bears, of -course, some likeness to Dutch in the fundamentals, but aside from that, -it is a strange combination of speech--perhaps more Spanish than -anything else--put together, it would seem, to meet the needs of as many -people as possible. The meaning of the name _Papaimiento_ is, in the -dialect, "The talk we talk," _i. e._, "our language." - -Curaçao lies some fifty miles off the coast of South America, and her -favourable position between Venezuela and the Windward Islands has made -her free port a most desirable one for the smugglers who wish to supply -cheap goods to the South American ports. Thousands of flimsy tin-covered -trunks ready for Venezuelan voyagers bear evidence of her popularity as -a free and unquestioning port. Here, also, many steamers touch. But, -above all, Curaçao is the haunt and refuge of the disappointed or -temporarily exiled Spanish American politician or revolutionist. - -Here, like puppets in a show, appear from time to time many noble -patriots ready to fight for their undying principles and incidentally to -absorb any loose property in the track of their conquering "armies;" and -here hies the deposed "President," or the lately conquered general, with -his chests of treasure, waiting for a ship to his beloved Paris. Watch -our own American newspapers for the warlike notes that Willemstad, -Curaçao, ever feeling the pulse of northern South America, sends out to -the world. Did she not give us the earliest news of Cervera's mysterious -fleet? Does she not thrill us with the momentous gymnastics of President -Castro, and the blood-curdling intentions of General Matos, General -Uribe-Uribe, General Santiago O'Flanigan _et hoc genus omne_? - -The date of our visit to Curaçao is about the time of the little Queen -of Holland's wedding, so that Wilhelmina and her prospects, and all the -gossip attending so charming a personage, becomes with us, as we sit -chatting together on the deck, a lively topic of interest. Mrs. C---- -tells us of a gold box which is to be sent the young queen as a bridal -gift from her subjects in Curaçao; a box fashioned after the most -perfect art of the native goldsmith, in filigree so rare that none but a -queen were fit to open it. This box, perchance the size of Pandora's -once enchanted casket, is to be filled with the needlework of Curaçaoan -women--work as far-famed as the lace of Maracaibo, the lace we expected -to see everywhere in Caracas, while we were then so near the Maracaibo -country, but which one can never find unless the open-sesame of the -Spanish home is discovered, as impossible a task as the quest of the -immortal Ponce de Leon. We did not see the Maracaibo lace, nor the -Curaçaoan lace, and we are told that such a disappointment is not -unusual; it is only for the elect--the Curaçaoan people themselves--that -these wonderful specimens of the skill of patient women are visible. - -I shall never forget hearing that unwritten page in the tragic history -of Spain's noble son, Admiral Cervera, as the Doctor in his quiet, low -voice told how the great admiral touched first at Curaçao after his -long and perilous voyage from Spain. It was the Doctor's son who sent -the cable message to the United States, telling that the Spanish fleet -was in the offing. But it was the Doctor himself who went with the -surgeons who had been sent ashore by Cervera on their humiliating -errand, to all the pharmacies in Curaçao for surgical supplies. The -fleet had been hurried from Spain unprepared, and in fact almost -unseaworthy, with not so much as a single bandage aboard or the most -ordinary necessities for the immediate succour of the wounded. They had -absolutely nothing in the way of such medical and surgical equipment at -hand, although they knew their imminent and terrible need for just such -things. Doctor C----, with the true physician's love for his fellow men, -went from pharmacy to pharmacy with the surgeon, and bought up all the -bandages and gauze and iodoform and other supplies which were to be -found. Meantime detachments from the ships' crews began to land--hungry -and worn, sad with the shadow of the great coming tragedy--and they fell -upon the island like a lot of starved wolves. They actually had not -food enough aboard to keep body and soul together, for the corrupt and -procrastinating government at Madrid had not even properly victualled -this fleet of war-ships before sending them to their certain -destruction. The market was cleaned of everything it could afford, and -even then it was a mere drop in the bucket to that unhappy host. Later -Doctor C---- went out to the flag-ship with the surgeon, and spoke with -Cervera, who prophetically told him that he knew he was going to his -doom--but it had to be! And the twisted skeletons of those noble ships -which we later saw strewn from Santiago on along the southern Cuban -coast was but the fulfilment of the miserable fate he then so clearly -foresaw, but which, after his unavailing pleas to the Spanish government -before sailing, the staunch old admiral, with a Spaniard's pride and -bravery, would not avoid. For so it was written! Is there not a strain -of the Moor's fatalism still traceable in the true Spaniard? - -Thus as we chat with our new-found friends on topics grave and gay -through the noon hour and on into mid-afternoon, the people of the city -continue to crowd one another, row upon row, on the dock. A native band -plays our national airs and Dutch national airs, and our decks are -filled with visitors--the governor of the island and his suite and -ladies, and fine little solemn-eyed and suspiciously dark-skinned Dutch -children; and, in the midst of all the visiting and moving back and -forth, some one asks Doctor W---- how the islanders feel about -absorption by the United States--apparently a possibility now present in -the mind of every West Indian; and the not surprising answer is made, -that, for his part, he--a Dutchman, Holland-born--would favour -annexation; and from the wild enthusiasm of the people ashore, as the -bugle sounds the first warning of departure, one might readily believe -that so favourable, so friendly, is the feeling for the United States, -that the slightest advances toward peaceable annexation would be met -with universal favour. And so the merchants also talked. - -The houses begin to move,--no, it's our boat herself, slowly, very -slowly. We drop our shore-lines, and shout after shout rings after us. -The populace moves in a mass along the quay, and the native band beats -away its very loudest, and the bigger marine band aboard beats even -louder, and it's a jumble of national airs in different keys, and -hurrahs, and the people following along the quay. We wave our -handkerchiefs until our arms are tired. One black-faced, bandannaed, -Dutch conglomerate in her enthusiasm whips off her bright skirt, and in -a white petticoat and red chemise she waves the fluttering skirt in the -breeze. - -If the United States ever seriously contemplates the annexation of any -of the West Indian islands, the surest way, and the quickest way, to -bring it about would be to send ship-loads of pleasure-seeking -Americans, for bimonthly visits, leave their mania for buying things -unrestrained, and, before diplomacy has had time to put on its dress -suit, the islanders would beg for annexation. - -[Illustration: A SNUG HARBOUR - -Willemstad, Curaçao] - -Do not deceive yourself into the belief that you will find El Dorado in -these islands, where the products of the country, food, and lodging, can -be bought for a song; where one can get full value for money expended. -On the contrary, values have become so distorted by the extravagance of -some American tourists that to be recognised as an American is a -signal for the most extortionate demands from the hotel-keeper to the -market-woman. The system of extravagant feeing and still more our -readiness to pay what is asked us instead of bargaining and haggling -over prices as the natives do, and as is confidently expected of any -sane human being, has so demoralised service and the native scale of -prices that it is fairly impossible to obtain the ordinary necessities -for which one expects to pay in the hotel bill, without giving -needlessly large fees to the servants who happen to be in your -attendance; or to find anything offered at a reasonable price in the -markets. - -At the sight of an American--and we are readily distinguished--the -prices advance, and the unoffending tourist is obliged to suffer for the -extravagance of those who have gone before him. This infection has -spread through all the islands, and there has not been a port on our -entire cruise wholly free from its effect. Perhaps, however, Willemstad -was the pleasantest of all in this respect, for it is a free port, used -to low prices and the ways of outsiders. - -It might be possible to go through the islands at a reasonable expense, -provided one spoke the language necessary at the various ports with -ease, and had the time and patience to bargain and shop indefinitely; -provided, _also_, one could beat against the tide which sweeps the -American toward the "Gran Hotel." Let him but once depart from his -ancestral traditions of simple habits, let him but enter the portico of -the "Gran Hotel," and he at once becomes the prey of every known species -of human vulture. It is the old story of Continental Europe over again. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THE SOUTHERN CROSS - - -"Wake up! Wake up! If you want to see the Southern Cross, wake up and -come on deck!" And we remember how long we had been waiting for those -wonderful stars, and how Daddy, who many nights slept on deck, had told -us that he often saw them, and how we had, night after night, vowed we -would make the effort to awaken at two in the morning, and how, each -night, we had slept along, too tired with the wonder days to move an -inch until bugle-call. - -But here comes this far-off voice again calling us from the Northland of -dreams, and it seems to be saying, "This is your last chance. By -to-morrow (whenever that uncertainty comes!) the stars will have rolled -away, or you will have sailed along, and there will be no Southern -Cross, and you may as well not have come away down here to the Spanish -Main at all if you miss seeing it,"--and then we wake a bit more, and -the figure in the doorway stands there with "come" on his face, and -"wake up!" on his lips, and we try to think how sorry we shall be if we -do not see the Southern Cross. And then the door closes with a rather -contemptuous click, and we land in the middle of the floor, aroused by -the disappearance of the figure in pajamas and by our somewhat -reawakened sense of duty. - -Throwing on light wrappers, the little girls stumble along after me to -where our man stands leaning against the rail, his face turned skyward. - -"There it is--see? Right in the south, directly opposite the Great Bear -that sunk below the northern horizon two hours ago. One star down quite -low, near the horizon, and one almost in a straight line above, and one -at either side equal distances apart, like an old four-cornered kite. -You must imagine the cross. But it's hardly what it's cracked up to be!" -And we blink at the stars, and they blink at us, and we feel strangely -unreal and turned about. - -What in all the world has the Southern Cross to do with the nineteenth -century? It belongs to Blackbeard, and the great procession of pirates -and roving buccaneers who swept these seas in tall-sparred, black-hulled -craft, some hundreds of years ago. One or the other of us is out of -place. The only consistent part of the night is, that, while our eyes -are searching for the four luminous dots in the Southern Cross, our ship -is plunging on toward Jamaica, that one-time Mecca of the bandit rover -of the sea. There he found safe harbour and friends in the same -profession; there it was that the hoards of Spanish gold and plate and -all conceivable sorts of plunder, taken from the hapless merchantmen, -were bought and sold and gambled away. But, without the accompaniment of -roystering pirates and swaggering buccaneers, the Southern Cross seems -out of joint. Jamaica may do as she is, but, as we look out across the -scurrying waters, there's a malicious twinkle to the top star in the -Southern Cross and that makes us all the more determined to give it an -opportunity to renew old acquaintance. We'll have a pirate--we must have -a pirate, if not a real one, bloody and black and altogether -fascinating, we must conjure one by magic! Pirates there must be! So, to -pacify our insatiable desire to resuscitate the ghostly heroes of the -long-dead past, the Spanish Student offers a yarn. - -Four bells of the second night watch rings out, and "All's well!" floats -above our heads, and the witching hour of two in the morning brings the -proper flavour to the story. We cuddle down on some stray ship chairs, -and the story begins: - -"Once upon a time--" - -"Oh, dear! Is it to be a 'once upon a time' story, Dad? Then it won't be -real," breaks in the Wee One. - -"Yes, it is real, Chick; at least, so far as I know. But you must not -interrupt me again. If you do, I might forget, and then the Cross up -there would put out its lights and go to bed." - -"No, Dad, I'll be good." - -"Well, once upon a time, there was a doughty old French Corsair, who was -one of the most daring pirates on the Spanish Main. Morals were in a -topsyturvy state in those days, and in none were they more -wrong-side-to than in this famous old Frenchman. He had a long, low, -topsail schooner, painted black, with sharp clipper stem, clean flush -decks and tall and raking masts, and--" - -"I know all about him, Dad. He had a black beard, and he used to braid -it in lots of pigtails, and tie it with ribbons," says Wee One, again. - -"Now, Toddlekins, what did I say? I shall certainly bundle you off to -bed. No, it wasn't Blackbeard, but it was a pirate just as fierce and -fully as bad mannered. This old fellow had been rampaging around here, -there, and everywhere, all about this Caribbean Sea and along the -Spanish Main, in search of ships and gold and prisoners, and -occasionally even food, and in fact anything of value he might come -across; when not very far from where we are now--yes, just about this -latitude, it was, but a few leagues more to the west--by the light of -the stars--yes, by the light of this very Southern Cross, he makes out -the land, and soon after spies a tidy, prosperous little village handy -to the shore of a palm-fringed inlet. Like the provident pirate that he -was, he at once decides that he is both hungry and thirsty and that his -lusty followers are short of rations. Here is a likely port from which -to supply. - -"So off goes a long-boat filled with his precious cutthroats, carrying a -pressing invitation to the village priest and some of his friends to -come aboard. The fat priest is routed out and escorted to the waiting -boat; he understands his mission, he has seen such men before. So, -taking along a few chosen friends, he makes the best of a bad business -and is rowed off to the ship in short order. The citizens, meanwhile, -are requisitioned for all sorts of food and drink, and the priest and -his friends have a jolly time of it as hostages. But as his wit grows -with the wine it occurs to our Corsair that, with a priest aboard, Holy -Church should have due reverence, and roars out his imperative -suggestion that mass would be in order. An altar is rigged up on the -quarter-deck, holy vestments and vessels are quickly brought from the -village church, and the ship's crew are summoned to assemble and warned -to take hearty part in the service. In place of music, broadsides are -ordered fired from the pirate's cannon after the _Credo_, after the -_Elevation_, and after the _Benediction_. At the _Elevation of the -Host_, the captain finds occasion to reprove a sailor for lack of -reverence. But at a second offence from the same trifler, out comes his -cutlass--a swift, shining circle follows the Corsair's blade, and off -flies the still grinning head and the blood spirts high from the jumping -trunk. The poor priest is startled, but the captain reassures him with -kind words, for, says he, it is only his duty and always his pleasure to -protect the sanctity of holy things; he would do the same thing -again--and a thousand times!--to any one who was disrespectful to the -Holy Sacrament. For why is there a great God above and his Holy Church -on earth except to be honoured? Then the service continues as if nothing -had happened and again comes the whine of the Latin chants and the -thunder of the reverent guns. - -"After mass, the body is heaved overboard and no burial rites are said, -for who shall try to save a heretic's soul? The priest is put ashore -with many a smile and oath and many a pious crossing, and our Corsair -and his pack of thieves go their way, having paid their respects to -Holy Church." - -"Oh, Dad!" says Toddlekins, "that was lovely; is it true? Tell us -another! Just one more! Don't you remember about Captain Kidd? - - "'My name was Captain Kidd, as I sailed, as I sailed, - My name was Robert Kidd, as I sailed. - My name was Robert Kidd, - God's laws I did forbid, - And wickedly I did, as I sailed.' - -"Don't you remember the other verses? You used to sing them to us on the -yacht before we ever thought of seeing the real Southern Cross." - -And just as the indulgent parent begins to waver, and the little girls -are sure they have won another story, down--down--down--drops a big -star, the foot of the Cross, millions of miles away, and the three -lonely wanderers still hanging low in the heavens reach out their great -shadowy arms in ghostly warning to those unthinking children of Adam who -defy time and sleep and all things reasonable, just for the sake of a -few old memories of a very questionable past. - -Then those three deserted stars quiver and shiver and hide behind the -wandering company of torch-bearers, and silently disappear, and a tired -moon gives a vague uncertainty to sea and air. - -In spite of the early morning mystery, all our efforts to reinstate the -French Corsair, the black-hulled phantom, and the headless sailor, fail. - -The decks of the ship are damp and empty and long. The ungainly deck -chairs are locked together in gruesome lines like monstrous grasshoppers -dying in winrows, and the great engines below beat and throb, and the -water rolls past us in giant breathings, full of the sighs of dead men -lying fathoms deep beneath our keel, and the stars sink lower and lower, -and we are hurrying on toward the morning. Our eyes are still longing -for sleep, and the little girls flutter down below, and we two after -them. In the morning, after some strange dreams, we lie at anchor off -the Blue Mountains of Jamaica. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -KINGSTON, JAMAICA - - -I. - -Had he not come aboard, it is doubtful if even the "kirk-ganging habit" -inherited from a long line of devout ancestors could have dragged us to -the service. But there was an unforgettable something in his face which -compelled us, in spite of the intense heat, to leave ship by a -shore-boat on Sunday morning and inquire the way to the Parish Church. - -[Illustration: KINGSTON, JAMAICA, FROM THE BAY] - -Shortly after we had dropped anchor in Kingston Harbour, early on -Saturday, we saw the rector of the English Church being rowed through -the crowd of fruit-boats, which were bobbing about us like so many -brilliant birds; but it was with considerable difficulty that he was -finally enabled to reach the ship, so strenuous were the black -fruiterers to give their wares the best possible showing. They were -well worth the showing, too, for such masses and varieties and colours -were a marvel indeed, even in the tropics. The shaddocks were as big as -melons, and the tangerines, measuring some fifteen inches in -circumference, were dyed as deep a yellow as the colour sense could -grasp, and piled in great, heaping baskets, were watched over by -beflowered negresses, who sat motionless in the boats, except for their -great rolling eyes. - -The oranges of Mandeville, Jamaica, were well known to us through the -accounts of former travellers, but no description had ever brought a -suggestion of the true radiance of the Jamaican fruit as it shone forth -that brilliant morning. After one look, the little girls ran down to the -stateroom for the St. Thomas basket, to fill it to the very handle-tip -with luscious tangerines. And while they scampered off with the basket -brimful, the lid pressed back by piles of tender, yellow beauties, a -strange boat-load of new passengers blocked the way once more for the -good priest, and he leaned patiently back in his boat, as if he knew -that to protest would be of no avail. - -The newcomers were two enormous live sea-turtles which the fishermen -hauled up the gangway by a stout cable. The turtles groaned and puffed -and flapped, and the little girls wanted them turned on their legs just -to see what would happen; it would be such fun to ride a-turtle-back. -And Wee One says, "Why, Mother! They are just like 'John the Baptist,' -our pet turtle at home, only lots and lots bigger. I wish they'd turn -over." But the sailors had evidently handled turtles before, for they -were left on their backs and were--after having been duly wondered -at--dragged down the deck out of sight, to reappear again in stew and -_fricassee_, not in steak as the Jamaicans serve them. But Sister -laments. She and Little Blue Ribbons wanted to see the turtles run. -"Mother, if they had only been right side up we could have helped turn -them on their backs just like the 'Foreign Children' Stevenson tells -about,-- - - "'You have seen the scarlet trees - And the lions over seas; - You have eaten ostrich eggs, - And turned the turtles off their legs.'" - -[Illustration: RIO COBRE, NEAR SPANISH TOWN - -Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Meanwhile, as the way clears, the priest reaches the ship, and is soon -lost among the crowd of passengers who are waiting for the first boat -ashore. - -All of Saturday, we wandered about the dusty, uninteresting streets of -Kingston, waiting for the great impression. But it didn't come. We were -ready and willing to admire the beautiful, but it did not appear. -Kingston was even more unattractive than Port of Spain, Trinidad; -dirtier, hotter, and in every way dull and uninteresting. Had it not -been for the Blue Mountains, against which Kingston leans, and the -glorious old Northeast Trades which fan her wayworn features, and for -the sea at her feet, we could not have forgiven her frowsy appearance. -The whole place had a "has been" air, with unkempt streets, and low, -square, dumpy-looking houses, facing each other like tired old tramps. - - -II. - -In order to form a just estimate of the Englishman's work and methods in -Jamaica, one must leave Kingston, and take to the roads outside, for -example that one along the Rio Cobre which winds in and out among the -mountains in a most enchanting course. This particular drive of eleven -miles, called the "Bog Walk Drive," leads to a little settlement called -"Bog Walk." It is to be hoped that there was at one time some excuse for -this name, but as bogs do not disappear in a day, it must have been in -quite a distant past that the name had any real significance. We saw no -suggestion of a Bog Walk, although actively on the alert for it. We had -uncertain anticipations of having to scramble over wet and oozing turf, -and one of us, without saying a word to any one else, tucked a pair of -rubbers into a capacious basket. But the rubbers stayed right there, for -there was no bog, nor any suggestion of one,--funny way these English -have of naming things! - -And speaking of names,--well, there never was a place--except other -English colonial towns--where the good old British custom of naming -houses is more rampant than in Kingston. Had the houses of some -pretension been so labelled, it might not have seemed so strange; but, -no, every little cottage had a name painted somewhere on its gate-post, -and very grandiloquent ones they were, I assure you. No two-penny -affairs for them! There was "Ivy Lodge" and "Myrtle Villa" and -"Ferndale" and "Oakmere" and "The Hall," tacked on to the wobblety -fence-posts of the merest shanties. And yet, in spite of their apparent -incongruity, there was a sort of pitiful fitness in those names. It was -a holding-on, in a crude way, to some half-forgotten ideal of the old -English life. It might have been a memory of the far-away mother -country, left as the only legacy to a Creole generation; it might have -been the last reaching for gentility; who can tell what "The Hall" meant -to the inmates of that shambling roof. But for the "Bog Walk" there was -no reason apparent, and we did not waste a bit of sympathy on the -supposititious man who first sank to his armpits in what may have been a -bog. - -The Bog Walk road is wide enough for the passing of vehicles, and as -solid as a rock. The English in the West Indies--as elsewhere--have ever -been great road-builders. Now this bit of road--eleven miles long, as -smooth as a floor, as firmly built as the ancient roads of Rome--is part -of a great system of roads which extends for hundreds of miles -throughout the island, and these roads have been constructed with so -much care that, in spite of the torrents of tropical rain which must at -times flood them, they remain as firm and enduring as the mountains -themselves, seemingly the only man-made device in the West Indies which -has been able to withstand the ravages of the tropical elements. - -Jamaica is one hundred and forty-four miles long and fifty miles wide, -and its entire area is a network of these wonderful roads. Roads which -would grace a Roman Empire, here wind through vast lonely forests and -plantations of coffee and cacao, past towns whose ramshackle houses are -giving the last gasps of dissolution. Jamaica has evidently suffered -under the affliction of road-making governors, whose single purpose has -been to build roads though all else go untouched, and they have held to -that ambition with bulldog pertinacity. No one can deny the wonder of -the Jamaican highway. But whither, and to what, does it lead? Good roads -are truly civilisers, and essential to the good of a country, but there -must be a reason for their existence which is mightier than the way -itself. Had there been half as many forest roads in Jamaica as there are -now, and the money which has been buried in practically unused paths -put into good schools and the encouragement of agriculture, Jamaica -might to-day show a very different face. The most casual observation -tells us of vast, unreasoning waste of money on the beautiful island, -and one cannot but pity the patient blacks who have suffered so much -from the poor administration of their white brothers. - -[Illustration: A NATIVE HUT - -Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -It was our pleasure to drive some distance on these hard turnpikes, and -in miles we met but one conveyance of any kind, and that was a rickety -old box on wheels, carrying a family of coolies to Spanish Town. - -This place out-Spanished any Spanish town we had ever seen in filth and -general dilapidation. It was simply a lot of rambling old shacks, -huddled together under the long-suffering palms--dirty, forlorn, -forsaken, never good for much when young, and beyond redemption in its -puerile old age. Down through these haunts of the half-naked blacks, -there sweeps a road fit for a chariot and four. Diamond necklaces are -queenly prerogatives, and the proper setting for a royal feast; but, -thrown about the neck of a starving child, they are, to say the least, -out of place. Nothing can be more entrancing, when perfect of its kind, -than either diamonds or children, but they do not belong together. It -may be, that, when the child is grown, circumstances will make the -wearing of such a necklace a graceful adornment, but, until that time -does come, the child's belongings should be those of simple necessity, -all else being sacrificed to the normal growth of body and mind; let -this be once well under way and adornments may follow. Jamaica has given -her children a diamond necklace, and, although magnificent and -wonderful, it is out of place, and the worst of it is, the children have -had to pay dearly for it. - -What Jamaica would have been under wise and prudent management, and with -a different racial problem, no one can say. She has certainly never been -lacking in resources, nor has she lacked amenable--though not always -desirable--subjects. But there is a hitch somewhere, and to find that -hitch would take a long unravelling of a torn and broken skein, the kind -of work few care to undertake; but it is the work which must be done if -Jamaica is ever to have a future. - -[Illustration: THE BOG WALK ROAD, NEAR SPANISH TOWN - -Jamaica] - -Dusty and hot and still wondering where the "Bog Walk" would appear, we -left the carriages for an inn which stood close to the road. It was -somewhat--no, I should say much--above the average Jamaican house, -passably clean, just passably, and in a way rather inviting to the -traveller who is glad enough to go anywhere, where he can be satisfied, -if he is hungry and tired. But the house was not what I wanted to tell -you about; it was the _grande dame_ within, who played the indifferent -hostess. We did not see her as we ran up-stairs to the upper balcony; it -was well after we had sipped our rum and lemonade--for we did sip it; we -not only sipped it, but we drank it, and it was fine, and we felt so -comfortable that, when she--_la grande dame_--appeared, it never -occurred to us to express our disappointment over the Bog Walk; we just -agreed with her in everything she said, and felt beatific. I think we -would have agreed with her even without the rum and lemonade, for she -had an air about her that made one feel acquiescent. She was tall and -angular. Her features were as clean-cut as though chiselled in marble; -she was clearly Caucasian in type. Her lips were thin, her nose was -aquiline, and her mouth had a haughty, indifferent curve, suggesting a -race of masters, not slaves. But her skin was like a smoke-browned pipe, -and her hair was glossy, and waved in quick little curves in spite of -the tightly drawn coil at the back of her stately neck. She was dressed -in the fashion of long ago, with a full flounced skirt and a silk shawl. -She sent her menials to wait upon us, although I noticed that, in spite -of herself, she was taking an interest in the strangers. - -The Madame went before, and we followed, through the ever-open door of -the West Indian home. The Madame's skirts swept over the uneven -threshold, over the bare, creaky floors, and her noiseless feet led the -way into a past, rich in romance and disaster. The Madame had little to -say; she just glided on before us like a black memory. Here on the bare, -untidy floors were the Madame's treasures; treasures she used daily, for -the table was spread (the Madame served dinner there just the hour -before). Here was a table of Dominican mahogany with carved legs and -oval top, and there on the sideboard was rare old plate, and quaintest -pieces of Dresden china and Italian glass glistened as it once had done -near the lips of its lordly master. The side-table of mahogany gave out -a dull, rich lustre of venerable age, and there was a punch-bowl--silver, -and much used--and curious candlesticks with glass shades. Ah! The -Madame was rich. What a place, I thought, for a lover of the antique! - -In her bedroom hard-by, a massive four-poster reached to the ceiling, -and off in a dark corner there was an old chest, richly ornamented with -brass. In every room there were chairs and davenports in quaintest -fashion, all dull and worn and beautiful, while the billiard-room -outside was well filled by a massive old-fashioned rosewood -billiard-table whose woodwork, undermined by the extensive ravages of -ants, was fast falling in pieces. "Where has it come from?" we ask; and -she replies, with a lofty air, that her grandfather brought all these -over from England long, long ago. No doubt the Madame would have sold -any and all of it, and we caught ourselves wondering how we could get -one of those old pieces home. It really seemed as if we ought to buy -something, for the black Madame, towering above us, certainly expected -to make a sale. But we didn't buy; we just admired it all, and -particularly the Madame, and then we began again to try and think out -the dreary tangle. - -There was just one thing the Madame had which she would not sell, and -that was the one thing we wanted most: the story of that grandfather. -She was the _grande dame_; his history was sealed behind those -unfathomable eyes. She admitted only the patrician in her blood, not the -savage. The grandfather had left his stamp upon that face, but there was -that other stamp! Alas, the Englishman has sold his birthright in -Jamaica; he is selling it to-day, and what more hopeless future could -rest over a people than does this day over the island of Jamaica? - - -III. - -And now we are back in Kingston, the city. "How would it be for us to -leave Daddy here--he wants to be measured at the military tailor's for -some khaki suits--and run off down the street on the shady side, to what -seems to be a 'Woman's Exchange?'" The little girls, always ready for a -new expedition, take the lead, and for once we found a sign which was -not misleading. It proved to be a veritable Woman's Exchange, filled -with no end of curious specimens of native workmanship which had been -brought there for sale. Among the natural curios--to us the most -wonderful--was a branch of what is known as the lacebark-tree. The -botanist will have to tell you its real unpronounceable name. For us -"lacebark" answers very well, because we don't know the other, and have -no way of finding it out just now. Who ever thought of carrying an -encyclopedia in a steamer-trunk? I am sadly conscious that we even -forgot the pocket-dictionary. Please forgive us this time! But it was -the tree that interested us, not its name. Its fibrous inner bark (much -like the bark of our Northern moosewood) is made of endless layers of -lacelike network, which can be opened and stretched a great width, even -in the bark of a bit of wood an inch and a half in diameter. These -layers of lace are separated and opened into flowerlike cups, with rim -upon rim of lacy edge, all coming from the one solid stick of wood, or -carefully unrolled into filmy sheets of net-like tissue. The native -whips are made by taking long branches of this tree, scraping off the -brittle outer bark, opening the inner fibrous bark, and braiding the -ends into a tapering lash as long as one wishes. Hats are trimmed with -scarfs of this dainty woodland lace, and even dresses are said to be -made from this cloth of the forest, which rivals in loveliness the -fairest weaving of Penelope. - -The gracious woman in charge told us that, while the Exchange was -self-supporting, it owed its existence to the liberality of an American -girl, who had many years ago married an English nobleman. And it made me -glad to think that our glorious American women had, with all their -foolish love for titles, a generous hand for woman the world over, and -that, wherever they wandered, their ways could be followed by the light -of their liberality. In a way, the Exchange--founded by an American -woman--made us forgive much in Kingston; so, when we took the street up -to the Myrtle Bank Hotel, expecting from its name to find a sweet, -delicious caravansary, embowered in myrtle green and magnolia, and -found the "Myrtle Bank" an arid sand beach, with a large, -self-sufficient modern hotel built therein, we still forgave, because we -said we would for the sake of that dear American girl who couldn't quite -forget. - -And then, too, the Doctor met us straight in the doorway; not the newly -made Philadelphia doctor. No, not that one; it was the other one, the -Northeast Trade, the million-year-old West Indian Doctor. Do you suppose -he is as old as that? Yes, even older. But, for all that, he's as -faithful to his trust as though but yesterday he had slipped from out -the wrangling of chaos. So we kiss the Doctor, and run up after him into -the big, spacious parlour of the Myrtle Bank Hotel, drop down into a -delightful rocker, and think it all over. - -Here we are in Kingston, owned by the English, governed by the English, -bullyragged by the English,--but where is he, the Englishman, where the -Englishwoman? To be sure, we found some white faces in the shops, and we -remembered seeing a few fair-haired, sallow little girls. And we saw on -the street, just as we left the Exchange, an Englishman with a golf-bag -on his shoulder; but these were the landmarks only--the exception. The -people we saw were of all shades of a negro admixture, and some very -black ones at that. - -But the Myrtle Bank Hotel was not the place for such reflections. At -least, so the good Doctor seemed to think, for he had no sooner brought -us under the magic of his presence, than we were carried into the most -affable state of contentment with all things visible, and it was not -until the next morning that the question fully dawned upon us in its -true significance. - - -IV. - -[Illustration: WHERE WE LANDED - -Kingston, Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -I suppose we might have walked from the boat-landing to the Parish -Church embowered in its palms a few blocks away, but even that short -distance was exaggerated by the early hot glare of the sun. The -Northeast Trade was taking his morning nap, and the air was utterly -motionless. So Daddy hails a cab, and we rumble off in the direction of -some ringing bells. The town, as we drove along, had the dead look of an -English Sunday morning; there were few people visible, and those we -saw were evidently following the bells, as we were. Back of our desire -to go where the face of the priest was leading us, there was a hope -that, in attending an English church, presided over by a white, English -priest, we should there see the representative people of Kingston, the -white owners of the island. This church was one of the few beautiful -sights in Kingston. Truly, some good priest of the olden time must have -planned with lingering touch the graceful garden which so lovingly -enshrined the venerable spot. An avenue of palms, singing their silvery -song all the long day, skirted on either side the wide stone walk to the -entrance, and bent their long, waving arms very close to our heads as we -stepped within the doorway. The church, as an ancient tablet indicated, -was built in the latter part of the seventeenth century. It followed the -sweet lines of the English cathedral, built from time to time, as one -could readily observe from the varying indications of age in the -structure itself. - -We were early for the service, for the second bell had not rung. The -priest met us at the door. He was a man of ripe years, with close-cut -whitening hair, and a face that one would always remember. It was framed -in strength and moulded by the love of God. There was in it that -indefinable beauty which comes from a sacrificial life, from a life -breathed upon by the spirit of holiness and quiet. There were no lines -of unrest there; the poise of divine equilibrium was his living -benediction, and we followed him down the stone aisle, over the memorial -slabs of the departed great buried beneath, to a seat just the other -side of a massive white pillar, midway between open windows on one side -and an open door on the other, where the grateful breeze, now faintly -rustling the palms without, swept in upon us in delicious waves. - -We were placed quite well in front of the transept, and as we waited -there in the quiet old building, I began to make a mental estimate of -just where the different classes of Jamaican society would find -themselves. Here, where we were, would be the whites, and back beyond -the transept, the negroes, and in the choir, of course, the fair-haired -English boys. Then the old bell began to ring again, and a few of our -fellow voyagers came in and took seats in front of us,--notably Mr. and -Mrs. F----, who had been the guests of the priest the day before. The -church was filling. The owners of the seat in which the priest had -placed us arrived, and we were requested by a silent language, which -speaks more forcibly than words, to move along and make room. In the -meantime, the pew was also filled from the other side, and in the same -dumb language we were requested to move back the other way. Thus we were -wedged in closely between the two respective owners of the seat. And -they were not white owners,--they were black, brown, yellow--but not -white. The church filled rapidly. It filled to the uttermost. Mr. and -Mrs. F----, in front of us, were obliged to separate, for, when the -owners of their seat arrived, they simply stood there until Mr. F---- -was forced to leave his wife and crowd in somewhere else. The pew-owners -were the rightful possessors, and the white man or the stranger -apparently of little consequence. There was every conceivable shade of -the African mixture. The choir was made up partially of black negresses, -partially of yellow girls, with men of all hues besides, and the whole -congregation in this Church of England was similarly mixed, with the -black blood strongly predominant. I saw, outside of our party, only one -Englishwoman and one Englishman, and a few about whom I was doubtful, -and those were all. The blacks were very far from being the true type of -African. In some cases, there would be the negro face in all its -characteristics, with one exception, and that would be the oblique eyes -of the Chinese. There were Japanese negroes, and Chinese negroes, and -English and French negroes. It was a horrible mixture of negro with -every other people found in the island, with the negro in the ascendant. - -I saw no marks of deference paid to the white strangers; they were -placed in the same position in which a negro would find himself in a -Mississippi gathering of white people. If you have ever witnessed the -enthusiasm with which the negro is welcomed in such places, you can -understand our position that day in Jamaica. We had been told of the -contempt in which the white man is held in Haïti, and, not having -experienced it, were disinclined to believe such an abnormal state of -things. But, here in Jamaica, without ever having been informed of -the state of society, we felt it as plainly as if it had been emblazoned -on the sign-boards. We were not welcome and we felt it. We were out of -our element. - -[Illustration: EL MORRO, ENTRANCE TO HARBOUR - -Santiago de Cuba - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -The people were all well clothed,--many in elegance. The most of them in -white and black; court mourning for the queen. - -And then the grand old service began,--that wonderful world-encircling -service of our old English Mother Church--always the same and always -sufficient--and it was all so strange,--the feeling I had about that -word "we." There was a slow dawning in my soul that never before had the -word "humanity" meant anything but a white humanity to me--a universal -love for black, yellow, chocolate, brown, saffron humanity had never -come fully into my consciousness. And, while I sat there in that vast, -black assemblage, the long, terrible past of Jamaica arose before me, -and, too, the doubtful future loomed up in gloomy outlines, and I -wondered what would be the outcome of it all. Where would the Englishman -be in another century in Jamaica? Would Jamaica revert back to the -Haïtien type, or is some hand coming to uphold the island? It is far -from my intention to touch upon the political situation in -Jamaica,--especially as I don't know anything about it. I can only tell -you what I saw, and you can draw your own conclusions. All I can say is, -where is the white man in Jamaica? What is his position, and what has -brought him into his present deplorable condition? Has the white blood -after all so little potency? - -One needs but to glance at James Anthony Froude's masterful book, "The -English in the West Indies," in order to see the why and wherefore of it -all. His words have greater force to-day than even at the time of his -writing, for the course of events has more than justified his -predictions. - -Our opinions of the situation were wholly unbiased, for we did not read -Froude's account until long after, so that our sensations, our -surprises, at the Jamaican English Church service, were wholly original. - -[Illustration: THE PLAZA - -Cienfuegos, Cuba] - -The service proceeded through the prayers--our prayers--and then came -the sermon. I shall never forget the text. It was taken from that -masterpiece of Biblical literature, the thirteenth chapter of First -Corinthians: "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and -have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." - -The priest had been there for over thirty years, and he began: - -"Beloved in the Lord, my children!" And we, white and black, were all -his children. We were in a strangely reversed situation, for even the -good priest had the tawny hue of Africa faintly shining in his fine -face. No mention of colour distinction was made: but which of us was to -have the charity? Did it not seem that he pleaded for the white -man--that the stronger black should have more charity? Or was it for us -as well? And it seemed to me I realised for the first time the position -of our well-bred Southerner; and everything was jumbled and queer in my -mind as the priest spoke. And his beautiful strong face shone over the -people, and his voice quivered with a deep love, touching the raiment of -one who said, "Come unto me all ye"--all--all--all! The white arches -echoed back the pleadings, the commands, the love, while in quiet -eloquence he told of One who set his face steadfastly toward Jerusalem. - -The church emptied itself, and we were left with the priest, and the old -sunken tombs, and the sleeping organ, and the white light streaming -through the windows. And we wondered if we had yet learned what the -Master meant when he said: - -"Come unto me all ye--" - -[Illustration: THE GRAVE OF CERVERA'S FLEET - -West of Santiago de Cuba] - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -"CUANDO SALIDE LA HABANA" - - "I sometimes think that never blows so red - The rose as where some buried Cæsar bled; - That every hyacinth the garden wears - Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head." - - -The dream days have come and gone. We have left historic Santiago with -its forts and battle-fields, and the beautiful harbour of busy -commercial Cienfuegos; we have skirted along the southern coast of Cuba, -Pearl of the Antilles, through the Yucatan Channel, into the Gulf of -Mexico, and now we are come to Havana, where countless voices call us in -every direction both day and night. - -And yet it is not of Santiago, the old _Merrimac_ lying in midchannel, -El Caney, or San Juan Hill that I am writing to-day--no, nor of the -wrecks of Cervera's fleet strewn in rocking skeletons along the coast. -No, those stories have long since been well told you--those tragic -stories of battle and death, gone now into the past with the echoes of -muffled drums and the shuffling feet of sick soldier boys, dragging -themselves home when the day of vengeance was over. No, it is not of -that I am writing, but of a day which I gave to you, O mothers of our -glorious marines! and I take it now from out the memories of those sunny -isles, a precious keepsake, that it may be yours for ever. - -You are known to me, yet I cannot speak your names. You are near to me, -yet the continent divides us. Your eyes speak to me, and yet, should we -meet, you would pass unrecognised. A universal love, a universal memory -has called you to me, and space cannot separate us. - -In this city of beauty, though alluring at every turn, there was one -pilgrimage, come what may, I would not fail to make. The Morro and -Cabañas might be slighted, but not that patch of green earth away over -the hill where the boys of the _Maine_ lie buried so near the waters -that engulfed them. - -[Illustration: WRECK OF THE MAINE - -Havana Harbour, Cuba - -Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Far from the city they rest, where none may trouble their deep slumbers. -Their only monument a bare worn path where thousands of those who loved -your boys and honoured their memory have trodden down the grass about -the lowly bed. - -It was a day as still as heaven, when in the City of the Dead I silently -took my way; and coming to their long home I knelt down in the moist -coverlet of grass and folding my hands looked up into the infinite depth -of the blue sky, which dropped its peaceful curtain so tenderly over -them. I seemed to stand upon a sun-kissed summit, from which I might -scan the whole earth. And it was from there, afar off, I felt the -yearning of your tears. I reached down to the earth and gathered some -humble little flowers which pitying had throbbed out their sweet souls -over the blessed dead; and I held them lovingly in my hands, and then -placed them within the leaves of a book, thinking that some day when we -should meet I would give them to you. And now they wait for your coming, -O mothers! I could give you naught more precious. - -Yes, the days have come and gone as all days must, and we shall soon -have left the Isles of Endless Summer. But so long as life lasts, their -radiance will enfold us, and when the day is done, we shall draw the -curtain well content, knowing that no greater beauty can await us than -this fair earth has brought. - -[Illustration: CABAÑAS, LA PUNTA, AND HARBOUR ENTRANCE - -Havana, Cuba - -Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -A MEMORY OF MARTINIQUE - - "La façon d'être du pays est si agréable, la température si bonne, - et l'on y vit dans une liberté si honnête, que je n'aye pas vu un - seul homme, ny une seule femme, qui en soient revenus, en qui je - n'aye remarqué une grande passion d'y retourner."--LE PÈRE - DUTERTRE, _writing in 1667_. - - -A few insignificant little photographs are lying on the desk before me. -Some of them are blurred; some of them are out of focus. They have been -for many months packed away among bundles of other photographs of a -similar character, moved from their corner in the library amongst the -books of travel, only to be occasionally dusted by the indifferent -housemaid and packed away again out of sight. - -Days come and days go, and things move on in uniform measure, and life -glides silently away from us, and one day passes much as does the day -before; and we plan and work and hope, and we build to-day upon the -assurances of yesterday and to-morrow; and, although we know that there -are times when love can be crushed out of a life, yet we base our hope -upon the eternal fixedness of love; and, although constantly face to -face with the mutability of all created things, we build upon the -eternal stability of matter. We hope by reason of an undying faith in -those we love; we build upon a belief in the immutability of the -everlasting hills; and we go on building and hoping until, with some, -there comes a day when the soul burns out, and the everlasting hills -crumble to ashes, and loving and building is no more, and there is never -loving or building again in the same way. - - * * * * * - -Much as we touch the sacred belongings of the beloved dead, do I now -bring forth from their lonely hiding-place the few photographs of St. -Pierre and the fascinating shores of Martinique, which we took last -winter, as we cruised through the Windward Islands. - -[Illustration: ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELÉE BEFORE THE ERUPTION - -Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -Having but just read the terrible tidings from Martinique that St. -Pierre has been utterly destroyed by volcanic eruption, and the fair -island left an ash-heap, these one-time insignificant little pictures -become at once inexpressibly dear to me; and I have been sitting here -for a long, long time, looking first at one and then at another, with a -tenderness born of sorrow and love. - -Say what you may of the futility of a love which clings to places, it is -nevertheless a passion so deeply rooted in some natures that neither -life nor death seem able to cause its destruction. There is no reasoning -with love; it is born to be, to exist, and why we love there is no -finding out. Strange, this wonderful loving which comes to you and me! -Not alone the love we lavish upon God's creatures; upon father, mother, -sister, brother, husband, wife, and children, and the whole world of -humankind; but upon all of God's handiwork: His trees, His flowers, His -dear brown soil, His hills, His valleys, His broad, sweeping plains, His -high, loftily crested peaks, His lonely byways, where shy birds and -soft-footed beasts hold high carnival the livelong day. - -Beloved as are all of God's creatures, there are for each one of us a -few, a very few, souls without whom loving would seem to pass away. -Beautiful as is the great earth, there are chosen spots upon it for you -and for me, to which our thoughts revert with an infinite tenderness; -and were such sweet abiding-places suddenly to be blotted from the -earth, it would seem to us as though beauty had died for ever. - -Such a treasure-house was St. Pierre to me. In the midst of islands, -each rivalling the other in loveliness, Martinique had a claim for -homage which none other possessed. Its charm was felt even far out to -sea, as its lofty headlands, with terrible _Pelée_ looking over, struck -a bold pace for the lesser isles to follow. - -As we approached the still, deep harbour,--although the hour was late -for landing,--we were so permeated by the puissant fascination of the -place, that, against the protests of old wiseacres aboard, we -nevertheless took the first available small boat, lured into the arms of -St. Pierre by her irresistible summons. - -And what was that summons? Who can tell? - -[Illustration: ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELÉE AFTER THE ERUPTION - -Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -The same hand beckoned us which has for generations been beckoning other -children of men; other children who have gone there to live and die -content; the same that beckoned old Father Dutertre hundreds of years -ago. Children's children have been born there, and have grown old and -withered, and have gone the way of all the earth, and _La Pelée_, the -giantess, has slept for generations, and the children had quite -forgotten that the day might come when she would awaken. _La Pelée_ was -slumbering, oh! so gently--so peacefully, that far-away night, when we -first wondered at her beauty--and we, too, forgot! For did not her -children say that she would never waken more? - -The soft, blue hills said, "Come!" The lonely peaks, beyond, said, -"Come!" And the little city waved its pretty white hand to us with -"Come!" in every motion; and the sweet-voiced creole lads, who rowed us -in, smiled, "Come!" and what could we do? - -And then, when we entered the little city, it was so snug and clean, and -it was all so different, so different. How can I explain it to you? -There was, as it were, a homogeneousness about the people which was not -apparent in the other islands. Here was a people whose sires had sprung -from the best blood of France, from a race of great men and women; here -the question of colour had been more harmoniously worked out; and we -felt at once that we were amongst those whose ancestors had learned, -through the streaming blood of kings and princes, the principles of -Liberty, Equality, and Justice. - -The people said, "Come!" and we answered, and long, long into the night -we were following the summons. - -Then it was that _La Pelée_ was fair, and she lay so still, so still, -that the children forgot--if they ever really knew--that very beautiful -women can sometimes be very wicked--only "sometimes," for there are so -many beautiful good women. - -But the children loved _La Pelée_; she was beautiful, and she took her -bath so gently, away amongst the clouds and mist of the morning. - - * * * * * - -As I look again in the unchanging photograph at the dark mountains and -the tiny white city, cuddled down by the sea, with its quaint -lighthouse and its old church, there rises a strange mist over my soul, -and a blur comes into my eyes, and I feel myself pressing the cold bit -of cardboard against my lips as I would the face of a beloved. - -[Illustration: RUE VICTOR HUGO BEFORE THE ERUPTION - -St. Pierre, Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -It comes to me that once again there has gone from my life for eternity -that which can never return; just as the whole bright world can be -changed into darkness by the passing out of a soul we love; and we know -that, however much we long for its return, it can never come back; that -from that hour we tread the way alone. The silent spirit takes up the -light, falters a moment at the door, turning, smiles sweetly upon us, -and is gone, and we are left in a dark room. Oh! the love that we -mortals lavish in this world of ours! - -There was about Martinique a sweetness, a translucent loveliness, an -unforgettableness which crept into the innermost fibre of my being. It -even seemed to creep into my blood and pulsate through my body with -every beat of my heart. - -I listen now to the memories of my soul, and hear again the sweet, soft -voices of the creole girls and the quick, noiseless tread of the -carriers of water, fruits, and cacao coming down from Morne Rouge, -coming from the tender shadows which droop caressingly about the feet of -slumbering _Pelée_. And I can hear the cool trickle of the water from -the half-hidden fountain in a cranny of the wall; and I hear the rush of -the stream down from the mountainside, over stones as white as milk. And -sweet, shy flowers hang over high walls and nod to me; and from green -blinds in low, white mansions, I hear soft young voices, whispering and -laughing. A youth passes, as the blind opens, and he laughs and goes to -the other side of the street to beckon, and, oh! there it is again--the -old story. - -And I go on and on, and I come to the _Rivière Roxelane_ where the women -are spreading their clothes to dry on the great rocks, and the river -tumbles along, and twists in and out with gentle murmurs, and the women -are washing and laughing. - -[Illustration: RUE VICTOR HUGO AFTER THE ERUPTION - -St. Pierre, Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -And I go on to the palms, higher up, and some one brings me wild -strawberries from the cool mountains, and I sit down and pick them -from the basket and eat to my heart's delight; and I rest on the bridge, -so old, all covered with moss and flowers, and I look down into the -valley, where the city lies, and beyond where it dabbles its feet into -the blue sea. And the picture is framed in an oval of green, drooping -trees, and whispering vines, and deep-scented flowers. - - * * * * * - -It must have come--_the end_--just as the good priest was saying mass -down in the white church by the sea, and the creole girls had come from -the mountains with their sticks of palm--for salad--and had sold their -fruits in the market, and had gone with the fishermen to the good -priest; and the white church was crowded to the doors,--for the priest -was beloved, and the church had broad arms,--and the boys were chanting, -when--my God! where should the children escape? The fiery mountain back -of them and the deep sea before them and the air about them a sweeping -furnace! - -"Children! Children!" I seem to hear the clear, ringing voice of the -old priest. "I commit your souls to God. Amen, amen." - -The beautiful _Pelée_ burned out her wicked soul, the River Roxelane ran -dry, the dear, blue sky of morning was turned to hideous night, the -white city fell in blazing ruins, and now the everlasting hills lift -their scarred sides in grim desolation. - -THE END. - - - - -INDEX - - -Andes Mountains, The, 67, 84, 137. - -Aragua River, Venezuela, 145, 146. - -Bank, The, Caracas, 106-111. - -Blue Mountains, The, Jamaica, 197, 205. - -Bolivar, 95. - Statue of, 84, 87. - -Botanical Gardens, The, Martinique, 15, 20. - -Botanical Gardens, The, Port of Spain, 15-34. - Ceiba-Tree, The, 16. - Coffee-Tree, The, 24. - -Cabañas, Havana, 240. - -Caracas, Venezuela, 64, 68, 73, 77, 79-124, 130. - Bank, The, 106-111. - Cathedral, The, 84, 87, 96-97, 103, 113, 118-120, 130. - Gran Hotel de Caracas, The, 80. - Gran Hotel de Venezuela, The, 81-84, 96, 114. - Market, The, 103, 106. - Military Band, The, 97-99. - Municipal Palace, The, 94-96. - Plaza, The, 117, 118. - Society of Caracas, The 122-124. - Square of Bolivar, The, 84, 87. - -Caribbean Sea, The, 36, 151, 153, 159, 193. - -Castro, Cipriano, 88-89, 96, 101, 121, 138, 152, 179. - -Cathedral, The, Caracas, 84, 87, 96-97, 103, 113, 118-120, 130. - -Ceiba-Tree, The, 16. - -Cervera, Admiral, 180-182. - -Cienfuegos, Cuba, 239. - -Coffee-Tree, The, 24. - -Curaçao, Island of, 139, 154, 156, 159, 176-179. _See also Willemstad._ - -El Caney, Cuba, 239. - -Gran Hotel de Caracas, The, Caracas, 80. - -Gran Hotel de Venezuela, The, Caracas, 81-84, 96, 114. - -Great Venezuelan Railway, The, 139-142. - -Gulf of Mexico, The, 239. - -Gulf of Paria, The, 11, 64. - -Havana, Cuba, 239. - Cabañas, 240. - Morro, The, 240. - -Jamaica, Island of, 197, 208, 211-212. - Blue Mountains, The, 197, 205. - Kingston, 198, 205, 218, 221, 224-236. - Mandeville, 201. - Natives, The, 227-228. - Rio Cobre, 205. - Spanish Town, 211-212. - -Kingston, Jamaica, 198, 205, 218, 221. - Parish Church, The, 224-236. - -La Brea, Trinidad, 35, 42-59. - -La Guayra, Venezuela, 64, 68, 69-72, 78, 101. - -Lake of Valencia, Venezuela, 125, 145-146. - -Mandeville, Jamaica, 201. - -Margarita, Island of, 64. - -Market, The, Caracas, 103-106. - -Martinique, Island of, 248-264. - Botanical Gardens, 15, 20. - Mount Pelée, 255, 256, 263-264. - Rivière Roxelane, 260, 264. - St. Pierre, 248, 252. - -Military Band, The, Caracas, 97-99. - -Morro, The, Havana, 240. - -Mount Pelée, Martinique, 255, 256, 263-264. - -Municipal Palace, The, Caracas, 94-96. - -Natives, The, of Curaçao, 160-163, 177-178; - of Jamaica, 227-228; - of Trinidad, 51, 56. - -Orinoco River, The, 11, 64. - -Parish Church, The, Kingston, 224-236. - -Plaza, The, Caracas, 117, 118. - -Port of Spain, Trinidad, 12. - Botanical Gardens, The, 15-34. - Queen's Park Hotel, The, 12-14. - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela, 78, 101, 125, 126, 129, 136, 151, 154, 156. - - -Queen's Park Hotel, Port of Spain, 12-14. - -Rio Cobre, Jamaica, 205. - -River Tuy, The, Venezuela, 144-145. - -Rivière Roxelane, The, Martinique, 260, 264. - -St. Pierre, Martinique, 248, 252. - -San Juan Hill, Cuba, 239. - -Santiago, Cuba, 239. - -Society of Caracas, The, 122-124. - -Southern Cross, The, 189-191, 193, 196. - -Spanish Town, Jamaica, 211-212. - -Square of Bolivar, The, Caracas, 84, 87. - -Trinidad, Island of, 11, 16, 29. - Natives, The, 51, 56. - -Valencia, Venezuela, 101, 125, 126, 136, 146. - -Willemstad, Curaçao, 154, 160-184, 187. - -Yucatan Channel, The, 239. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2, by -Ida May Hill Starr - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES, V. 2/2 *** - -***** This file should be named 43771-8.txt or 43771-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/7/7/43771/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/43771-8.zip b/43771-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e569975..0000000 --- a/43771-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/43771-h.zip b/43771-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 41bd45f..0000000 --- a/43771-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/43771.txt b/43771.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 32ebecf..0000000 --- a/43771.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4437 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2, by Ida May Hill Starr - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2 - Sketches of a Cruise to the West Indies and the Spanish Main - -Author: Ida May Hill Starr - -Release Date: September 20, 2013 [EBook #43771] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES, V. 2/2 *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES - - VOLUME II. - - Travel Lovers' Library - - [Illustration] - - _Each in two volumes profusely illustrated_ - - Florence - By GRANT ALLEN - - Romance and Teutonic Switzerland - By W. D. MCCRACKAN - - Old World Memories - By EDWARD LOWE TEMPLE - - Paris - By GRANT ALLEN - - Feudal and Modern Japan - By ARTHUR MAY KNAPP - - The Unchanging East - By ROBERT BARR - - Venice - By GRANT ALLEN - - Gardens of the Caribbees - By IDA M. H. STARR - - Belgium: Its Cities - By GRANT ALLEN - -[Illustration] - - L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY - Publishers - 200 Summer Street, Boston, Mass. - -[Illustration: FROM OUR BALCONY - -CARACAS, VENEZUELA.] - - - - - GARDENS OF - THE CARIBBEES - - Sketches of a Cruise to the West - Indies and the Spanish Main - - By - Ida M. H. Starr - - IN TWO VOLUMES - VOL. II. - _ILLUSTRATED_ - - [Illustration: colophon] - - Boston - L. C. Page & Company - _MDCCCCIV_ - - _Copyright, 1903_ - By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY - (INCORPORATED) - - _All rights reserved_ - - Published July, 1903 - - Colonial Press - Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. - Boston, Mass., U.S.A. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - I. ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. "IERE" 11 - - II. ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. LA BREA 35 - - III. THE SPANISH MAIN 64 - - IV. IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS 101 - - V. IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS TO PUERTO CABELLO 125 - - VI. CURACAO. CITY OF WILLEMSTAD 153 - - VII. THE SOUTHERN CROSS 189 - -VIII. KINGSTON, JAMAICA 198 - - IX. "CUANDO SALIDE LA HABANA" 239 - - X. A MEMORY OF MARTINIQUE 247 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - -VOLUME II. - PAGE - -FROM OUR BALCONY, CARACAS, VENEZUELA _Frontispiece_ - -THE BARRACKS, THROUGH LIVE-OAKS AND MAHOGANY-TREES, TRINIDAD 17 - -GOVERNOR'S PALACE AND PUBLIC GARDENS, PORT OF SPAIN, TRINIDAD 21 - -ON THE WAY TO THE SAVANNAH, PORT OF SPAIN, TRINIDAD 31 - -THE BEACH OF LA BREA, TRINIDAD 39 - -ASPHALT FOR NORTHERN PAVEMENTS, PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 47 - -LOADING CARS, PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 53 - -A NATIVE WASHERWOMAN ON THE PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 57 - -WHERE THE MOUNTAINS MEET THE SEA, LA GUAYRA, VENEZUELA 65 - -CARACAS AND THE MOUNTAINS, VENEZUELA 75 - -EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 85 - -AN INTERIOR COURT, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 91 - -CATHEDRAL AND PLAZA, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 111 - -A HOUSE BESIDE THE SEA, PUERTO CABELLO, VENEZUELA 127 - -A SOUTH AMERICAN STREET, PUERTO CABELLO, VENEZUELA 149 - -ACROSS STE. ANNE BAY, HARBOUR OF WILLEMSTAD, CURACAO 157 - -SOME OF OUR FRIENDS AT WILLEMSTAD.--WHERE THE BASKET-WOMEN WAITED, -WILLEMSTAD, CURACAO 161 - -THE LANDING, WILLEMSTAD, CURACAO 165 - -A Jolly Dutch Port, Willemstad, Curacao 173 - -A SNUG HARBOUR, WILLEMSTAD, CURACAO 185 - -KINGSTON, JAMAICA, FROM THE BAY 199 - -RIO COBRE, NEAR SPANISH TOWN, JAMAICA 203 - -A NATIVE HUT, JAMAICA 209 - -THE BOG WALK ROAD, NEAR SPANISH TOWN, JAMAICA 213 - -WHERE WE LANDED, KINGSTON, JAMAICA 223 - -EL MORRO, ENTRANCE TO HARBOUR, SANTIAGO DE CUBA 229 - -THE PLAZA, CIENFUEGOS, CUBA 233 - -THE GRAVE OF CERVERA'S FLEET, WEST OF SANTIAGO DE CUBA 237 - -THE WRECK OF THE MAINE, HAVANA HARBOUR, CUBA 241 - -CABANAS, LA PUNTA, AND HARBOUR ENTRANCE, HAVANA, CUBA 245 - -ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELEE BEFORE THE ERUPTION, MARTINIQUE 249 - -ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELEE AFTER THE ERUPTION, MARTINIQUE 253 - -RUE VICTOR HUGO BEFORE THE ERUPTION, ST. PIERRE, MARTINIQUE 257 - -RUE VICTOR HUGO AFTER THE ERUPTION, ST. 267 - - - - -Gardens of the Caribbees - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -ISLAND OF TRINIDAD, "IERE" - - -I. - -Had we known just a little more about Trinidad, it would have made a -great difference in that luncheon, but it all came out wrong because -some of us didn't know. Too late to influence us in the least, we read -in the _Daily Gleaner_, of Jamaica, that the beef sold in Trinidad is -exported alive from Venezuela. To be sure, we were aware that Venezuela -occupies a large part of the northern coast of South America, and were -conscious that Trinidad lies enclosed in a great bay of that coast, -called the Gulf of Paria, off the delta of the Orinoco River; also, in a -hazy way, we knew that the Spanish Main is a name applied somewhat -vaguely to that same South American coast--a relic of the days of -pirates, buccaneers, and freebooting English admirals; but we no more -expected to be served a roast of beef from the Spanish Main than a dish -of Boston baked beans from our castles in Spain. The two dimly -intangible names had ever borne a close comradeship in our minds, a -poetic association affiliated them in closest bonds. The same sun kissed -into rose tints the turrets of our castles in Spain and the lofty -summits of the Spanish Main. The same romance lifted them both away from -reality into that land just bordering upon the Islands of the Blest, and -much as we longed to materialise our dreams, and make the Spanish Main a -usable fact, when the opportunity came for us to do so, it slipped away -from us before we were conscious of its existence. - -Unaware that the illuminated postal-card _menu_ on the table at the -Queen's Park Hotel, Port of Spain, could in any sense lift the veil from -our enchantments, we read the following bill of fare: - - Mayonnaise of Fish, with Lettuce - Oysters _en Poulet_ - Scrambled Eggs with Asparagus Tips - Irish Stew - Haricot of Oxtail - Brain Fritters - Curry of Veal _a l'Indien_ - Boiled Turkey and Rice - Ham and Spinach - Fried Sausages and Potatoes - Salad - Assorted Cold Meats - String Beans Rice Mashed Potatoes - Macaroni _au Gratin_ - Chocolate Ice-cream Cakes - Cheese - -Eight of us sat down at a table on the veranda, white-walled, -white-ceilinged, and white pillared. A white-gravelled walk led out into -the white sun, through a stiff, boxed-in, English garden, stuffed with -plants in green tubs, and redeemed only by those natural things that -will grow and be beautiful in spite of all conventions. Thirsting for -cool ices and delectable fruits, looking wistfully for our vanishing -fancies of West Indian ambrosia, we turn in a listless, disappointed way -to that bill of fare, where ham and spinach and Irish stew and fried -sausages send our hopes a-scampering off like a lot of frightened -children. - -What man in his sane mind would order an haricot of ox-tail in the -tropics, when he needs but lift his hand for the food of Paradise; what -man, with any sense of the fitness of things, would eat curried veal, -when, for the asking, he might sup a libation fit for the gods? Alas! -The asking never brought it, and we--that is, one, at least--settled -down to scrambled eggs, and felt and looked unutterable scorn upon the -one next at table who began at mayonnaise of fish, and took every course -to cheese. Ah! friends, this was a case where the one who didn't know -fared ill. She lost her first opportunity of paying her respects to the -Spanish Main. - -Hungry and disillusioned, the one and the only thing to do is to forget -those steaming sausages and the Irish stew as quickly as possible. We -shall not stay here a moment longer. Hotels are makeshifts at the best. -Let us leave these unromantic, unscrupulous venders of ham and spinach! - -There, over yonder on the other side of the savannah, there is a -delicious retreat where we can make good our escape. - - -II. - -We shall never again see anything which can compare in beauty, of its -kind, with the _Jardin des Plantes_ of Martinique. No, we never -shall--still, we must be just to all. Trinidad's Botanical Garden is -beautiful in its own way, and we were impressed with the idea that it -possessed some features which that of Martinique lacked. However, that -might have been owing to the fact that we did not view the Martinique -Garden in its entirety. Had we done so, we might have found the same -species in both places. - -From casual observation there seemed to me to be one distinctive -characteristic of tropical vegetation; the trees did not appear to grow -so much in great social orders as do those of temperate zones. In the -North, vast families of the same species of trees gather together and -keep together with as rigid a pertinacity as any Scotch clan; the beech, -birch, oak, maple, pine, hemlock, walnut, hickory, all have their pet -homes and their own relations, and no amount of coddling or persuasion -will ever induce them to a wide change of _habitat_; but in the far -South, the tropical trees seem willing to settle anywhere in this land -of endless summer. Of course, one finds that certain trees love the -swamps, and others prefer the high lands; and some will grow in greater -magnificence in some places where the conditions are absolutely -congenial, than in other places where they are not so. There is the -mangrove; it loves the wet and the mire--the mosquito-ridden, miasmatic -river borders--and wherever, on these coasts, you find a swamp, whether -in the very hottest spots, or in others only moderately so, there you'll -find the mangrove sending out aerial roots, reaching down into the muck -for new strength, forming--banyan-like--a family of new trunks, all -under one leafy canopy, quite content if only it has the water about its -roots and a certain degree of heat. - -Away up there in Haiti, we find the ceiba, and down here in Trinidad it -is equally at home. These conditions make the formation of a botanical -garden, representing the world-growth of sunlit vegetation, peculiarly -favourable. Trinidad is said to possess the most superb collection of -tropical plants in existence; and though gathered from all lands, -growing not as strangers or even stepchildren, but as rightful heirs to -the immeasurable vital force which pours forth from a rich soil warmed -by a blazing sun the year around. - -[Illustration: THE BARRACKS, THROUGH LIVE-OAKS AND MAHOGANY-TREES - -Trinidad] - -The garden once entered, we pass a great, squarely built mansion, the -governor's residence, and are in the midst of a wonderful vegetation -from the first step. At the very entrance, we are greeted with, perhaps, -the most unique tree in these latitudes. - -After all, there is something stupefying in the effort to describe -tropical wonders. When they are passing before one's eyes, each has a -feature distinct to itself, which, in a way, is its own manner of -description. Each has its peculiar wonder, its own glory,--no two -alike--and yet, when one sits down to think it over, there is the same -old alphabet from which to draw new pictures, new miracles; and how to -make each different with the same letters is a question indeed. - -If I could only tell you the name of this particular tree which stands -at the entrance to the garden, you might some day hunt it up yourself, -but as I know neither its family nor home, we will let that all go, and -just tell you how it is dressed. - -It is a heavily, glossily leafed, symmetrical, low tree, just about the -size of those dear old cherry-trees we used to climb, oh, so long,--so -long ago! From the tip of every branch there drops a cord-like fibre -about a foot and a half long, and at the end of this little brown string -there hangs a cluster of delicate pink flowers. These are suspended in -almost exact length in rows from the lowest to the highest branch, and -it really seems as if Nature were experimenting to see what wonderful -living garlands she could create for a canopy above our heads. - - -III. - -The character of the garden is defined at once upon entrance. It is a -botanical garden, pure and simple, a place for strange plants from far -away, a sort of orphan asylum for everybody's vegetable baby. It is not, -like Martinique, an enchanted forest with cascades and glens fit for -nymphs and dryads; it is matter-of-fact, orderly, prim, and -businesslike. Aside from its unique trees, there is little to attract -one, so we decide for once it would be wise to engage a guide who can -tell us something about the inhabitants of the place, which otherwise -promises to be rather dull. - -[Illustration: GOVERNOR'S PALACE AND PUBLIC GARDENS - -Port of Spain, Trinidad] - -So we hunt up a crooked, stump-legged Portuguese gardener, by name -Manuel, who takes our heavy baskets, we following down a little glen -which grows at once quite dark and sweet and silent. - -Through long, freshly cut bamboo poles, streams of water are being -carried hither and thither to special spots in the garden, and we stop -to watch the trickling, and dip our hands down into its pleasant -coolness. Away up through the dark leafage, a mighty royal palm with -stern aristocratic grace swings and rattles its great, dead, brown -arms--the skeleton of its last year's growth--beneath the luxuriant -crown of this year's green plumes. - -In the thicket, we find the nutmegs, hiding among the delicate foliage -of a low-branching tree. Sister reaches among the leaves and pulls off -some of the fragrant fruit, and gathers many from the ground. A sense of -rare luxuriance comes over us. This gathering of the spices of life from -the very ground upon which we tread is intoxicating, and we just begin -to understand the causes back of those dark pages of West Indian -history, when man first partook of this delirium. - -These large-leafed, upright little trees are the Madagascar coffee, and -the smaller and more graceful ones, the Java coffee--how they take us -back to those happy days and months among the coffee plantations, long -ago!--and near by is the friendly banana, so common an object that we -pass its torn, drooping leaves with scarcely a thought, but it is worth -more than a passing glance, for there is no plant in all the tropics -more useful than the banana. It has not only delicious fruit of many -sizes and varieties, but it is also cooked as a vegetable, and forms one -of the chief sources of the native diet. It is planted, on account of -its heavy shade and quick growth, to shade the coffee, while trees of -slower growth and more permanent shade are maturing, thus forming a -necessary and temporary protection; it is also used for the same purpose -among the cacao trees. It is a sort of foster-mother to the cacao, to -care for the tender shrub until its real mother, "_La Madre del Cacao_," -can assume permanent care of its charge. The banana takes so little -vitality from the ground that, as protection to the coffee and cacao, it -is indispensable. We had some very delicious, green-skinned bananas at -several places, and found the small apple banana everywhere. - -Manuel leads us on, and stops under a spindling, tall tree, flowering -with dainty, pink buds of a delicious odour, and there's one branch just -low enough for Little Blue Ribbons to reach on tiptoe. Does it seem -possible that the little brown cloves, rattling in my spice-box at home, -could ever have been so fresh and soft and pink? Poor little mummies! - -And just see what we are coming to! Did you ever imagine there could be -such shade? It's a tree from the Philippines. We stoop to get under the -black leaves, and there the shade is absolutely impenetrable. What an -adjustment of things there is in this grand old earth of ours! - -My thoughts fly back to our Northern woods. I see the sinuously graceful -elms, with the sunlight streaming through their wide open branches upon -an earth longing for warmth; and long shafts of white noonday shooting -through the interstices of basswood, maple, and ash; the woods are not -black and sunless; they are translucently green, quivering with light -and needed warmth. But here, where the sun is a ball of redundant flame -the year around, Nature bequeaths to her children a shaded forest, -rigidly trunked, stolidly formed, thick-leafed, which no blazing sun can -penetrate or sweeping hurricane desolate. - - -IV. - -Quite as one strokes the head of a favourite animal, Manuel leads us to -an insignificant-looking tree, takes a branch caressingly in his hand, -brings out his clumsy knife, selects just the right spot, cuts off a -bit, and hands us a piece of camphor wood. - -Into the dear St. Thomas basket it goes, with the leaves of coffee, the -pink and white clove blossoms, and a long spray of _araucaria_ from the -Norfolk Islands,--a strange company, indeed! - -Yonder long yellow avenues are cinnamon and spice groves with -reddish-yellow bark, smooth as wax, casting slender shadows in the -golden light. Here is the shaddock, entirely weaned from its Malayan -home, and farther on a clump of low bushes, in among the nutmeg trees -and coffee, with small satin-like leaf, brings us to the herb that -"cheers but does not inebriate,"--the tea. - -Just see those glorious great lemons, glowing in the ever-splendid -sunlight, which transmits to every living object a radiance, a dazzling -brilliancy, in which life progresses and finally dissolves out of sheer -exhaustion from the exuberance of vitality. - -Oh, to our starved eyes of the North; to our senses benumbed by dreary -days of darkened sky, hearts chilled by bitterness of wind and gray, -unyielding frost, this never-ending, unspeakable sunlight, filtering -through the yellow vistas of clove and cinnamon, comes like the actual -presence of Apollo, the Shining One! We may, in unguarded moments, in -ungrateful moments, maybe, consider his embrace too positive, and we may -raise the white umbrella, but we never quite lose our rejuvenated love -for his golden glory. - -Manuel, but half-clad, looks as if he would dismember at any moment. His -trousers are hitched by a couple of old leathers, and his shirt looks -as if it wished it "didn't have to," and his old hat is only there on -sufferance, and his shoes--old flippety-flops--have dragged their -ill-shaped existence through many a weary mile. But Manuel doesn't care; -he loves his garden, and the sunshine and the luscious fruit, all his -children so well behaved and so obedient to his voice. He takes a bamboo -pole and gives one of the big, juicy lemons a rap, and down it falls on -Wee One's head with such a thump! Then Manuel is very sorry, and he -apologises for his child's misdemeanour in his funny, mixed-up -Portuguese-English-Spanish and the rest, and we understand and don't -mind a bit; in fact, we wouldn't care if more would fall in the same -way. - -Once upon a time, in the far-off golden days, when the Divine in -Creation had not been quite forgot, there came to this shore a band of -men,--not faultless, no, not faultless--but great men "for a' that," -who, with glittering cross aloft, christened this fair land after the -blessed Trinity. But this was not her first sacrament. Deep in the -eternal silence of the forest, the dweller in the High Wood had sought -expression of the divine through beauty, and chose a name from out the -radiant wilderness which would tell for ever of its wonderment: "Iere," -the land of the humming-bird, they called her--those dusky children of -the High Wood--and to this day she clings lovingly to her maiden name. - -We look about us. Where are the birds once peopling these forests, like -myriads of rainbows? Oh, sisters! members of Humane Societies! Hunt up -your old bonnets and see the poor little stuffed carcasses ornamenting -your cast-off finery! So Trinidad has been bereft of her wonderful -birds, and now there is but a name, a sad-sounding, meaningless -name--Iere--to tell of days which knew not the pride and cruelty of -women. - -Think of it!--at one time, there averaged twenty thousand humming-birds -a year exported from Trinidad to England alone! - -And now, well--there are none left to export. We must find new islands -to denude, to ravage, to desolate, for our adornment. But it's too -unpleasant,--this seeing things as they are; we'll hide the poor little -innocent card which the black woman gave us at the hotel; we'll cover up -the word "Iere" with these coffee leaves. There, now the spray of -_araucaria_, now the stick of camphor, and I think the lemon will fit -right in among the nutmegs. - -Come along, Manuel, we are ready; and we follow through the birdless -paths, down where the _Nux Vomica_ grows, and the pepper, and the lime -and the calabash, and the orange and breadfruit, and tamarind, and -pineapple; and we go on and wake up the comical lizards who scurry away -like brown flashes of whip-cord. What ridiculous creatures they are, and -how desperately frightened! Why, surely they must be fifteen inches -long, and fully four inches high, and what funny, nimble legs! They -start off in the same spasm-like way as do the toy lizards we buy for -the youngsters. - -Manuel brings us to the plant house where the great forest wonders of -the Far East are babied and loved into strength, and I could not but -think of Daudet's dear old _Tartarin of Tarascon_, dreaming by the -homesick little baobab-tree, which grew in his window-garden; and of the -long nights under the mellow moon of sunny France; and how he fought -great beasts and achieved great fame in the land of sweet illusion. - -[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO THE SAVANNAH - -Port of Spain, Trinidad - -Copyright. 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Dream on, Tartarin, wherever you may be! The time will come when it will -all be true, and you, too, will rest under the yellow splendour of the -golden trees; and the earth, the great Mother Earth, will open her heart -to you and breathe upon you the spirit of limitless possibilities! - -Good-bye, Manuel! The basket is heavy to carry with its spoils of fruit -and flowers; and we take "turn about" across the savannah. - -The races are on, and horses are dashing around the grassy turf, and the -Trinidadians are yelling, the cricket games are going, and the picnic -parties are gathering up their baskets for home; and the Hindoo girls -clamour to carry our basket, and we gladly give over the load to a tough -little head; and the merry-go-round wheezes out its squeaking tunes, and -we pass through the black crowd, and narrowly escape taking a cab, for -the way to the quay looks long, and we waver and weaken, and are just -about to give in, when up comes a tinkling tram, and we jump in, with a -penny to the Hindoo girl, and rumble away. - -The man with the two monkeys, and the man with the green and blue -parrot, and the boy with the shells, are still waiting. - -Alackaday! Where is the woman with the baskets? - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. LA BREA - - -I. - -We were led to believe, through various accounts from former travellers, -that the excursion to the Pitch Lake would be attended with considerable -discomfort and some hardships. - -After a run of about four hours from Port of Spain, Trinidad, we made La -Brea at two o'clock in the afternoon of a blistering hot day. Fully -one-third of the ship's company were frightened off, while the rest of -us made ready for the much-anticipated expedition. - -It was a funny-looking company that stood at the gangway, waiting for -the first boat ashore. - -Handkerchiefs took the place of collars and ties; coats and vests were, -for the most part, discarded, and all endeavoured to make themselves as -light in wearing apparel as possible. - -The Caribbean Sea, which had, until now, been ruffled only by the -regular sweep of the "trades," was badly tossed by a strong wind, so -that the embarkation in the ship's boat was to me unpleasantly exciting. -The sea was running so high that, in order to reach the boat without -being wet through, we had to gauge our time well and take the jump just -as the boat was lifted to the top of the wave. As we started down the -ship's ladder, with Little Blue Ribbons tightly holding Daddy's hand, -Sister having gone before in the whale-boat with friends, the ship's -mate begged us to leave the Wee One with him. He said the sea was too -rough and the landing too difficult; and besides he would take such good -care of her, and she should have ice cream, and be a little queen all -day,--if she would only stay. So, with some tears, and disdain for -ice-cream, Little Blue Ribbons remained on board; the only time in the -journey thus far when she was not one of the party. - -Had it not been for the confident man, who likes the water, and the -absurdity of the thing, I should have begged to be taken back to the -ship. - -We were in the second boat. The captain had arranged to have the launch -tow us ashore, but the launch--true to the traditions of "oil -engines"--had no intention of towing us ashore; it puffed and popped and -made a great fuss, but would not move an inch. The engineer lost his -steerageway, and it seemed every moment as if the great, clumsy thing -would crash into us; and there we lay, going up and down the side of the -ship, rolling from side to side, and bobbing from bow to stern, in a -very disagreeable situation for those who don't like that sort of thing. - -I know quite well that I was not the only one who would gladly have felt -himself safe on the solid decks of our ship. For once, the incessant -talking had ceased, and our boat-load of people sat there absolutely -quiet, thinking very hard. - -After numerous unsuccessful attempts to make the launch behave, they -gave up the attempt, manned our life-boat with six round-faced, -lubberly, German "jackies," each with a big oar, and went off -independently. - -I was heartily thankful not to have been assigned to the launch, for it -could not compare in sea-going qualities with the boat in which we were -placed. - -As I said, it was a long row to the landing, but we finally reached -smooth water, and disembarked at the end of a long bridge-like pier; -not, however, without some difficulty. - -We were still some distance from shore, which was reached by means of a -narrow board walk, carried along one side of the pier, and bridging over -the shoal water. - -At the quay, a big "down-east" schooner (thank Heaven, there are a few -American merchant vessels left!), two barks, and one full-rigged ship, -were being loaded with pitch, by means of great steel buckets, -travelling on an endless wire cable, which went from the end of the -pier, up an incline, to the works on the hill, near to the great deposit -of pitch beyond. - -[Illustration: THE BEACH OF LA BREA - -Trinidad] - -This ship at the pier was the first full-rigged merchant ship we had -seen during the cruise--most merchantmen seeming now to be rigged as -barks or barkentines--and was, even in spite of its black cargo, a -beautiful sight. There is something in the look of a ship--its mass -of rigging, its straight yard-arms, well set up, its black, drooping -sails, half-furled, its inexplicable riddle of shrouds and stays and -braces and halliards and sheets--that always stirs my soul mysteriously. -Black as this vessel was, prosaic as was her cargo, unsightly the hands -that loaded her, she was a picture. By right, she should have carried -teas, and spices, and silks, and jewels; but she was worthy of -admiration despite her humble calling. - -Once on land, we realised, looking up the long, black hill ahead of us, -and feeling the heat from a blazing sun directly overhead, that the walk -would be a hard one, and that we must go slowly, in order to make it -with any degree of comfort; but walk we must, or stay on the beach. - -The pitch was in evidence immediately. Reefs of hard asphalt ran through -the sandy beach into the sea. The hill was covered with asphalt, and -down near the shore it lay in great wrinkles, where, when the road was -being made, it had overflowed and taken to the hedgeway. It was apparent -under the grass and weeds, around the roots of trees, and in the banana -groves; in fact, there was pitch everywhere, black, oozing, and dull. - - -II. - -Up the hill laboured the little procession of red-faced adventurers, in -all conditions of negligee. The large lady from Kansas puffed and -sweated and mopped her face; the doctor vowed we would die of sunstroke; -the mother and her daughter, from Boston, made the ascent as their -ancestors had stormed Bunker Hill, with features rigid and teeth set; -our neighbour at table, who had been thrice around the world, wondered -what on earth we would think of Manila in the summer-time if we called -this hot; our jolly, delightful friend from New Haven laughed us all the -way up the hill, and said he was suffering with the cold; the German -baron, under his green umbrella, passed us with the superb stride -acquired from his sturdy ancestors and his military training; down the -hill back of us straggled on the rest of the company: the little women, -the tall women, the lean ones, the fat ones, urged and supported by -long-suffering husbands and brothers and friends who mopped and fanned -furiously. - -There were hats of all descriptions: white East Indian helmets built of -pith and lined with green, deliciously light, cool things; and all -conceivable shapes of Puerto Rican hats, of a pretty, fine white palm -"straw," very much like the Panama; and hats from Haiti; and French hats -from Martinique; and then there were Puerto Rican sailor hats, one of -which I wore with great pride. Our shoes were the heaviest we had, and -our clothing the oldest and lightest available. - -Thus all marched on in broken file, with very hot faces, and shaded by -all manner of outlandish umbrellas, over the hot asphalt to the Pitch -Lake. - -As our little party plodded along, going so slowly it hardly seemed as -if we were making any progress at all, my courage began to wane -somewhat, for I remembered most vividly a similar day on the island of -Capri, when I had been overcome by the sun, and in consequence of which -had suffered many months after. With this in my mind, we stopped at a -shanty half-way up the hill, where we saw some bananas growing, tore -off part of a leaf, and asked for some water of a negress, who was one -of many watching the procession with great amusement. In fairly good -English she told me not to wet the head; in fact, by her vociferous -rejection of our plan, we were led to believe that it would be dangerous -to carry it out at all, so we threw away the leaf, and worked on up the -blistering highway to the top of the hill. - -There was not a bit of shade in sight. To right and left, rank weeds and -cacti grew in wild confusion, and with the exception of a few banana -groves, and the huts of negro labourers farther down, there was nothing -of a shade-producing nature along the road. The asphalt was so hot to -the feet that we broke company, and took to single file in among the -weeds on the edge of the road. - -As we approached the summit of the hill, a fine breeze gave us new -courage, and the sight of the Pitch Works, not far distant, dissolved -our fears of the heat into most absorbing interest of the great -phenomenon coming into view. An endless train of buckets, which led the -way up the long ascent, on a wire rope supported at short intervals by -large sheaves on iron pillars, went squeaking along, one row down to the -dock, full of great chunks of pitch, and the other back, empty, to be -filled and started on its round again. - - -III. - -I looked ahead as far as I could, and located our fellow voyagers, now -here, now there,--white dots on the strangest landscape I had ever seen. -I sat down on a barrel of pitch under the welcome shade of a rough shed -in the power-house, and had my first glimpse of the great lake. - -Why it has been called a "lake," I fail to discover; it was probably -named thus by the English. In that case, the matter is explained; it is -called a lake because it is not a lake at all. The Englishman never -seems to understand that the object to be named ought to bear some -slight relation to its appellative. He decides upon a name, and the -unfortunate victim has to fit himself, herself, itself, into its new -form as best he can. If this curious deposit had been called the "Pitch -Bed," there might have been some reason in the naming; some, possibly -not all, but some of the existing physical conditions would have been -suggested to the mind, and the traveller might thus have been able to -form an approximate idea of the phenomenon before seeing it. - -Instead of a lake, you see a vast, flat, fairly smooth, black surface of -pitch, with only here and there small pools of water,--in places, -yellowish; in places, clear,--intersecting the black surface in all -directions. Sometimes they enlarge, and, uniting, cover the surface -quite a distance, and in the centre several feet deep; and again the -intersecting, stream-like pools shrink to mere threads, but, as I said, -the general aspect of the Pitch Lake is a flat, solid, black surface, -covered occasionally with water, the water being only in the crevices -between great masses of pitch that have pushed up from beneath. - -[Illustration: ASPHALT FOR NORTHERN PAVEMENTS - -Pitch Lake, Trinidad] - -We were as yet unconvinced of its carrying qualities, and, not wishing -to run the risk of getting stuck in the pitch, we waited the approach of -one of the trains of little cable-cars, running from the works out on to -the lake, which we could see coming toward us. The brakeman is good -enough to stop, and we pile into the ridiculous little steel cars and -hang on as best we can, while we are sent flying down over a -narrow-gauge track, laid on top of the pitch, to the place where most of -the digging is going on. - -Here a great crew of black men--black as the pitch in which they -stand--with bare feet, all with picks, dig out the wonderful formation, -which breaks off in great brittle pieces. Seeing these men so fearlessly -defying the forces of nature, we gained confidence, and stepped out of -the buckets on to the surface of the so-called "lake;" and although our -feet would sink in a half-inch or so when we stood still, we found that -we could walk everywhere with perfect safety, with the exception of a -few places where the surface seemed to be in big bubbles and disposed to -crack and break away under us. - -It was remarkable to me that the pitch is both viscous and brittle at -the same time. When standing still, the water--thick and yellow, with a -sulphurous odour--would ooze up about the feet and form new rivulets, -which, uniting, would trickle into some near-by pool. There were -innumerable small, crater-like openings, some like air-bubbles in the -sea beach, others, deep, black holes, two and three feet in diameter, -but no appearance of heat or fire. All over the lake, small springs of -yellowish fluid were constantly bubbling up into the pools. The supply -of pitch is apparently inexhaustible, for, after a great trench has been -dug out along these temporary tracks, some four feet deep, and many rods -wide, by the next day the hole will again be so far filled that the -mining goes on as before. - -The manager told us that it had not been found necessary to change the -tram tracks for two years, that the level of the pitch fell only seven -inches last year, after immense amounts had been removed for shipment. - -The depth of this deposit is not known. It has been sounded a number of -times, but it seems to be impossible to find the bottom. I do not know -the exact dimensions of the lake, but, making a rough estimate, should -say that it is half a mile wide, and about a mile long; its extent is -said to be about one hundred and ten acres. The great asphalt deposit in -Venezuela, which has been the cause of so much recent trouble,--through, -I am sorry to say, the quarrels of two American companies,--is thought -by some to be shallower than the one of La Brea, although it is -apparently much larger, being in the neighbourhood of ten miles in -circumference. This Trinidad pitch is also worked by an American -company, under concession from the British Colonial Government. - - -IV. - -It seemed to me that I had never before seen such black pitch or blacker -"niggers." They were a good-humoured lot of men, making no complaint of -the heat, although they worked untiringly, bare-footed, in the hot, -oozing pitch. - -We stopped one fellow, about as black and tattered a figurehead as we -could find, and told him we wanted his picture. He was perfectly -delighted, and struck a very fetching attitude. After the button had -been pressed, we gave him a bit of silver, and then came a howl from a -dozen others for a similar opportunity, all posing for us as fancy -struck them. Seeing that we were obdurate, the fortunate holder of the -silver doubled up with a tremendous laugh, and I can yet see before me -his two rows of glistening white teeth and his wreck of a hat and his -rag of a shirt, and his bepatched breeches. His laugh so exasperated the -others, that one, an elderly gentleman who wore grand side whiskers, -shouted out in tones of deepest sarcasm: "Guess I'd git my picture took, -too, Sam, if I was such a orangoutang as you is!" It seemed as though -they would come to blows, but, had I known the good-humoured blacks -better, I should have had no fear, for their battles, fierce as they -seem, are only words, and usually end in a laugh. - -There are two kinds of pitch: one, pure pitch, dead black, was loaded in -the small cars, and the other, of a light brown colour, was carried off -in dump-carts, drawn by mules. This black pitch forms the basis of all -our asphalt pavements, and such a deposit must be worth millions to the -_concessionaires_. - -Now, when did this mighty process begin, and what internal force is at -work producing this continual outpouring upon the earth's surface? - -[Illustration: LOADING CARS - -Pitch Lake, Trinidad] - -At the farther end of the lake, women and young girls were busy -gathering pieces of wood which were thrown up out of the pitch. I do -not claim to understand this marvellous phenomenon. I would rather put -the question to those of you who have access to the wisdom of libraries, -and give you the privilege of bringing some light upon these strange -manifestations of God's unknowable. As I understand it, pitch is -obtained from tar, boiled down, and tar is a black, viscous liquid -obtained by the distillation of wood and coal, so this residuum which we -see is the third step in one of Nature's great caldrons; a process -millions of years in forming, a process still in operation. - -Is this wood which is continually coming to the surface of the lake an -unused part of that vast primeval forest which was when time did not -exist; when chaos was revolving into form? How long has it been -wandering, and what force is it which sends it thus unharmed, save for -the loss of bark, out again into the light? - -Some very strange implements and tools, recognised as South American -workmanship of a remote day, have come to the surface of this lake, and -one theory for their appearance is, that they have been drawn under the -Gulf of Paria, and up through the lake of La Brea by some unseen, but -mighty power from the lake of pitch in Venezuela, of which this is -supposed by some to be the outlet. - -The wood, gathered by the women, is not petrified, but merely -impregnated with the pitch, and has all its original qualities as when -it first left the parent stem, with, however, the additional affinity -for fire which its pitchy bath would naturally give. - -We were much entertained by the women and children, who stood knee-deep -in the fresh pools at the further end of the lake, doing the washing. -The clothes were laid out on the pitch to dry, and the naked babies -rolled around on the black stuff quite as much at home as our babies are -on the clean nursery floor. The women had on but very little clothing, -or none,--and some of the girls and boys, fourteen and fifteen years of -age, were entirely nude. One young girl, as we approached, modestly hung -a little fluttering rag about her loins, and, thus clothed, was not -ashamed. - -[Illustration: A NATIVE WASHERWOMAN ON THE PITCH LAKE - -Trinidad] - -I have seen more immodesty on the floor of a modern ballroom than ever -from the bare bodies of these black women. But terrible as the -stories are which one hears of the immorality of the West Indies, I feel -that here the evil is less heinous in the coloured races on account of -the primitive nature and conditions of a half-savage people. -Unfortunately this great and degenerating danger to the white -inhabitants is ever present. The pitch lake foreshadows the terrible -conditions of the people in Trinidad and Jamaica; the continual welling -up of this black mass suggests the doom which awaits these beautiful -islands, unless a giant hand is put forth to save them. - -The difficulties of this excursion have been much exaggerated. To be -sure, we had a long walk, but we also had a good breeze most of the way, -and our fellow traveller who, in spite of all warnings, had worn his -immaculate white suit, came off without spot or blemish, notwithstanding -the old proverb about "keeping away from the pitch." - - -V. - -Hot and tired, I left the party, who wished to make the entire circuit, -and took my way over the yielding pitch, over the sulphurous yellow -puddles, until I finally came to the grateful shade of the power-house. -A rickety old carryall looked very inviting, and in no time I had -ensconced myself therein, and leaned back in full anticipatory enjoyment -of a restful quarter of an hour. - -As I sat there, looking out over the distant sea,--for I was on the brow -of a hill,--gradually the unsightly power-house, the pitch cars, the -little huts where bananas were sold, the native shanties, the long, -narrow bridge, even the rim of the canopy above my head, seemed to fade -away into nothing. The ships at anchor had slipped their cables and were -gone; the iron pier, with its busy life, had disappeared; all had -changed, vanished. It was silent, ghostly. - -Then, out of nothing, out of dimness, there came a moving, a forming, a -changing, and I became conscious that I was no longer alone, but that a -company, great and illustrious, was assembling by ship-loads upon the -beach of La Brea; and that, without word or confusion, five ancient, -lofty-sterned, lumbering craft, and a quaint little caravel, lay bow-on -to the strand, while one was already being careened on her side in the -shoal water of the beach by cumbersome tackle fast to her thick -mastheads. Their huge, clumsy hulks were gray with time; their gaping -seams told of hot, blistering suns, and upon their decks there lay an -array of guns and armament, crudely ancient and unwieldy. Silent men -were noiselessly moving about at the command of one most beautiful to -behold, in scarlet cloak, and silken hose and doublet of rare elegance, -with hat beplumed, and glittering sword, who walked amongst the company -as a king. - -To and from the ship there moved a ghostly procession of grimy sailors, -carrying pitch to the beach, where fires were burning, and the venerable -three-deckers were being daubed with the smoking fluid, and made ready -for the high seas. - -It was a merry company, in truth, of lords and gentlemen, and scholars, -too, who came upon my vision, and wonderingly my eyes followed the -gallant leader. It seemed to me that I could all but catch his words. He -spoke with a poet's grace, so full of charm and so deliberate, so -courtly was his address. His face once turned, I knew him to be -English. His fair skin was burned by deep-sea voyaging; his pointed -beard just touched the lace of a deep, white ruff, and over his shoulder -hung a plume, white and curling. In all my life, I had never seen so gay -a gentleman, and I could not get my fill of looking and of wondering. - -Could it be that this great company were the revivified followers of the -dauntless Sir Walter Raleigh, searching, centuries ago, for _El Dorado_? -And it came to me, in that curious mixing of past and present, of which -dreams are made, "Does Sir Walter, with all his wisdom, suspect that -here, where he pitches his ships, is to be the great gold mine--some -later man's _El Dorado_--while he eagerly sails away in futile quest of -golden sands that are always just beyond his reach?" - -I lifted myself to strain my farthest sight, when lo! all was gone; -galleons, gentlemen, scholars, sailors, even the little caravel--all! -The sun was beating down upon the black road, the air was blistering; -negroes were weighing the buckets of pitch, and the machinery clanked, -with deafening indifference, through the quivering air; and up from -behind a clump of bushes a red bow, atop of a well-known white hat, -chased away the phantoms of long ago. I took off my dark glasses, rubbed -my eyes, and, half-dazed, stepped from my enchanted carryall. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE SPANISH MAIN - - -I. - -Steaming out of the Gulf of Paria the day before, away from the muddy -water of the Orinoco, we had come again through the Dragon's Mouth, -close to that long, eastward-pointing finger of South America that forms -one side of this famous gateway, back into the welcome Caribbean Sea. -Thence through the night we skirted the South American coast, passing -the celebrated pearl-fishing island of Margarita--"The Pearl"--where it -was said that a German gunboat with covetous eye had these many months -been making careful surveys and taking elaborate soundings--so -forehanded, you know! And now we were at anchor in the roadstead of La -Guayra, the seaport of Caracas. - -[Illustration: WHERE THE MOUNTAINS MEET THE SEA - -La Guayra, Venezuela] - -Leaning over the rail of the white ship, early in the dawning of that -day, it came to me over and over again that we were at last in the -presence of the great West Indian Mother, and that her face was in truth -an exact realisation of our imaginings. - -A strong breeze blew the waves fast and loose, one upon another, to the -near-lying shore, where a white line of surf circled about a rounding -promontory, and lost itself on the other side of the cliff. Up and -beyond, rose the mountains, and some one said: "The Andes!" and we -looked again, and longer, and said to ourselves--"The Andes,--South -America, we are looking upon them with actual eyes!" - -Up, and still up, rose the mountains; great, tender lines of undulating -softness, all green and blue and gentle and grand, one sweep upon -another of matchless warm tints; one sweep upon another of voluptuous -curves in billowy green, and dropping in and about the contour of the -great continent's majestic form, far disappearing valleys swept into the -dimness of soft, shadowy depths. - -Like a great mother, asleep, spread with a coverlet of the changing -tints of malachite and beryl, South America lay before us. - -Clambering up her skirts were the little white roofs of La Guayra, spots -on her verdant garment,--irregular spots here, there, and everywhere; -now in patches, comfortably huddling together at her feet; now stray -offshoots away beyond. All very square and very Spanish were these -houses, very quaint to look upon; and if this is La Guayra, where is -Caracas? Must we, too, clamber and climb away into those mountain -heights, and, perchance, awaken the Great Mother, who sleeps so gently -under the drowsy lullings of the deep sea? - - -II. - -Things are moving on the shore, and in the distance dots like men and -women stir about the tiny houses, and a toy train toots, and toy engines -rattle, and toy cars seem filling with toy people; and we think it time -to go ashore and see if we can find a seat in one of those cars; so we -run up forward, where our impatient fellow voyagers have been hurrying -into the launch this long time. It has just puffed away, and we are -really glad. - -There is something very like the "stray sheep" in our make-up. It is -Americanism boiled down,--this love of going alone, and being -self-reliant. - -A beamy shore-boat is engaged at one _bolivar_ apiece (negotiations -having been started on a basis of five _bolivars_ apiece, charged by the -boatmen), and we have plenty of room for all, even the Doctor, who is -going with us (for he was just too late for the launch--perhaps, with -malice aforethought); and so we row to the stone steps of the quay of La -Guayra, the port of Caracas, our first landing on the "Spanish Main." - -We have left the land of what we supposed to be our mother tongue, and -are come to a country where we can really be understood, or -misunderstood, according to our abilities to express ourselves, in a -language more constant than English. I take a mental stock, and find -four Spanish phrases which did not fail me in Santo Domingo, and shall -not fail me here. Besides I have been practising them since then! With -these I can fare sumptuously: - -_?Cuanto cuesta?_ (How much does it cost?) - -_?Que hora es?_ (What o'clock is it?) - -_iMucho bonito!_ (Very beautiful!) - -_Yo no entiendo._ (I do not understand.) - -This, with a few nouns sprinkled in, was my vocabulary; but I had no -fears,--had we not our own interpreter? - -And the big, strong oars brought us to the landing. Then we girls, in -charge of the Doctor, were stood up in the shade of a warehouse, where -we watched the white uniformed South Americans, struggling with our -obdurate men for their landing charges--for here they charge for the -right to land. Then the men disappeared with the bags, and we waited -what seemed to us a very long time, until, with one consent, we just -thought we wouldn't stay put another minute; so the Doctor takes the -lead with his big white Indian helmet jammed over his eyes, and Little -Blue Ribbons and Sister raise a fine cloud of dust, running on ahead. -But we older ones know what it means to be in La Guayra, so we follow on -very leisurely. On the way, we meet an excited messenger already sent to -hurry us to the train. - -La Guayra is said to be the hottest place about the West Indies, and I -could well imagine how the Great Mother would have to fan her little -white children, when they once really felt the breath of the -unconscionable sun; but, as we walked along, even though the sun had -climbed a few steady hours, we found it far from uncomfortable, even -carrying our heavy satchels, and the white umbrella, besides. - -Along a dusty and sun-stricken water-front, disfigured with railroad -tracks, and low warehouses, we came to the station, where the men, -triumphant, were impatiently waiting, after sending out their belated -relief expedition. Tickets had been bought, gold pieces divided up into -fascinating silver pieces, called _bolivars_ (in honour of the great -South American liberator--accent on the second syllable, if you please), -and all in our lord and master's own Spanish, of which we were justly -proud; and then we find places in the train, and in a few moments after -our arrival we jerk out among the white houses. - -It was a clever bit of forethought--that move of ours to hunt up the -men. Had we not done so, we could never have caught the early morning -train, for the messenger was slow, and we would have become merely a -part of the hot and dependent crowd on the later "special." It's better -sometimes _not_ to stay where you're put. - -We move along at a good pace among the gardens of La Guayra,--rather -sparse gardens they are,--and then we climb to the balconies, and then a -turn and we are hiding about the Great Mother's green petticoats; and -anon we pass up to the roofs of La Guayra,--which reach out like a white -sombrero over the little people below. - -Then the pull begins. Two powerful, stocky, low-built, narrow-gauge -mountain engines haul us along with apparently no effort, up into the -mountains, up a grade which seems to grow steeper every minute. Our men -say that the average grade is over four per cent. I can't see how it is -that men know all these things about grades and percentages. It seems -like such a lot of plunder to lie around in the brain. But--about such -trifles--men must know and women must ask, and that's all there is to -it. - -It is a continuous twisting and turning and winding, seldom on a level -stretch; it's up, up away from the sea from the very start. Now, we are -far above the tree-tops of the town, and our white ship out in the -harbour lies motionless, and seems far away. We wonder at the courage -of the people who would dare so great a feat of road-building, and grow -doubly curious to see the city, hidden beyond in the clouds of the -mountain. - - -III. - -La Guayra lies just above sea-level. In two hours, we must climb over -the Great Mother's back, going thirty odd miles to reach Caracas, which -lies at an elevation over three thousand feet in a valley, only six -miles in an air line from La Guayra. - -Up, up into the thin vapours, into regions of other trees still higher, -whose tops again we pass amongst. The sun is hazy through a translucent -veil of mist, and far away, the white horses of the sea dance up against -the shore and out of sight, and the white sombrero drops beneath an -emerald cloak, and everything but the sky is shut out. - -We jump first to one side of the car and then to the other, for the -sea-view and for the mountains. We are whirled around quick curves, and -all but lose our feet; and some of us--even men--get dizzy looking at -the drop below us; and then we cut through the mountain and hurry on up -the steep climb until the plucky little engine decides to stop, and we -are told that we have reached the summit; and we hurry from the cars and -feel the sweet coolness of the mountains, and the actual presence of the -Great Mother. - -We stand close together on the brink of a chasm and look tremulously -into the depths of her great heart; down, down, a thousand feet and more -of living, breathing green, into every hue of purple and blue, deepening -into black near the far-off valley, and disappearing into azure among -the clouds,--silence, shadow, tenderness, sublimity, overspread by the -ineffable loveliness of morning. - -We are moving again, and now it is down, gradually, for Caracas lies a -thousand feet below the summit. We follow along a white highroad, the -mountain trail from Caracas to the sea. Now we are on its level; now we -leave it. Long trains of pack-mules make a cloud of gray dust against -the green, and here and there a red blanket thrown across a burro's back -brings a delicious bit of life and colour into the passing scene. - -[Illustration: CARACAS AND THE MOUNTAINS - -Venezuela] - -Now we seem to be on the level, and scurry along at a great rate; and -soon there spring up out of the brown earth _adobe_ houses (the first we -have seen since we were in Mexico), and here are more and yet more, and -there, ah! that must be Caracas, the great Venezuelan capital, the -habitation of over one hundred and fifty thousand people! - -But, shall we say it? Must we be honest at the expense of all else? The -approach to Caracas is a disappointment. There is scarcely any kind of a -habitation which gives a landscape quite such a distressful look as the -_adobe_ hut. Built of sun-dried mud blocks, it gives off an atmosphere -of dust with every whiff of wind. It comes to our mind always with the -thought of dry barrenness, heat, sun, dust, shadeless fields of maguey, -prickly _nopals_, broad sombreros, and leather-clothed _rancheros_. And -to see the suburbs of a great city, the outlying habitations, in gray, -crumbling _adobe_, makes an unpleasant impression, in spite of the fact -that, from the distance, we catch a quick glimpse of a peaceful -campanile and high, imposing roofs a bit beyond. There's only time for a -suggestion, but that suggestion biassed all our later impressions. We -steam into the station and begin to pick up our traps and make for the -carriages. - - -IV. - -As we said before, the spirit of independence gained supremacy, when we -were once fairly upon the Spanish Main. Out of many, a few of us escaped -the tourist agent. A courier had been sent from New York, and at every -port we had the privilege of availing ourselves of his guides, -carriages, meal tickets, _et cetera_, if we wished to do so; and for -some it was certainly a great advantage, for, unless one knows some -French and Spanish, one is at the mercy of every shark that swims, and -these waters are full of them, as are all others for that matter. - -We found the prices very high everywhere, with few exceptions; equally -high for poor accommodations as for the better, the reasons whereof, for -the present, must be left unexplained. Suffice it to say, that the -American is his own worst enemy. Nine-tenths of our party thought it -would be unwise to go through South America from La Guayra to Puerto -Cabello on their own responsibility; so our little group were the only -ones to experience the joy and excitement of an independent tour through -a strange country, where English--good, honest, live English--is a rare -commodity. - -The Doctor, and Mr. and Mrs. M---- from Boston, and Daddy were keen for -the experience. I was afraid we might be left away down in South -America, with no train to carry us on from Caracas, for "the personally -conducted" were to have a "special," but my fears were finally allayed -by constant assurances of safety; so independence carried the day. - -Once inside the Caracas station, Daddy disappears, and, after a bit, we -see him beckoning to us from in among a crowd of vehicles, all very -comfortable and well-appointed, and we sidle along among the noisy South -American cabbies, and jump into the selected carriage. - -Now, what was said to the cabby, I'll never know; but we were no sooner -in that carriage than the horses started on a dead run, rattlety-bang, -whackety-whack, jigglety-jagglety, over stones and ruts, through the -city of Caracas. Up the hill we tore, and all I could see from under -the low, buggy-like canopy was the bottom of things sailing by in a -cloud of dust. Every now and then we struck a street-car track on the -wrong angle, and off we would slew, still on the run, with one wheel in -the track and the other anywhere but in the right place, for half a -block or so, and then no sooner well under way again, than we would all -but smash to pieces some peaceful cab, jogging toward us from the -opposite direction. A train of donkeys, coming from the market, on the -way home to the mountains with empty baskets, narrowly escapes sudden -death at our furious onslaught; and I can yet hear their little feet -pattering off and the tinkle of the leader's bell, as his picturesque -little nose just misses our big clumsy wheel. In a jumble we see the -small feet of the passers-by, and so we jerk along until all at once we -stop with a bump at the _Gran Hotel de Caracas_. - -There we wait in the garden while our recklessly independent men seek -lodgings. None to be had! Off we gallop toward another inn, catch -glimpses of a square, stop again, wait in the carriage, and find the -standing still very delightful. In a few minutes, our bold leaders -return with the look we know so well,--jubilant and hopeful. Beautiful -rooms, fine air, clean beds, sumptuous parlours, and all that,--you know -how it reads. - -We enter the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. - - -V. - -May I be forgiven if I leave the path of calm discretion for once, or -how would it do to leave out the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ altogether, -and turn the page to where the mountains begin? But, you see, if we -leave out the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_, we should have to leave out -Caracas, and that would never do at all. - -There was one member of our party who never sat down to a meal that he -did not declare it was the finest he had ever eaten in his life. This -faculty of taking things as they come, conforming gracefully to the -customs of a country, is, perhaps,--next to unselfishness,--the most -enviable trait in the traveller. Well might it be applied, as we begin -the search for our rooms in the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. We climb a -wide, winding, dirty stairway, pass through the sumptuously dusty -parlour, up another flight of the same kind, only narrower and dustier -and darker. An English housekeeper leads the way, and some one exclaims -(Oh, the blessed charity of that soul!): "How pleasant to find a neat -English woman in charge of the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_!" - -It has never been clear to me just what state of mind could have -inspired that remark; whether it was a momentary blindness, occasioned -by the mad drive, or a kind of temporary delirium, from the sudden -consciousness of power over perplexing foreign relations; or whether it -was merely the natural outburst of an angelic disposition, I could never -quite make out. But those are the identical words he used: "How pleasant -to find a neat English woman at the head of affairs in the _Gran Hotel -de Venezuela_." - -The "neat English woman" had dull, reddish, grayish hair, stringing in -thin, stray locks from a lopsided, dusty knot on the top of her head. -She had freckles, and teeth that clicked when she smiled. A -time-bedraggled calico gown swung around her lean bones, and at her side -she carried a bunch of keys, one of which she slipped up to the top into -a wobblety door, and ushered us into our "apartments." - -The "neat English housekeeper" fitted into that room to a dot. It was -gray, and red, and wobblety, and she was gray, and red, and wobblety. - -If it hadn't been for the everything outside, away beyond the balcony -(for, thank Heaven, no Spanish house is complete without one!), no -amount of philosophy could have atoned for that room. It was simply -white with the accumulated dust of no one knew how long. Our shoes made -tracks on the floor, and our satchels made clean spots on the bureau. -Two slab-sided, lumpy beds suggested troubled dreams. Two thin, -threadbare little towels lay on the rickety, dusty wash-stand, and an -old cracked pitcher held the stuff we must call water. A thin partition -of matched boards dividing ours from the next "apartments," rattled as -we deposited our things in various places which looked a little cleaner -than the places which were not so clean. - -Had it not been for the balcony, we could never have endured it; though -we had put up in queer places before. We had not even the satisfaction -of leaning on the balcony rail; it was too dusty. But we could stand, -and we did stand, looking out over and beyond the picturesque buildings, -to the everlasting hills, to the Andes, their lofty summits encircling -us like an emerald girdle, with calm La Silla thousands of feet above -all. - -Below us lay the city and the Square of Bolivar, with the bronze statue -of the great Liberator in the centre, in the midst of a phalanx of -palms, rising above the dust and the glaring white walk. - - -VI. - -To the left, the Cathedral, one compensation at least for all the rest. -What combination of characteristics is it that makes the Spaniard such a -marvellous builder, and, at the same time, such a wretched maintainer? -He builds a Cathedral to be a joy for all time; its lines fall into -beauty as naturally as the bird's flight toward its nest. Whatever he -builds, he builds for posterity; simply, beautifully, gracefully. Even -his straight rows of hemmed-in city houses have a touch of beauty about -them somewhere; and in the Cathedral, his true artistic sense finds -full expression. Close at hand the noble Campanile, swung with ancient -bells, watches in serene dignity and beauty the moving, streaming life -below. Sweet lines, harmonious to the eye, lift the Cathedral from the -hideous dirt and unkempt streets; from the whirling dust and circling -buzzards, to a sphere of forgetfulness, where beauty struggles for the -supremacy she holds with royal hand so long as we continue to gaze -upward. - -[Illustration: EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR - -Caracas, Venezuela] - -But once let our eyes leave the mountains and the Tower, and it all -changes into that other picture, the other side of the life of that -curious compound of traits, the Spaniard. For here, South American as he -calls himself, down deep in his heart he is ever the Spaniard, and -although he has claimed his independence of the mother country these -many years, through the heroic victories of Bolivar and his brave -associates, his characteristics are Spanish, his arts are Spanish, his -life is Spanish; his glorious Cathedral is Spanish, and his horrible -streets are Spanish; his magnificent statue of Bolivar is Spanish, and -the dowdy, dusty garden about it is Spanish. Was he ever intended to be -a householder? Should not his portion be to beautify the earth by his -artistic intuition, and let the rest of us, who do not comprehend the A -B C of his art, be the cleaners and the menders? Is not this a people -left like children to build up the semblance of a government from the -wrong stuff? Will not the world in time come to see that one race cannot -be all things; that some must be artists, and some mechanics; that some -must be leaders, and others followers; that some will be the builders of -beauty, to last for all time, and others must be the guardians of -health, the makers of strong, clean men? - - -VII. - -Why is it that the President's house,--the great yellow house across the -square, shown us by the Minister of War himself to-day,--one of the -homes of Cipriano Castro, the present Dictator, is nothing more or less -than an arsenal, packed to the full with cartridges, muskets, and -rapid-firing guns, and alive with armed troops? How is it that Castro is -said to have laid by a million dollars out of a twelve thousand dollars -a year salary? Why is it that our going into Venezuela was considered by -some unsafe? Why did we shake every bone in our bodies over the upturned -streets and boulders of Caracas? Because the Venezuelan is trying to do -that for which he is not fitted; in which, during all these long years -of constant revolution, he has failed. He, past-master in certain of his -arts, has taught the world his colours and his lights and shades; he has -given to earth notable tokens of his skill in building; but in -house-cleaning--municipal or national--he is out of his element, and -should no more be expected to excel in that line than a babe in arms -should be expected to know the Greek grammar. - -Like all Spaniards he is mediaeval in his instincts; he cannot really -govern himself as part of a republic. - -The city of Caracas exemplifies this statement. It is in a horrible -state of dirt and disproportion. Its people are kind and courteous, but -its streets are a nightmare; and over all hovers the strong hand of -military despotism. - - -VIII. - -After dinner our first expedition was to call upon the United States -Minister L---- and his wife, who were occupying the former residence of -Count De Toro, some miles out of the city. And what a drive! - -To move comfortably in Caracas, you must either take the donkey -tramway--which never goes where you want to go--or you must walk. But to -walk a half-dozen miles in the hot sun, on a dusty, stony road, is not -particularly inviting, so, with our respects to the sun, we decide to -drive, and all the way out we wonder why we ever did. And yet, had we -walked, I suppose we would have wondered why we hadn't taken a cab. - -As it was, the dust blew about us from the rolling, bumping wheels in -great clouds, and the big stones in the road sent us careening about -from one side of the carriage to the other. Again we think of Mexico--of -the dust, the parched earth, the _arroyos_, and the saving mountains -beyond. We pass a dried-up river-bed, where women are washing in a faint -trickle of water, and then we wind about the hill and climb up the rocky -way, enter a sort of wood, and come suddenly to the minister's house. - -[Illustration: AN INTERIOR COURT - -Caracas, Venezuela] - -Our nation's arms on the gateway make us feel at home, and we jingle the -bell and send in our cards and wait in the shady court. In a few -moments, Minister L---- appears, and with him Mrs. L----, who bids us -enter her cool, delicious drawing-room, very clean and sweet and -old-fashioned and quiet, though the house is truly Spanish, with wide, -airy rooms and curious pictured walls. The men went off up a flight of -stone steps through the garden to the office, to talk politics and the -"Venezuelan situation," I suppose; while we sat there with the -minister's wife, who told us much of her life and the customs of the -country, and, among other things, how difficult it is for a -foreigner--even a diplomat--to gain access to the real home-life of the -Spaniard; how the women live shut in, and see but little of the world, -only glimpses now and then, never knowing anything of our Northern -freedom. - - -IX. - -The drive back to the city was one continuous round of jolt and bump and -dust. We rattled down and up the streets which, despite their -narrowness and general dilapidation, could not be utterly devoid of -interest, if viewed from the eyes of the lover of wrought-iron handiwork -and graceful handlings of simple and strong elements in building. - -We were told that it was our duty to view the Municipal Palace, and dear -Sister, although I knew she was tired, did not want anything seeable -omitted; so we most willingly left the cabs at the palace door, with the -hope of never having the agony of that ride repeated. - -As the Spaniard builds his cathedral, so does he impart to each -important structure a fitting grace and dignity of style commensurate -with its office. The Municipal Palace is built about a great hollow -square or plaza, which is filled with palms and other similarly -beautiful vegetation. But, oh, dear! oh, dear! the dust! The great -reception-hall, or audience-chamber,--or whatever one might call -it,--was lined with stately gilt chairs and sofas, done up in linen -dusters. The effort of driving and seeing and jolting and being -agreeable had been such a strain that I just thumped down on one of the -wide sofas and spent my time looking about me, while the others -conscientiously made the _grande tour_ from one end of the great room to -the other. - -It is a large oval hall ornamented with some very fine historical -paintings. The Spanish Student had found an obliging officer--for -soldiers are everywhere--and I quietly left the two alone. I thought it -too cruel, after our long drive, to expect him to retranslate for my -benefit, but then there came a faint suspicion in my mind, from a -troubled expression on his face, when the guide launched into the deep -waters of Venezuelan history, with Bolivar rampant and the Spaniards -fleeing, that, possibly, it was not all clear sailing; that, possibly, -this was just the occasion for the last of my phrases. No, I watch the -face; it resumes once more its usual expression of serenity, and I sit -there and think how beautiful it might all be if it were only clean; if -Bolivar could only come back again and teach his children their -unlearned lesson of disinterested self-love of country and home. - -Bolivar appears to have been the only liberator (and each new -"President" who throws out the defeated party and instates himself is -called "liberator") who ever died poor, having spent not only public -funds for the betterment of arts and science and education, but -nine-tenths of his own personal patrimony as well. - -The guide closes the blinds, and our party comes together at the door, -leaving nice little clean spots where they have stood in groups on the -dusty, once highly polished floor, and we turn down the long, wide -balcony to an open door at the end. A brilliantly uniformed, handsome -lad bars admission, for Castro the Great is holding a cabinet meeting -there, and we can see the collar of a black alpaca coat and the back of -a very solemn-looking chair, and hear a low voice speaking,--and that -was all we saw of Castro. - -Some one proposes a drive; some one else suggests the shops, but we -decide to go home. That dear old word sounds lonesome away down here in -South America. Does it mean the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_? Was this the -home; or was it the wide, out-reaching mountains, fading into the deeps -of night; or the Cathedral, rising from the dread below in her sweet -chastity? - - -X. - -Tired bells jangle out the slowly passing time. An ancient carillon -sounds the quarter, an added clang the half, one note more for three -quarters. The long black arms reach to the hour, then another and -another passes, and night brings rest to the Great Mother. But the soft -gentle eyes are no sooner closed than all the children, the white -children at her feet, begin to stir and move, just as yours and mine do -when mother sleeps. - -The old church towers, with sweet grace, wrap about her stately form a -mantle of whitest silver, bordered with great lines of black, and away -above her head, up in God's garden, forget-me-nots and heartsease -blossom out into twinkling spots of starlit beauty. - -The moon rolls languidly on in the gentlest heaven that earth e'er -looked upon. - -Below, beneath God's garden, the white children brighten and awaken from -the drowsy languor of the long day. Lights flare out, doors open, and -streets fill with happy voices, and a white-frocked humanity empties -itself into the Plaza to hear yet again the great Military Band of -Caracas. - -There comes a hush, and then--it must be from the garden away off so -far--there drops a veil,--the veil of forgetfulness, in sounds of music -so inexpressibly tender and alluring as to catch the soul from earth -away up to where white angels gather the forget-me-nots and heartsease. -The crumbling city and its disordered sights, the dust and all -unpleasantness pass away beyond the veil, and all that remains is -covered with the witchery of music. - -To make it real, we, too, join the children and press in close, just as -our little ones do who fear not the expression of their emotions. We, -too, press in where the makers of this wonderful music, sixty of them, -stand in a great semicircle at the head of a flight of stone steps, and -then we listen to the old, eternally old stories of life and love and -joy and tragedy; listen, until our souls are filled to the utmost with -the deeps of life! - -An intermission comes; we take a deep breath; meanwhile he of the -Spanish vocabulary, made bold by enthusiasm, threaded his way to where -the leader of the band was nonchalantly smoking a cigarette, wishing to -congratulate him on the masterful work done by his musicians, and also -to thank him for having just played "The Star Spangled Banner," in -honour of the Americans present. - -Shrugging his shoulders, the bandmaster remarked that his men had almost -forgotten that American thing, as it was twelve years since last they -played it! Thus does the Venezuelan show his love for these United -States. But we forget that in the charm of the reawakened melody, for it -is the kind of music that speaks real things; that brings the great -forgetting of things visible; that brings the great remembering of -things eternal. Mellow notes, as from the throat of a blackbird, slip -through the liquid night as softly as the splash of feathered warblers -in the cool water brooks, and when the strong word is uttered, it comes -forth like the voice of a seer, unjarring, made strong through great -tenderness. - -Closer and closer we press to lose not the slightest note, and we -realise that it is the music which comes to our cold Northern senses but -once in a lifetime, and our ears plead for more and yet more. No strings -could ever have so mellowed themselves into the loveliness of that night -as did those liquid oboes, whose sylvan tones filtered through our -senses with ineffable sweetness. The wood and brass seemed to have been -tempered by long nights of tears and days of smiles, so ripened were -they into an expression of the soul of humanity. - -At last the Great Mother sleeps, her children are tired and go to rest, -and God's garden blossoms away, away off beyond in the far country. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS - - -I. - -The choice lay between a luncheon on board our vessel down in the hot -harbour of La Guayra, with President Cipriano Castro and his suite -invited as guests of honour by the German officers, or an added day in -Caracas; and then a glimpse of South America on our way by Valencia to -Puerto Cabello, where we would again take ship. The question was -well-discussed, _pro_ and _con_, and finally decided in favour of -Venezuela, the country _versus_ Castro, its dictator. After all, General -Castro was not so very different from the other Venezuelans all about -us, except in that great element, his personal success for the time -being; and then you know we did see his alpaca coat and the back of his -chair, and we heard his voice in the council-chamber,--at least we -thought we did,--and that really ought to be enough to satisfy any one. - -In a way, we did feel satisfied, and yet there was a lingering -inclination toward that luncheon. It might be that, for once, the great -man would look, act, appear just a little different from the every-day -sort. It was only a remnant of the everlasting hope for a perfect -adjustment of mind and body,--that futile phantasmagoria which would -make the great man great in all things. And to give up and leave Castro -in a common, every-day alpaca coat,--and only the back of it at -that,--when we might see him in gold lace and gorgeous uniform, well, it -was too bad; but then old common sense comes lumbering along and spoils -the whole thing, and tells us it's no use, no use at all, mourning over -the impossible; he's only a man, and a little man at that, and there are -plenty of fine men all over the world, and there's only one South -America; and so and so on, until the balance weighs so heavily against -the Castro faction that, when the time came to take the train for La -Guayra, we divided the party, sent the little girls back to the ship -with our friends, and turned ourselves loose upon the sunny streets of -Caracas. - - -II. - -We had no guide-book, no one told us what to do, no one seemed to know -what we ought to do; so, freed from all restraint, we had the delightful -sensation of unlimited liberty. - -It was Ash Wednesday and the church-bells rang incessantly. We took to -the left, passing the Cathedral, whose black shades enveloped one after -another of the faithful, and kept straight on, to where the women in -white frocks and lace mantillas, and the black serving-girls with -baskets, and the small boys, and trains of burros were streaming down in -the direction of the market. Most naturally we join the procession, now -in the street, with the cabs and carriers of all sorts of things, and -now jostling in among the people on the narrow sidewalk of the shady -side. - -We have no intention of telling about the flies and the smells and the -dirt. They were all there and can easily be pictured, and we really have -no intention of staying but a moment in the market, for we have seen so -many before; but once a part of the big throng of buyers and sellers; -once fairly free from the South Americans who insist upon speaking -English, once free to use our own laboriously acquired Spanish, we stay -on and on, buy and eat all sorts of curious fruit, until we fear for the -consequences, and are delightfully uncomfortable and happy. - -It was a surprise to find in Caracas a market which surpassed in -varieties and quantities any other place we had ever seen. - -Caracas, with its abortive palms, its dusty, dried-up appearance, gave -one the impression of unproductiveness; and the dinner of the night -before, with meat, meat, meat,--an exaggerated Trinidadian affair--led -us to expect anything but fresh, sweet, delectable fruits; but here they -were in masses! We had searched every port for pineapples, and these -were the first ones we had found which answered to our ideals formed -years ago by the pineapples of Amatlan and Southeastern Mexico. And such -dear little thin-skinned refreshing limes! I wonder why they are not -exported more freely in place of the big, thick-coated lemons? I suppose -the impression prevails that the American wants everything on a big -scale, so he gets the big lemon in place of the dainty aromatic lime. -There we found in great abundance all the fruits with which we had grown -familiar on the islands, but more surprising, the fruits of the -temperate regions as well. There were some queer kinds of melons, too. -We tried them, of course; we tried everything, buying here a slice of -pineapple for _dos centavos_, and over at another stall a _medio's_ -worth of mangoes; then we take up a piece of a curious fruit and examine -it rather suspiciously. Its meat is yellow and covered with little black -seeds, just the size and appearance of capers, and when one eats it, the -seed is the only element of flavour. It has so exactly the taste of -water-cress that one needs to use considerable will-power to believe it -is a melon, and not a salad. - -Here were grapes, both white and black, and sweet and sour lemons, and -all sizes of oranges. There were peaches and apricots, and curious -little apples, about the size of a small crab-apple; and delicious -little Alpine strawberries from away up in the Andes, and then there -were in every stall mangoes, and sapodillas, and granaditas, and -pineapples sweet as honey and luscious, and curious aguacotes and -zapotas and many unknown fruits--besides the ever-present cocoanut. - -And vegetables! I only wish we could tell you the names of all the -aromatic herbs and green stuffs spread out to tempt us. But there was -one thing we did recognise at first sight: the beans--nine different -varieties in one stall and maybe as many more in another--"_frijoles de -todas clases_," the market-woman announced for our encouragement. A -procession of bulging baskets crowds us along out of the market, and we -move on to make room for a stream of empty baskets coming from the -opposite direction. - - -III. - -We take a straightaway course down toward the ever-beautiful curves of a -massive old church, some blocks off, and on the way, with the wanderer's -prerogative, step into the open door of a fine modern building, -apparently a bank. The Spanish Student walks up to a grilled window in -the court to get an American gold piece changed into Venezuelan -bolivars and is at once invited to enter. The president and -vice-president of the bank were at conference in a finely appointed, -spacious office, and as we appeared, both greeted us most cordially and -addressed us in perfect English. The weather started the ball of -conversation rolling, and from that we chatted on about the voyage, and -the islands, and all sorts of things; and then the men launched into a -discussion of the political situation, and from that to the power -Germany was acquiring in a mercantile way in their country. And they -told us how the Germans came there with their families, and taught their -children from babyhood the language and customs of the South Americans, -at the same time holding firmly their grasp of the mother tongue and the -thrifty business methods of their home concerns. Thus given from infancy -this advantage of a thorough knowledge of the language and customs of -the country, they acquire a prestige with which no amount of ability in -a foreigner can compete should he be less ably equipped. How dangerous -to America is becoming this Teutonic power and prestige we do not -realise, for who can fathom the ambition and persistency of the Kaiser -and his subjects in South America--Germans all, though thousands of -miles from Berlin? - -I could but admire the facility and ease with which these South American -men of affairs expressed themselves in English, and I thought, how few -there were of us who could thus readily express ourselves in Spanish. It -came to me forcibly that the American who is truly far-sighted, is the -one who is acquiring, and having his children acquire, a good speaking -knowledge of Spanish; for the time is surely coming when our need of -Spanish will be far greater than to-day. The time is coming, if we guard -our interests aright, when these South Americans will look to the North -for a closer bond than now exists, and when that time does come, the man -most potent in the new relation will be he who can, by a knowledge of -the language, customs, and habits, place himself in perfect sympathy -with his South American brothers. And we must remember, too, that we are -dealing with men whose education is based upon the time-honoured culture -of an old world, men of attainment, of polish and policy, of strength -and power; however much that power may be at times misguided, there is -latent great force and adaptability. - -The South American is a man of marked and strong mental ability, and is -already--and for that matter has for years been--modelling his laws -after those of his more fortunate younger brother of the Northern -continent. It is not in proper law and forms of government that he -lacks, but in their proper enforcement, and back of all in the muzzling -of that healthy public interest that would demand their enforcement. -However much he fails in government, the time when his country will be -dispassionately ruled by fixed and just legislation is hoped for by such -men as the officers of this bank. For how can the country's business go -on amid the turmoil of ever-impending revolution? - -These West Indian Islands and South America, combined, have been used by -all nations who have profited by their marvellous productiveness merely -for what can be gotten out of them through one resource and another; -even North Americans themselves are not above reproach in their quarrels -over the Venezuelan Pitch Lake concessions, which was then a subject of -keen interest. But in spite of the fact that some Americans have been -feathering their nests from this foreign down, still I believe that our -people will eventually lead the world in true philanthropy,--the -philanthropy of development and honest business methods, and that ours -should be the hand that brings to the South American the solution of his -great difficulties; directed not to annexation of these Southern lands, -but to helping in the evolution of a stable, self-respecting independent -government. - -South America is waiting for the great hand, for the great liberator of -the land from the faults and follies of its own sons, and when he comes -he will find a country rich to overflowing in unrealised possibilities. -The curse of these countries seems to be in the love of the Spanish -American for political intrigue, which periodically bears fruit in the -bogus political "liberator," throbbing with meretricious and -self-seeking ambition which he bombastically labels "Patriotism." - -[Illustration: CATHEDRAL AND PLAZA - -Caracas, Venezuela - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -If you had stood face to face with two such well-poised types of -conservative South Americans as we met that morning, I feel sure that -you, too, might hope for a great future for this country, could it but -be represented and led by its best men. - - -IV. - -With courteous good wishes, we left the senors' pleasant company, and -went on, still in the direction of a church-tower. The shops were far -from interesting, much like others down in the islands, with the -exception of a chocolate-shop, which we found to be the sales office of -a factory where a great deal of prepared chocolate is made, for Caracas -is a great chocolate market. After we had filled our pockets with all we -could carry, of chocolate blocks and chocolate fishes and chocolate -dolls, we started on again, munching the chocolate as we went, until we -came at last to the Cathedral, which was in a state of mortar and lime -and scaffolding, due to having the cracks from last October's earthquake -doctored up in the same matter-of-fact way that we clean house in the -spring. - -Well, we were glad at last to have seen the inside of the Cathedral, for -even without the suggestion of a guide-book, we had in a sort of way -felt that we ought to do so; such a slave of "Ought" does the traveller -become, in spite of utmost precaution. - -By this time the sun was nearing noon, and we naturally turned in the -direction of the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ as the only available place -in which to rest; that is, I thought it was the only available place, -but the Spanish Student knew better. How he knew, or when he had -experimented, he would not say, nor could the truth be forced or dragged -from him, as he walked on toward the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_; but I -had a suspicion, from the decided click to his step, and a lurking joy -in his eye, that he had forsaken the Gran Hotel de Venezuela; that he -had discovered a new Arcadia, and, oh! it was so delightful to feel that -it was not the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. Then he stopped at a -lattice,--I am sure there wasn't a door in the house--at the lattice of -an enticing _Dulceria_, and we sat down where it was cool and quiet, and -I waited to see what would happen. _El propietorio_ appears. At once, at -the sight of the Spanish Student, the senor smiles, and disappears. They -had met before. The senor enters once more,--for we are not to be left -to an ordinary waiter,--this time with two tall glasses,--very tall, -thin glasses. - -If you could only have felt the fatigue of that moment! We had tramped -about three hours, under the high, white sun, with the drowsy spell of -noon creeping stealthily over the city, and even over the insatiable -tourist; if you could have been with us to have seen the two tall -glasses, filled to the brim, placed on the table by mine host himself, -you, too, would have concluded that it was no small matter to be thus -refreshed. It looked like lemonade, and yet it didn't, and it -tasted,--well there's no other explanation possible; it was bewitched. -Mine host had crossed his heart, looked twice over his right shoulder, -turned three times on his left toe, and then pronounced the spell. - -One taste convinced me that it took a lot of things to make that -lemonade,--a lot of things besides limes and water, and whatever that -lot of things was, it was the finest combination I had ever known. Mine -host pronounced it lemonade; so did the Spanish Student, though I heard -him suggest "_un poquito de Rom Imperial_" to the senor. With one taste, -all fatigue took wings, everything took wings. The bent-wood table -capered off with the bent-wood chair, and the long, fly-specked mirror -cavorted from side to side with the parrot-cage. Everything was lovely -and undulatory, and life was one long oblivion of the red-headed -housekeeper at the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. - -He, the one opposite, leaned back and looked amused and satisfied, and -said: "There's more coming." - -"What, more lemonade?" - -"No, not more lemonade, but more of something else." - -And then it came. Again two tall glasses of a delicious rose-coloured -ice, made of fresh wild strawberries, gathered that morning among the -glistening dew of the Andes. In the centre of the ice, like the rakish -masts of a fairy's ship, two richly browned, delicate tubes of sweetened -pastry bore the ensign of our feast. - -They reminded me of the lamplighters we children used to make at a -penny a hundred, on winter evenings by the crackling coal fire. - -You remember? Or have you never had the fun? - -You take a bit of paper an inch wide and twelve inches long, wet your -finger, give a queer kind of twist to one corner and up it rolls, in a -long, neat shape. Double it over at the end, and there you are. -Sometimes it unwinds, and then it is exactly like the confectioner's -roll in Caracas, only white instead of a rich, luscious brown. - -From that moment on, all other attractions of Caracas, the University, -the _Casa Amarilla_, the Pantheon, palled in attraction before that -_Dulceria_. It became to us, and to every one we met, the loadstone of -Caracas. To taste of an ice made from berries picked among the valleys -of the Andes is no small matter, and to quaff a lemonade which, without -suspicion, could still fashion wings at least as lasting as those of -Icarus of old, is also no small matter, and may we not be forgiven and -no questions asked if we confess to more than one return to the -_Dulceria_ shop just across the Plaza in Caracas? - - -V. - -Four o'clock was the hour appointed for the coming together of our -diminished party, and until then the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ was -supposed to hold me in its ancient decrepitude, and it did hold me until -about three o'clock; when the bells set up such a clanging, and were so -zealous to get me up and out of bed and into their mid-afternoon -vespers, that I finally yielded to their summons, and, making a hasty -toilet, stole down the creaking stairs and out into the streets. - -No Northern city at midnight is more soundly asleep than the tropical -town in mid-afternoon. The heavy white blinds are down, the green -lattices closed tightly, awnings dropped close before the shop-doors; -while the cabby and his horse, on guard near the Plaza, doze in willing -slumber. The market is empty, the little donkeys are long since browsing -upon the green slopes of the foot-hills; the street criers are still, -the whole world seems dead asleep, and, as I slipped along toward the -Cathedral, the drowsy chanting of priests' voices was the only sound -which broke the quiescence of that delicious afternoon. For delicious -it was, in truth. All of God's part was in its perfectness. The air was -sweetly cool and refreshing, with a flavour of mountain ozone mingled -with the sunlight, and, as I came to a cross street, looking up the long -narrow, white reach to the foot-hills, it was with a bit of imagining, -like a glimpse through the tube of a huge kaleidoscope, with the green -and purple and blue and yellow mountains an ever-changing vista of -resplendent colour in the vanishing distance. - -The priests' voices called out again, and I entered the high-domed, -sweet place of worship. The chancel and altar were being repaired, so it -was in the oblong nave that the priests, white-robed, rich with lace and -embroidery, sat in ancient carved chairs, saying in responsive chants -the words decreed for Ash Wednesday. The priests were old, and some were -very feeble, and it seemed at times an effort for them to rise when the -service demanded. A number of young men, of lesser dignity, assisted, -and two little acolytes in red sat quite at the end of the row of -priests. Still the chanting goes on and on, and the voices are -monotonously sleepy, and long drifts of mellow, shaded light drop down -on the white robes, and one of the priests yawns, and the little acolyte -nods, and then goes fast asleep; and up overhead the lofty dome reechoes -the somnolent voices, and I hear the old bells telling me about four -o'clock, but they seem very indistinct and sleepy and uninterested. And -I feel sleepy and nod, and wonder if it's the priests' voices or the -bells that put everybody to sleep, and I forget all about four o'clock -until a workman way down near the altar, perched on a high ladder, -mending more cracks, knocks off a piece of plaster, and I start and look -around, then tiptoe out; while the bells tell me that the quarter-hour -is gone with the rest of the day. - - -VI. - -Caracas is responsible for a decided turning about from some of my -former estimates of the Spanish character. It is not necessary to say -just exactly what these preconceived opinions were, but they were there, -and as I supposed, a fixture. In the children's neighbourhood brawls, I -have noticed frequently that, whenever vengeance was to be meted upon -some offending head, he was called by one and all, "a Spaniard." That -was enough to arouse all the wrath of his youthful spirit into -rebellion, and until the word was recalled, war reigned. This of course -is largely since our late trouble with Spain. I shall not say that the -use of the word exactly represented my state of mind toward the South -Americans, but, in spite of the many pleasant experiences of years gone -by in Mexico, I shall confess to a somewhat allied feeling with regard -to that name, and to all people who are in any way affiliated with the -race, and I dare say that something of this same prejudice has existed -among our people at large for some time, and not altogether without -cause. - -To have that impression partially removed was one of the results of an -evening spent at the opera in Caracas, where General Cipriano Castro had -arranged an especially fine performance to be given in honour of the -North Americans then visiting his republic. The opera-house was -decorated in our nation's colours, intertwined with the yellow, red, and -blue of Venezuela, and every seat not taken by our party was occupied by -the representative citizens of Caracas. The performance--a light, comic -opera--was of excellent standard, and passed off with great applause. -Much as we enjoyed the music, the Venezuelans themselves were our -greatest object of interest. - -The house was apportioned in the usual foreign style, with two tiers of -boxes circling on either side from the President's box in the rear -centre. The women, as usual, occupied the front seats in the boxes, and -were thus in a position to be seen and observed very closely. And -never--I make no exception, no exception whatever--have I seen such -modest, womanly appearing women as were present at the opera that night. -They did not giggle nor stare nor flirt. They were richly, beautifully, -becomingly gowned, but, although arrayed with a desire to please, they -were as modest and unassuming as a lot of little girls at a doll's -tea-party. Their eyes no sooner met yours than they dropped,--not -affectedly, but naturally, naively,--and it was impossible to refrain -from forming an opinion of the conditions of society from the faces and -actions of these women. - -Women make society what it is; they make it right, high, true, and -pure; they make it wrong, low, false, and vile, and the general -appearance and actions of the women of a country, studied by an observer -of human nature, will tell more truthfully the moral condition of a -people than any book ever written. - -Whatever faults the Spaniard may have bequeathed to his descendants; -whatever his failings in government and kindred problems, the women, -these beautiful women of Caracas, made us feel that they had set for -themselves high standards of morality; that the social life was away -beyond the level we had expected; that the family--the wife--is a sacred -trust given the man to protect in honour and virtue so long as he lives. - -There is, no doubt, much to be said against the rigid life of seclusion -led by the Spanish women, but there is this to be said in its favour: it -has created a race of men who honour and respect their homes, a race of -men whose attitude toward women is universally respectful and -deferential. With all our stiff-necked New England self-sufficiency, we -have yet much to learn, we women of the North, and let it not be beneath -our dignity to remember that the South American women have some lessons -learned which we have yet to master; and perhaps there are none who -could teach us more gently or more effectively than the modest, womanly -women of Caracas. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS TO PUERTO CABELLO - - -I. - -And now we are at the railway station, headed for Valencia and Puerto -Cabello, still determined to continue unguided back to the coast. - -There was to me something so extraordinary in the thought that, for -once, we were really to get ahead of the professional guides, that it -required repeated and oft repeated assurances to at least one of the -women of our circle from the kindly official at the railway station, to -relieve all doubts as to the wisdom of our plans. Of course, the men of -our party had no doubts, at least, none were expressed; and yet some of -us, particularly the writer, could hardly believe that the train we were -to take would carry us on through Valencia, past the lovely Lake of -Valencia down to Puerto Cabello, a half-hour in advance of the Special -Train with the Special Courier; that we would be a half-hour earlier at -luncheon in the mountains, and a half an hour earlier that evening in -reaching Puerto Cabello; and this latter would be no small consideration -after a long, hot ride from mountain-top to sandy beach. - -But this was to be the case, so the official informed us, not only in -Spanish, but in French, and very perfect French, too--for not -understanding Spanish, we women of course had to hear it all over again -in French; so we left the party, and boarded the regular morning train -for Valencia, amidst the warnings of many, the doubts of all the timid -ones, and the envy of a few jollier spirits. What would become of us, if -this train should make up its mind not to go through to Puerto Cabello, -and drop us at La Victoria, or San Joaquin perhaps; and what if the -much-lauded Special should after all fly on and leave us in the -mountains, high and dry, a half-day's journey to Puerto Cabello, with no -means of reaching the ship on sailing-time; and what if our pretty boat -should sail away to God's country, and leave us literally stranded, -marooned for weeks, on the sun-blighted beach of Puerto Cabello, -waiting for a ship? - -[Illustration: A HOUSE BESIDE THE SEA - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela] - -A thousand "ifs" are flung at us, but there stands the big, handsome -South American railway official, with a rose in his buttonhole, patent -leathers on his feet, and a smile on his face, and visible support in -every attitude of his fine body; so we settle down, reassured, and look -around to count heads, and we check off--all but one, the Doctor,--he is -not at the station. Where is he? Where is the Doctor? He has sworn to -stand by us to the end; in fact had been one of the prime movers in this -venture, and here we are ready to start, even the men are aboard the -funny little train, and the Doctor not in sight. - -Ten anxious heads lean out from ten abbreviated windows; ten distressed -voices ask in all available tongues, "Where is the Doctor?" We ask the -official--the one with the rose--if he has seen one called the Doctor, -with bland, smiling face, round and jovial; blue eyes, light hair, -walking with a confident, easy swing, wearing a linen suit and East -Indian pith helmet. No one answering that description had come to the -station. Fully half an hour before we left the _Gran Hotel de -Venezuela_, the Doctor had taken a cab, so that there should be no doubt -or question as to his being on time; for the Doctor was an orderly man, -of decided opinions and exact habits. He was never known to be late at -an appointment. He had with him the free untrammelled air of the -unmarried man. He had neither wife to detain, nor sweetheart to beguile -him. He was a free-lance, and yet here it was, a moment before the time -for departure, and the Doctor nowhere to be seen. - -The train shivers, quivers, gives a bump or so, squeaks out a funny -foreign whistle, and we are moving out of Caracas. Ten of us instead of -eleven. Ten much troubled wanderers, thinking and wondering a very great -deal. We pass the curious little chapel upon the hill, with its five -disjointed little steeples, looking as if one more quake of the grand -old Mother would topple them all over for good; pass the low _adobe_ -huts on the outskirts of the city, and then catch a last glimpse of the -Cathedral and its dear old bells, and the trees about the Square of -Bolivar; and are almost into the rich country, outlaying the great -city. But where is the Doctor! Had he been beguiled or waylaid, or had -he waited for one too many a sip of the unforgettable lemonade; or had -he gone to sleep with the priests under the magic of the old bells? - -No, nothing seemed to fit in just right. The Doctor had reached years of -discretion, he knew the wiles of women, and, as for being waylaid, that -was hardly possible, for he always carried his chest high; and, as for -the priests,--no, it was not the priests, for the Doctor had paid his -respect to the Cathedral the day before. Hadn't we seen his white hat -disappear under the big, open doorway as we were on the way to market? -But the lemonade,--there was the hitch; he might have longed for one -more glimpse of the _Dulceria_, and the tall glass and the indescribable -nectar,--_con un poquito de Rom Imperial_,--yes, he might have done so, -any normal being might have done so, and that must be the whole trouble; -then, just as we had decided on the lemonade, we stop at Palo-Grande, -out in the gardens beyond the town, and into the car rushed a red-faced, -very mad American, with satchels and luggage and souvenirs in his hands, -and rage upon his face,--the Doctor; none more--none less,--the lost -wanderer! - -If any one was ever welcome, he was. We figuratively threw our arms -about him, and wept with joy at the return of our long-lost brother. The -Doctor's face was a study. From despair, it changed to delight, and he -flung himself into a seat, too happy to speak. But the Doctor was not -slow in giving us an explanation. He had been experimenting on some very -choice, newly acquired Spanish. That was the trouble, and instead of -taking him to the city station, the cabby, probably anxious for a good -fare, had driven about five miles to the first way-station on the road. -I did not think the Doctor could ever have been disconcerted under any -circumstances, but he was as thoroughly scared as one has need to be and -live; and for the rest of the day, every few minutes, he would break out -with some forceful expression about fool Americans who couldn't speak -Spanish and fool Spaniards who couldn't speak English. We all then and -there decided that we would learn Spanish or die. One or the other we -are sure to do. - - -II. - -It is a difficult matter to engage the Doctor in either scenery or -conversation, and, in spite of all the wonders in which we find -ourselves, as the plucky little train hurries along, it is a sort of -laugh and jollification all the way with the Doctor. - -I shall never forget the willows at the station where our Doctor -appeared. They were so exquisitely graceful and beautiful. They were -tall, with somewhat of the habits of the Lombardy poplar, close-limbed, -sinewy, and with the plumy grace of a bunch of feathers, bending, -bowing, whirling, swishing, in the cool mountain air, and I shall always -think of them as the Doctor's willows; for just as his frightened face -popped into the door, in the twinkling of an eye, I glanced out of the -window, and there stood that row of tall willows, like coy, young -maidens, bowing their gentle heads in graceful congratulation. The -Doctor's willow was to me one of the rarest, sweetest trees of that -wonderful day of trees, of that wonderful world of trees, of that -wonderful land of infinite beauties, known only to those whose eyes have -touched the vibration of their being. This willow, modest, unassuming -as it is, so unlikely to attract attention, without flower or colour, -other than the richest green that sunshine ever bestowed upon a leaf, -was in its way as exquisite as a dream of lace and dew-drops, as tender -as the sound of a lute, as sweetly sinuous as the drop of a violet's -head; and the mountain air, filtering through the thin, arrow-like -leaves, was music fit for gods,--not men. - -But the Doctor would not look at the willows, nor at the tall -grass--tall--tall--tall--following along the bed of a limpid stream--the -Guaira--tumbling along over pools and rocks and mossy beds; grasses so -high that even Jack's famous giants must needs stand on tiptoe to peep -over the top; grass twenty to thirty feet high, with feathery plumes -gracing the tall spires in masses of waving beauty. He would not see the -beauty of the picture that the Great Mother showed us, for he was still -in a dazed state of combined bewilderment, anger, and joy, and you know -it takes time to find one's feet after such an experience. - -But did I tell you how as usual bravery was rewarded? When we boarded -the train, we noticed our coach was unusually fine for a Venezuelan -railway, and we wondered at it. Later the conductor explained that it -was the private car of the general manager, all the common coaches being -taken up to complete the Special Train; and so the Doctor was at last -content. - - -III. - -Speeding along over the lordly plateau beyond Caracas, through a country -where the faintest effort on the part of man to cultivate the earth, the -least scratch with the hoe, meets with more than abundant response, -where, even in the high mountain altitude, sweet fields of cane and -coffee bring restful green and delicious shades in the ever-pervading -sunlight, we were entertained by some of the party, who were prophesying -a hard day and a hot day with a relish which was quite enviable. Why is -it that there must always be those who are constantly anticipating hot -weather? It seems to be out of the question to escape them; they either -predict that it will be, must be, unbearably hot, or unbearably cold, -according to the latitude in which they happen to be found. There seems -to be no way of getting along comfortably with the present. So we -listened while dire forebodings were omened for Valencia, and worse for -Puerto Cabello. - -In the meantime one of our friends,--Mrs. M---- from Boston,--was -suffering with a severe headache, and the Doctor, who had been in the -seat ahead of us, was asked if, in that small, black, professional-looking -valise, there was not something to relieve her pain. And then the Doctor -broke forth once more: - -"There's no use. I can't stand this any longer. I was called up last -night for the sick man in the after-deck stateroom; after each port I am -asked to prescribe for men suffering from swizzle jags, and I'm routed -out at all hours, and buttonholed by nervous women I don't know. I wish -I could help Mrs. M----; nothing would make me happier. But to tell the -truth, I'm not a doctor. I am only a plain business man--a manufacturer. -Somehow, when the passenger-list was made up, I was put in as 'Doctor -S----' and the list was printed and circulated before I knew of my -title. Then every one called me 'Doctor,' and it was such an easy name -to catch that I thought I'd just let it go, and I've been 'Doctor' to -every one ever since; but when it comes to setting a leg or curing a -headache, I must put an end to it." - -But the name had become fixed. It was there to stay, so the Doctor was -the "Doctor" in spite of his lack of diploma, and, in one sense, by his -good cheer, his readiness to join in fun, his stock of good stories, and -his consideration for others, he was quite as beneficial to our -sometimes weary selves, as if he carried his pockets full of bitter -tonic and invigorating elixirs. - - -IV. - -In front of us sat the Doctor; back of us sat a young South American -from "up country," with whom we entered into conversation, and from whom -we learned much to confirm our rapidly forming opinions of his great -country--Venezuela. He spoke English well, having been educated -partially in England, partially in New York. He came from the Province -of Colombo, to me a very indefinite, remotely hidden-away place -somewhere in the Andes, accessible only by two or three days' journey -from Caracas, partly by mule and partly by boat up the Maracaibo River. -By the way, we are told that Colombo is the native state of that peppery -little dictator--the present President Castro. - -This South American gentleman had been sent to Caracas to interview -Castro and his ministers with regard to a loan of twenty thousand -dollars in horses, cattle, and provisions made during the last -revolution to the faction which had placed Castro in power; the -transaction had evidently been dignified by the soothing name of "a -loan" because the quondam cowboy leader Castro had ended as a -self-elected President. Just what our fellow traveller's success had -been, we were unable to learn or he to tell, for this same General -Castro is a wily bird and keeps many an honest Venezuelan guessing. He -told us what we already knew,--that Venezuela needs peace--peace--peace, -and that, until she is assured of peace, her great hands must be idle. -We needed no words to assure us of her greatness. It was there before -us. The idle hands were clasping rich harvests unsown, rich treasures in -gold and silver glittered upon her fingers, and following the sweep of -her green mantle, there was a race of warm-hearted children, within -whose being there was the making of great men and women. But there must -be peace. For, when there is war, her great men go to the front, her -brave men are killed; but in some unfortunate way her political schemers -and professional revolutionists survive, and are always ready to make -new trouble. "He who fights and runs away will live to fight another -day." - -And so they run away--the unsuccessful ones--to Curacao, to Paris, or to -some of the neighbouring South American states, but their dirty shadows -ever hang imminent on the horizon. - - -V. - -During the conversation with our South American friends, we had reached -the end of the plateau, and the descent began into the great valley -below. It was not until we reached that point that we realised the -wonder of this Venezuelan railroad, or that we understood the reason of -its being called the "Great Venezuelan Railway"--_Gran Ferrocarril de -Venezuela_. Like the greater portion of all the business enterprises in -South America and the West Indies, the railroad was built by Germans. -Krupp, of gun fame, was named as the head of the company, and too much -cannot be said of the courage and skill of men who undertook to build a -road under such difficulties. There are railways of difficult -construction all over the world, indeed, but never, in our experience, -were we more impressed with the magnitude of an undertaking than we were -with the construction of this masterful road; though one might well -criticise the business judgment of men who would thus put millions of -dollars into an enterprise that apparently can never be self-supporting. -Think of it, eighty-seven tunnels through rocky mountain spurs, one -hundred and twenty heavy steel bridges between Caracas and Valencia, -miles of rock-cutting and costly filling, and all this to carry a -handful of passengers and a few tons of freight each day--altogether not -enough to load one of our "mixed trains" in the States! - -It follows where cataracts leap a thousand feet, where rivers boil in -thundering roar over mighty rocks; it cuts the mountain top asunder and -dashes through the rock-hewn lap of earth; it drops down through the -tops of giant trees, and robs the morning of her mist; it mingles with -the clouds, and anon kisses the feet of the ocean--but it doesn't pay -dividends. - -From its heights, the earth stretches out in wonderful ridges of -gigantic proportion; geography becomes real, a fact, seen in the great -perspective. The air is so clear that the eye seems to have new power of -vision to reach to the uttermost end of the earth; the eye imparts to -the soul its larger horizon, and a great leap of joy carries the spirit -into the infinite room of creation, into the infinite grandeur of -created things, and the spirit grows and feels its small estimate of -God's earth expanding into a newer, grander conception of creation. -Mountain ridges sweep through tremendous space, one upon another, and at -their base, thousands of feet below, a green pillow of sugar-cane -invites the head and heart to quiescence. No word "green" can ever bring -back the quivering, transparent green of those young cane-fields, far -below in the valleys, watered by the careful hand of man in thousands -of tiny streams of irrigation. - - -VI. - -The morning was just what it should be in spite of the croakers, and the -immensity of nature had imparted to our spirits much of her buoyancy; so -when the train came to a halt, we jumped with alacrity from the little -coach, and sought among the people for the human interest, which was as -ever very great. The route was dotted with charming stations, each one -flying a German and Venezuelan flag in delightful amity--for the Germans -impress the South American first with their greatness and then with -their friendliness; the mailed hand is shown only as the last resort. - -Here were stations green and beflowered, in sweet good order, with -fountains and running streams, and booths where we bought ginger cookies -and Albert biscuit and _cervesa Inglesa_ and all sorts of fruit; and -back of the stations, hints of quaint old churches with distant bells, -and gathering about the mother church, blue and white and yellow -glimpses of queer old houses. And oh! the colour! The flowering trees! -What artist could ever reach the delicacy of the _Maria_ tree, one mass -of living pearls. Its branches so full of flower that there seemed to be -no room for leaf; the branch only there by sufferance. At La Victoria, -where we stop for luncheon, in a curious little cafe under a confident -German flag, our family interpreter disappears, and in a few minutes -returns in the likeness of a Thracian god, bedecked with garlands, pink -and white. He covers my lap with rarest blossoms, gives them to one and -all, and brings into the dusty coach a fragrance of Elysium. I long to -keep the flowers for ever; I long to hold that colour in such security -that it can never escape; I long to enclose that essence in some secret -shrine for ever. And shall I say I have not? - - -VII. - -As we rush along down, nearing the Great Mother's mighty limbs, we pass -drooping arbours of _Bucari_, another flowering tree of wonderful -splendour, each flower like a glorious wax _Cattleya_, and millions of -them at a glance. Just then, as the blaze of beauty dazzles our eyes, -two brilliantly green parrots, frightened by the noisy interloper, take -flight from under their beauteous canopy, and wing their way in yellow, -green, and red vibrations through the scintillating landscape. We are -now flying along on a level stretch, in a high, rich valley, full of -luscious fruits and ripening harvests, and before the mountain opens to -receive us into one of its deep tunnels, we see large fields of a low -bush, growing quite in the nature of young coffee, with much the same -size and general appearance; without, however, the customary -shade-trees. Our friend from Colombo explained that it is tapioca; and -off beyond, in this next, white-walled _hacienda_ (what a world of -dreams and romance of the land of _siempre manana_ comes to one in that -combination of ordinary vowels and consonants--"_hacienda_"!), in the -_Hacienda Las Palomas_,--or was it the _Hacienda La Sierra_ or _La -Mata_, or _Guaracarima_?--the natives gather from the green river -valleys, maize and beans and yucca, in the language of the country, -"_frutas menores_;" but more abundantly than all else, are gathered the -coffee and the sugar in vast crops year by year. - -Westward from the summit the River Tuy plays hide-and-seek with us for -many a mile, darting, hurrying, beckoning, charming us, with a desire to -loiter when she loiters, to leap through the cliffs with her joy, to -rest under flower-spread arbours in sleepy towns with her, to dissolve -ourselves at last into the deep earth as she does. Finally we see her no -more, but now the larger Aragua, flowing toward the Lake of Valencia, -reaches out a bold hand, and we follow the new pathfinder where she -commands. - -One last look into the shadowy depths before we drop to the plains. It -is only a glimpse, for the passing is so swift that the eye cannot reach -its entirety of beauty; but that glimpse is like the shadow of a great -rock,--a lasting memory. A bird slowly sways in mighty, circling sweeps, -poised upon the ether, between two green-robed mountain priests--a great -bird against the hazy mountain deep, swaying, calm, eternally sure of -its strength. Was there a hand outstretched beneath in the far, -disappearing morning which brought the ecstasy into the soul of that -lonely wanderer? - -We leave the tunnels, the endless bridges, the heights, and drop down -rapidly into the valley, where the heat begins and the dust flies. We -follow the Aragua until she brings us to the Lake of Valencia, a long, -rambling, shallow lake, much like some of our own Northern lakes, and, -at the first opportunity (I think it was at Maracay), we leave the -train, and stand under the wide doors of the freight depot, with the -natives lying around half-asleep on sacks of coffee, and try to catch a -whiff of refreshing coolness from the lake. More German flags; they are -very interesting, but why should a party of Americans be so honoured? -For the German officers had gone back to the ship to do the polite to -General Castro. But the halt here was for a few minutes only; and we go -on, down through the hot little city of Valencia into greater heat, and -for a time into greater and more glorious vegetation. - -It was a curious sight,--the piles of compressed coal dust made into -blocks,--"briquettes,"--eight to ten inches square, each stamped -"Cardiff, Wales," piled in high, orderly heaps at each station; greater -supplies of which we found, as we left the timber for the low country. -But I must not give the impression that the low country is untimbered; -far from it. As we leave the higher levels and start the final sharp -descent toward the coast on the cog-road,--a curious device in -railroading to overcome the danger of such steep inclines,--we can give -no conception of the forest growth through which we pass. The air is hot -and still; the trees stand in their eternal beauty, in their myriads of -blossoms, in their vivid colourings, with deep festoons of moss and -interweaving vines in motionless repose. They seem to exhale heat and -silence and darkness, even under the blaze of a still, white sun; they -tell only of night in the tangled growth of nature triumphant. It might -have been at Nagua-Nagua, if not there it was very near there, that the -springs of water, boiling out of the earth, were hot and sulphurous, -and, as we were about to move on in our roomy coach, along came the -much-talked of Special, with its crowded passengers looking jaded and -worn and cross, more, I imagine, from the incessant clatter of tongues -than from the asperity of the Southern sun. On, on, nearer to the sea, -to where the palms grow. There had been cocoanut and royal palms -before,--yes, from Haiti through all the islands we had seen them, but -here they attain their most perfect grandeur and glory. We came upon -them not singly, in isolated groups of conservative aristocracy, but in -companies and regiments, miles of them, arranged by the masterful hand -of Nature, now in mighty groups apart, like a conference of plumed -generals, and then again in battalions of tall grenadiers on silent -dress parade. Their light lofty trunks gave back from the sun a dull, -grayish white pallor. They were still and grand, and unspeakably -beautiful. - -The heat seems to grow more intense as the sun sinks lower in the -heavens, and we drop down almost to the level of the ocean. The dust -becomes more blinding, and the palms disappear, and all things prickly -and unapproachably dry and forbidding, shadeless and impenetrable, take -their place, and change the picture from one of tropical life to -tropical death. - -[Illustration: A SOUTH AMERICAN STREET - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Long wastes of white sand spread over the desolate landscape, relieved -by not one sprig of comely green or welcome shade, with great mounds and -masses of gigantic and distorted cacti, more impassable than any -man-made barricade. They fitted in well with the heat and the dust, and -the long, low sun-rays, shooting in upon us their streaming floods of -white light; and then, just as I began to think the croakers might have -been right for once--there came a shout from the Doctor, from the Boston -friend, from us all; and Daddy, who was on the other side of the car, -jumps over to my seat and bends over my shoulder just in time to catch -sight of the sea--_el Mar Caribe_--before a bristling bank of cacti shut -it for the time from view. The Caribbean Sea--blue, far-reaching, -sweetly cool, washing the feet of the great, good Mother;--we longed to -plunge into the surf, and wash away the dust and heat and all unrest. -The sight of the great sea so near us, and our trim ship at anchor in -the harbour of Puerto Cabello, and the prospect of seeing the little -girls, from whom we had been separated by so many hours and miles, gives -us a deep joy. The day had been covered by the hand of God from dawn to -setting, and to the end of time there shall no greater beauty meet our -souls. - -Then through the sleepy streets of hot old Puerto Cabello we wander to -where a boat waits us by the rotting quay at the river's mouth. Two -darling faces find our wistful searchings as we near the ship, and four -sweet arms accompanied by kisses fairly weigh us down as we reach the -deck. - -"Oh, Mother! Just think of it, we shook hands with President Castro!" - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -CURACAO. CITY OF WILLEMSTAD - - -I. - -Small wonder indeed that the early explorers, the men to whom we owe the -discovery of these island gems, gave them such charmingly poetical -names. Small wonder that they named them as one would a necklace of -deep-sea pearls, strung as they are one upon another in a circlet about -the blue Caribbean Sea, the shadow of one velvety peak throwing its dark -coolness fairly to the base of sister isles, some but a few hours -distant, others perhaps a day, across seas as blue and green and limpid -as the ether above. It seems incredible that from these peaceful waters -rise the vast, cyclonic storms which frequently make such desolation on -our coasts; and that within the green and softly moulded outlines of -some of these mountainous islands there lie volcanic craters which -still grumble and threaten; but, as there are times and seasons for all -things, so there seems to be an ordering for the giant winds to rage, -when the sun is dyed its deepest, and the earth pants for want of drink -to moisten her quivering lips. But that time of unrest is far away now, -and, as we leave Puerto Cabello and its quiet harbour, bound for -Curacao, and drop below the horizon the cocoanut-fringed shores of the -Spanish Main, it seems as if it must ever be on unruffled seas and -toward peaceful havens that the islanders voyage back and forth. - -Surely it is not more than the turning once over in sleep before, with -the morning breeze fresh in our nostrils, we are right upon the dear -little Dutch city of Willemstad, the capital of the Dutch West Indies on -the island of Curacao; and, once ashore, we long to lodge indefinitely -behind the spotless white curtains that peek out from under some snug -little peaked roof, shifting scenes only when the impulse to go farther -comes over us; and then sailing away in one of the little packet -schooners which coast along from island to island, or possibly, taking -passage in a mail steamer, or anything bound anywhere, just so it does -not come blundering along before we are ready. - -There should be no words for days and hours in the tropics. Time should -be measured by enjoyments in changeful measure, slow and fast, as one's -mood demands. Rigid hours are obtrusive where the rustle of the -cocoa-palm invites rest. - - -II. - -The little girls and I are hurrying into our hair ribbons and our white -petticoats and white waists and white hats, just as fast as our fingers -can tie or button, when Curacao jumps into our cabin windows, or maybe -our ship has jumped into Curacao; or is it Holland we have dropped upon, -or is it a new stage-setting for the latest _al fresco_ production of -"The Flying Dutchman?" - -We no sooner have our first glimpse than, for a bit, all the dressing -stops, and we crowd our three heads up to the port-holes in perfect -delight. As our slim ship slowly winds herself into the river-like -harbour, this West Indian Holland becomes more and more enchanting. The -harbours in these islands have been an increasing wonder to us. On the -Venezuelan coast Puerto Cabello (translated literally, "The Port of the -Hair," because there it was said a hair would hold a ship) is a perfect -example of a harbour for small vessels. Deep, natural channels--like -rivers--wind circuitously until they widen into land-locked basins where -ships of all nations, and of all rigs, and for all purposes, from the -grim war-ship to the native dugout, come unexpectedly into sight as the -channel turns and broadens into the real harbour. There the ship is left -by the native pilot. - -This harbour of Curacao is no exception. We enter by a narrow, deep way -protected by rocky barriers, directly into a little inner bay, encircled -by the quaint town. The houses gliding by, within easy hailing distance -of our decks, are preeminently Dutch, of brilliant, striking colouring, -noticeably yellow, and mathematically exact as to rows and heights and -proportions--most un-West-Indian. The town is certainly just recovering -from a fresh coat of kalsomine. It is bright as a top and clean as a -whistle. - -[Illustration: ACROSS STE. ANNE BAY - -Harbour of Willemstad, Curacao - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -We are but a stone's throw from either dock, and it requires a lot of -common sense, even downright logic, to persuade us that we are in the -Caribbean Sea, and not far off on the other side of the globe coming out -of the flat estuaries of the bleak North Sea into the Meuse or the Y. - -A bit of Holland has been lost from out Mother Earth's pocket, and has -fallen by the way in this Western Hemisphere; and it has managed to get -along without the big Dutch mother very well. It has grown up into full -stature, following the instincts of its birth, almost wholly -uninfluenced by tropical environment. Here it stands, a perfect little -Dutchman, an exact reproduction of its staunch progenitors. Its forms -and habits have followed the traditions of its ancestors, not those of -its West Indian foster-mother. There is only one racial trait lacking in -Curacao,--we saw no windmills; all the rest is there. But, to our great -relief, we are told that even the windmills appear on the country places -farther inland. - - -III. - -The arrival of our ship awakens the Yellow City early in the morning, -and, before our boats are lowered, the shore is white with crowds of -Curacaoans, big and little, pushing and jostling each other for a sight -of us. Our breakfast is done with in short order. A hurried bit of -fruit, a quick swallow of boiling coffee, a fresh roll, and up we -scramble to the deck. So it is invariably, as we near a port. Each time -we come upon an island more curious, more irresistible than any we have -seen before. We may be sighting it first as we refresh our bodies with a -bath of the clear salt water from without, warmed into the most -delicious mildness by the eternal smile of the sun. Then comes a -scramble to dress, then a bolt to the dining-room, where we eat and run. -Now, in pops a big "if." If we were only snoozing in a Dutch -four-poster, with a frilled nightcap on, under a peaked roof in -Willemstad, then we'd never need to hurry, for all we'd have to do would -be to open our eyes and look around, and wait for the coffee to come -with a rap at the door and a lifting of the curtain. But there is small -comfort in listening to the endless schemes of that miscreant "if." -We'll banish him in disgrace. - -[Illustration: SOME OF OUR FRIENDS AT WILLEMSTAD] - -[Illustration: WHERE THE BASKET-WOMEN WAITED - -Willemstad, Curacao] - -Before we have time to readjust our impressions of one island to -the anticipated pleasures of the one following, we are among a new -people, speaking a strange tongue, living to us a new life,--to them a -weather-worn old life; among people in densely populated cities, shut -off from our world by weeks--at times by months--of silent isolation. - -Then all at once a fleck of smoke lifts above the horizon, a steamer is -sighted far out at sea, the pilot puts out in his little open boat, and -the whole island throbs with new emotion, for a ship is coming! - -From a poetical standpoint, I wish it were possible to believe that this -emotion is a disinterested pleasure in welcoming strangers; in feeling -once again the hand of man from the great world outside. Viewing the -people, as we must, largely from an impersonal standpoint, it impressed -us that the West Indian cares very little for the welcome or for the -hand of man from the great continent; but that he is up early in the -morning to devise new ways of reaching the pockets of the invaders, come -they ever so peaceably. - -The natives await the coming of strangers, as a pack of hungry wolves -watch for the shorn lamb. I myself have been that shorn lamb on several -occasions. - -[Illustration: THE LANDING - -Willemstad, Curacao] - -Quite undaunted by the great crowd of Curacaoans on shore, our jackies -made a cable fast to the near-lying quay, by which means our big boats -are pulled back and forth, to and from the ship. Those coming to us -bring the sellers of baskets; and it is here, although forewarned and -forearmed, that our basket mania again breaks forth in full force. First -came the famous Curacaoan nests of baskets, of which Charles Kingsley -confesses to have been beguiled into buying; and, if so wise a man as he -fell victim to the wiles of the Curacaoan basket-woman, how much more -readily would we weaker mortals become her prey? Then, ranged -temptingly, along the dock stood rows of Curacaoan hampers,--great, -fine, coloured affairs, which we looked at, and looked at, and looked -at, and didn't buy. Then, beside the basket-women, were the men with -fans and all sorts of straw weavings,--and then, oh! the work-boxes. -Truly, you have seen them! Has not your grandmother stowed away in -the dark attic somewhere an old mahogany box, inlaid with ivory and -brass and coloured woods, with fascinating secret drawers and numerous -lids for the hiding of her precious keepsakes and age-worn trinkets? -Such a box is one of the chaste memories of my childhood,--Grandmother's -mahogany box, with the inlaid lid and the musty odour of bygone years. -When we found these same dear old boxes away down in Curacao, the worn, -hingeless, forsaken chest in the attic arose into a new dignity--into -the dignity of a noble family lineage. So I have found at last its -_habitat_, and these bright and gleaming creations are great-great--and -no end to great--grandchildren of my far-away, lonely relic in the -attic. But sentiment has to give way to reason, and we shake our heads -at the box-man and the hamper-woman, who, nevertheless, follow us up to -the bridge from the Otra-Banda shore over the canal, whence they watch -dejectedly while we pay bridge-toll and disappear across the canal into -the narrow Dutch streets, where the high roofs seem ready to topple over -upon us. - - -IV. - -What a picture of Dutch colonial life comes to us in that short walk! -The overreaching eaves all but touch. Old lanterns swing across the -narrow way, wrought-iron sign-posts reach long arms out over our heads, -the shop doors are wide open, and the keepers of the shops could readily -shake hands across the way. - -I wonder if there is any excuse at all for the fact that my preconceived -ideas about Curacao were wholly founded upon a very indistinct memory of -a certain liquid of that name, said to be distilled upon this island -from the wild sour orange? I expected to find this ambrosial nectar -stacked in rows in every shop, in bottles, long and slim, chunky, dumpy, -and round; in nice little flat bottles,--gifts for bachelor friends; in -ornamented fancy bottles for envying housewives; in thick, pudgy, -squatty bottles for gouty old uncles; in every conceivable shape and -size I expected to find it. - -Willemstad was not to be Willemstad--city, town, burg--it was to be an -inhabited flask of curacao, a kind of West Indian bubble blown from the -lips of the Northeast Trades, sweet with the breath of wild orange. The -man with the bottles was to be a more subtle tempter than the -hamper-woman, and--but it didn't happen that way at all. It turned out -very differently. - -I, for one, did not see a single bottle of any shape or form in the -whole town, but the men must have found some, for just before sailing a -box was brought in, labelled "Curacao," and I surmised it was liqueur, -but I didn't open the box. Truly I did not! - -Some of us cynically argued that the liqueur was all sent in from -somewhere else and palmed off as a native product; others clung to the -home-production fancy, and yet neither one was altogether wrong, for the -famous liqueur is made both in Holland and in this little Dutch colony -away off in the New World; at any rate this is its birthplace and home. - -But the gold filigree, for which the islanders are famous, was true to -our expectations. We are drawn up the shut-in street by the magnetism of -a crowd which is gathering about a shop-door, and filling the tiny place -fairly to suffocation with eager buyers of gold rings and pins, and all -sorts of trinkets. - -We turn from the goldsmith and the seller of corals, and the shops, and -make for the tram,--a little, two-seated bandbox on wheels, drawn by a -two-penny mule on a tiny track through the clean white streets of -Curacao. We are told that there is a law against the painting of the -houses white, on account of the blinding glare of the sun, and no -wonder, for, even after a few short hours of wandering, our eyes ache -with the strain and glare of so great light. The blue houses are an -exquisite rest to the eye. The whole colour scheme of Curacao is yellow -and blue, and sometimes light green, with white used sparingly as -decoration. Green, the green of trees and grass, you ask? No. I said -nothing of the green of nature. It's too thoroughly Dutch for that. - -The bandbox car hitches along, threatening to topple over any minute on -the toy donkey and stop,--at least until sundown, which would be most -sensible. Let's cover up the donkey and get out of the glare until -night! But, no! He has his own ideas, and experience has taught us the -futility of an attempt to change them, so we settle down to the -succession of yellow houses and blue houses, and white pillars and clean -flights of white steps, but hardly a peep of green, not a sprig of palm, -or tamarind, or orange, not a vestige of the great fundamental -nature-colour--except in a well-concealed little park--everything paved -and finished and whitewashed--only a few prim and well-pruned shrubs -carefully set in either corner of the tiny front yards, and our eyes -ache for the sight of trees and grass. Where the wild orange grows, we -failed to discover, for the town itself is almost entirely bare of trees -or flowers. Of course, it must be remembered that our very short stay -made any long excursion into the country out of the question. Let us -come again; we must find the wild oranges! - -Strange, is it not? No shade whatever in latitudes where the growing of -great vegetation is but the matter of a few months. As far as we could -see, there were no real trees in Willemstad; still, if palms do not grow -in Holland, whatever would be the sense in having them here? They would -spoil the likeness. - -So we jerk our hats down, readjust the dark glasses, tuck our -handkerchiefs under our collars, and start up a breeze with a Curacaoan -fan, and decide to play "Jack-in-the-box" and jump out; primarily, to -make straight for our ship to escape the midday sun; secondarily, to -take one very impressionable member of our party away from the alarming -charms of a stunning Curacaoan woman--a woman of that noble and grandly -developed type which often appears in the descendants of the -Dutch--whose comely form occupies a goodly share of the bandbox seat. - -The streets in this residence part of the city are still and empty. The -penny donkey and "we'uns" are the only live things visible. We are -seized with a desire to pound on those eternally closed doorways to see -if people really do live there. This seeing things on the outside is no -fun. Let's make a sensation of some kind! Upset the bandbox, roll the -plump lady in a heap inside; put on the cover; stand the penny donkey on -top; capture some Curacaoan hampers, jump inside, pull down the lid and -play forty thieves. - -[Illustration: A JOLLY DUTCH PORT - -Willemstad, Curacao] - -But, no,--we are sworn foes to scenes, and our vain wish to pinch -somebody dies unsatisfied; and finally, when the penny donkey comes to -the end of the route down by the quay, we take the longest way around, -through the narrow thoroughfares, following the curve of the shore, over -bridges which span the canals leading from the main channel of the -harbour, down past the basket-woman with her tempting wares on the -Otra-Banda quay to our floating home, where the governor and all the -prominent citizens of Willemstad have assembled in great numbers. - -Well, we've found out one thing. The houses were empty sure enough. The -people are all on our ship. What a good thing it was we left the bandbox -right side up! There would have been no one to rescue the plump lady. - - -V. - -Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. U----, come toward us with a group of -strangers--Curacaoan--whose acquaintance happened just as the best -things of life come to us--by the merest chance. They were driving about -the city in company with the American consul, when, in passing one of -the most attractive residences, their attention was drawn toward two -young women who were standing out on the veranda, waving a great -flag--our Stars and Stripes--in utter disregard of heat and sun; waving -it forth in the yellow and white glare with all the love of country and -home which motion could express. Their enthusiasm at once called forth a -response on the part of the visitors; the carriage stopped and forthwith -all the occupants of the house, following the two girls with the flag, -came to welcome the strangers. The newcomers were bidden to enter and -there was no limit to their hospitable entertainment. - -The flag-bearers were two homesick Southern girls, married to the sons -of a leading Dutch family. They had not visited their native land since -their marriage, and, oh! how they longed to see the dear old South -again! When their countrymen set foot at Curacao, all of the slumbering -mother-country love broke forth again, and the old flag came out, and -they feasted the strangers, and did their utmost to honour the precious -sentiment of loyalty to home. And, after the ices and cooling drinks and -fruits and confections, they and their friends were invited aboard -ship, where it was our pleasure to make their acquaintance. - -We find here, as we have in all the other islands, that the leading -families--the men in power--are comparatively pure representatives of -the original colonising stock; that is, pure Dutch, Dane, Castilian, -French, as the case may be; but that the people are a strange mixture of -all nationalities, speaking languages for the most part unwritten, -handed down from generation to generation by word of mouth, strangely -intangible, and yet as fixed and well recognised among the people as is -the old Common Law in the courts of Anglo-Saxon countries. Our friends -in Curacao tell us that the well-born natives speak Dutch, English, -Spanish, and often French, with equal facility; added to this is another -language which must be learned in order to deal with the common people. - -This curious language--"_Papaimiento_," it is called--has been reduced -to a certain degree of form in order to facilitate its being taught in -the schools. Children learn this language from their nurses, just as our -Southern children acquire the negro dialect from the old "mammies." The -comparison cannot be carried out to its full extent for the reason that, -while our negro dialect bears a close and intelligible likeness to -English, _Papaimiento_ is so unlike Dutch as to render its acquisition -almost as difficult for a Dutchman as that of any other foreign -language, but fortunately the Dutch are good linguists. It bears, of -course, some likeness to Dutch in the fundamentals, but aside from that, -it is a strange combination of speech--perhaps more Spanish than -anything else--put together, it would seem, to meet the needs of as many -people as possible. The meaning of the name _Papaimiento_ is, in the -dialect, "The talk we talk," _i. e._, "our language." - -Curacao lies some fifty miles off the coast of South America, and her -favourable position between Venezuela and the Windward Islands has made -her free port a most desirable one for the smugglers who wish to supply -cheap goods to the South American ports. Thousands of flimsy tin-covered -trunks ready for Venezuelan voyagers bear evidence of her popularity as -a free and unquestioning port. Here, also, many steamers touch. But, -above all, Curacao is the haunt and refuge of the disappointed or -temporarily exiled Spanish American politician or revolutionist. - -Here, like puppets in a show, appear from time to time many noble -patriots ready to fight for their undying principles and incidentally to -absorb any loose property in the track of their conquering "armies;" and -here hies the deposed "President," or the lately conquered general, with -his chests of treasure, waiting for a ship to his beloved Paris. Watch -our own American newspapers for the warlike notes that Willemstad, -Curacao, ever feeling the pulse of northern South America, sends out to -the world. Did she not give us the earliest news of Cervera's mysterious -fleet? Does she not thrill us with the momentous gymnastics of President -Castro, and the blood-curdling intentions of General Matos, General -Uribe-Uribe, General Santiago O'Flanigan _et hoc genus omne_? - -The date of our visit to Curacao is about the time of the little Queen -of Holland's wedding, so that Wilhelmina and her prospects, and all the -gossip attending so charming a personage, becomes with us, as we sit -chatting together on the deck, a lively topic of interest. Mrs. C---- -tells us of a gold box which is to be sent the young queen as a bridal -gift from her subjects in Curacao; a box fashioned after the most -perfect art of the native goldsmith, in filigree so rare that none but a -queen were fit to open it. This box, perchance the size of Pandora's -once enchanted casket, is to be filled with the needlework of Curacaoan -women--work as far-famed as the lace of Maracaibo, the lace we expected -to see everywhere in Caracas, while we were then so near the Maracaibo -country, but which one can never find unless the open-sesame of the -Spanish home is discovered, as impossible a task as the quest of the -immortal Ponce de Leon. We did not see the Maracaibo lace, nor the -Curacaoan lace, and we are told that such a disappointment is not -unusual; it is only for the elect--the Curacaoan people themselves--that -these wonderful specimens of the skill of patient women are visible. - -I shall never forget hearing that unwritten page in the tragic history -of Spain's noble son, Admiral Cervera, as the Doctor in his quiet, low -voice told how the great admiral touched first at Curacao after his -long and perilous voyage from Spain. It was the Doctor's son who sent -the cable message to the United States, telling that the Spanish fleet -was in the offing. But it was the Doctor himself who went with the -surgeons who had been sent ashore by Cervera on their humiliating -errand, to all the pharmacies in Curacao for surgical supplies. The -fleet had been hurried from Spain unprepared, and in fact almost -unseaworthy, with not so much as a single bandage aboard or the most -ordinary necessities for the immediate succour of the wounded. They had -absolutely nothing in the way of such medical and surgical equipment at -hand, although they knew their imminent and terrible need for just such -things. Doctor C----, with the true physician's love for his fellow men, -went from pharmacy to pharmacy with the surgeon, and bought up all the -bandages and gauze and iodoform and other supplies which were to be -found. Meantime detachments from the ships' crews began to land--hungry -and worn, sad with the shadow of the great coming tragedy--and they fell -upon the island like a lot of starved wolves. They actually had not -food enough aboard to keep body and soul together, for the corrupt and -procrastinating government at Madrid had not even properly victualled -this fleet of war-ships before sending them to their certain -destruction. The market was cleaned of everything it could afford, and -even then it was a mere drop in the bucket to that unhappy host. Later -Doctor C---- went out to the flag-ship with the surgeon, and spoke with -Cervera, who prophetically told him that he knew he was going to his -doom--but it had to be! And the twisted skeletons of those noble ships -which we later saw strewn from Santiago on along the southern Cuban -coast was but the fulfilment of the miserable fate he then so clearly -foresaw, but which, after his unavailing pleas to the Spanish government -before sailing, the staunch old admiral, with a Spaniard's pride and -bravery, would not avoid. For so it was written! Is there not a strain -of the Moor's fatalism still traceable in the true Spaniard? - -Thus as we chat with our new-found friends on topics grave and gay -through the noon hour and on into mid-afternoon, the people of the city -continue to crowd one another, row upon row, on the dock. A native band -plays our national airs and Dutch national airs, and our decks are -filled with visitors--the governor of the island and his suite and -ladies, and fine little solemn-eyed and suspiciously dark-skinned Dutch -children; and, in the midst of all the visiting and moving back and -forth, some one asks Doctor W---- how the islanders feel about -absorption by the United States--apparently a possibility now present in -the mind of every West Indian; and the not surprising answer is made, -that, for his part, he--a Dutchman, Holland-born--would favour -annexation; and from the wild enthusiasm of the people ashore, as the -bugle sounds the first warning of departure, one might readily believe -that so favourable, so friendly, is the feeling for the United States, -that the slightest advances toward peaceable annexation would be met -with universal favour. And so the merchants also talked. - -The houses begin to move,--no, it's our boat herself, slowly, very -slowly. We drop our shore-lines, and shout after shout rings after us. -The populace moves in a mass along the quay, and the native band beats -away its very loudest, and the bigger marine band aboard beats even -louder, and it's a jumble of national airs in different keys, and -hurrahs, and the people following along the quay. We wave our -handkerchiefs until our arms are tired. One black-faced, bandannaed, -Dutch conglomerate in her enthusiasm whips off her bright skirt, and in -a white petticoat and red chemise she waves the fluttering skirt in the -breeze. - -If the United States ever seriously contemplates the annexation of any -of the West Indian islands, the surest way, and the quickest way, to -bring it about would be to send ship-loads of pleasure-seeking -Americans, for bimonthly visits, leave their mania for buying things -unrestrained, and, before diplomacy has had time to put on its dress -suit, the islanders would beg for annexation. - -[Illustration: A SNUG HARBOUR - -Willemstad, Curacao] - -Do not deceive yourself into the belief that you will find El Dorado in -these islands, where the products of the country, food, and lodging, can -be bought for a song; where one can get full value for money expended. -On the contrary, values have become so distorted by the extravagance of -some American tourists that to be recognised as an American is a -signal for the most extortionate demands from the hotel-keeper to the -market-woman. The system of extravagant feeing and still more our -readiness to pay what is asked us instead of bargaining and haggling -over prices as the natives do, and as is confidently expected of any -sane human being, has so demoralised service and the native scale of -prices that it is fairly impossible to obtain the ordinary necessities -for which one expects to pay in the hotel bill, without giving -needlessly large fees to the servants who happen to be in your -attendance; or to find anything offered at a reasonable price in the -markets. - -At the sight of an American--and we are readily distinguished--the -prices advance, and the unoffending tourist is obliged to suffer for the -extravagance of those who have gone before him. This infection has -spread through all the islands, and there has not been a port on our -entire cruise wholly free from its effect. Perhaps, however, Willemstad -was the pleasantest of all in this respect, for it is a free port, used -to low prices and the ways of outsiders. - -It might be possible to go through the islands at a reasonable expense, -provided one spoke the language necessary at the various ports with -ease, and had the time and patience to bargain and shop indefinitely; -provided, _also_, one could beat against the tide which sweeps the -American toward the "Gran Hotel." Let him but once depart from his -ancestral traditions of simple habits, let him but enter the portico of -the "Gran Hotel," and he at once becomes the prey of every known species -of human vulture. It is the old story of Continental Europe over again. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THE SOUTHERN CROSS - - -"Wake up! Wake up! If you want to see the Southern Cross, wake up and -come on deck!" And we remember how long we had been waiting for those -wonderful stars, and how Daddy, who many nights slept on deck, had told -us that he often saw them, and how we had, night after night, vowed we -would make the effort to awaken at two in the morning, and how, each -night, we had slept along, too tired with the wonder days to move an -inch until bugle-call. - -But here comes this far-off voice again calling us from the Northland of -dreams, and it seems to be saying, "This is your last chance. By -to-morrow (whenever that uncertainty comes!) the stars will have rolled -away, or you will have sailed along, and there will be no Southern -Cross, and you may as well not have come away down here to the Spanish -Main at all if you miss seeing it,"--and then we wake a bit more, and -the figure in the doorway stands there with "come" on his face, and -"wake up!" on his lips, and we try to think how sorry we shall be if we -do not see the Southern Cross. And then the door closes with a rather -contemptuous click, and we land in the middle of the floor, aroused by -the disappearance of the figure in pajamas and by our somewhat -reawakened sense of duty. - -Throwing on light wrappers, the little girls stumble along after me to -where our man stands leaning against the rail, his face turned skyward. - -"There it is--see? Right in the south, directly opposite the Great Bear -that sunk below the northern horizon two hours ago. One star down quite -low, near the horizon, and one almost in a straight line above, and one -at either side equal distances apart, like an old four-cornered kite. -You must imagine the cross. But it's hardly what it's cracked up to be!" -And we blink at the stars, and they blink at us, and we feel strangely -unreal and turned about. - -What in all the world has the Southern Cross to do with the nineteenth -century? It belongs to Blackbeard, and the great procession of pirates -and roving buccaneers who swept these seas in tall-sparred, black-hulled -craft, some hundreds of years ago. One or the other of us is out of -place. The only consistent part of the night is, that, while our eyes -are searching for the four luminous dots in the Southern Cross, our ship -is plunging on toward Jamaica, that one-time Mecca of the bandit rover -of the sea. There he found safe harbour and friends in the same -profession; there it was that the hoards of Spanish gold and plate and -all conceivable sorts of plunder, taken from the hapless merchantmen, -were bought and sold and gambled away. But, without the accompaniment of -roystering pirates and swaggering buccaneers, the Southern Cross seems -out of joint. Jamaica may do as she is, but, as we look out across the -scurrying waters, there's a malicious twinkle to the top star in the -Southern Cross and that makes us all the more determined to give it an -opportunity to renew old acquaintance. We'll have a pirate--we must have -a pirate, if not a real one, bloody and black and altogether -fascinating, we must conjure one by magic! Pirates there must be! So, to -pacify our insatiable desire to resuscitate the ghostly heroes of the -long-dead past, the Spanish Student offers a yarn. - -Four bells of the second night watch rings out, and "All's well!" floats -above our heads, and the witching hour of two in the morning brings the -proper flavour to the story. We cuddle down on some stray ship chairs, -and the story begins: - -"Once upon a time--" - -"Oh, dear! Is it to be a 'once upon a time' story, Dad? Then it won't be -real," breaks in the Wee One. - -"Yes, it is real, Chick; at least, so far as I know. But you must not -interrupt me again. If you do, I might forget, and then the Cross up -there would put out its lights and go to bed." - -"No, Dad, I'll be good." - -"Well, once upon a time, there was a doughty old French Corsair, who was -one of the most daring pirates on the Spanish Main. Morals were in a -topsyturvy state in those days, and in none were they more -wrong-side-to than in this famous old Frenchman. He had a long, low, -topsail schooner, painted black, with sharp clipper stem, clean flush -decks and tall and raking masts, and--" - -"I know all about him, Dad. He had a black beard, and he used to braid -it in lots of pigtails, and tie it with ribbons," says Wee One, again. - -"Now, Toddlekins, what did I say? I shall certainly bundle you off to -bed. No, it wasn't Blackbeard, but it was a pirate just as fierce and -fully as bad mannered. This old fellow had been rampaging around here, -there, and everywhere, all about this Caribbean Sea and along the -Spanish Main, in search of ships and gold and prisoners, and -occasionally even food, and in fact anything of value he might come -across; when not very far from where we are now--yes, just about this -latitude, it was, but a few leagues more to the west--by the light of -the stars--yes, by the light of this very Southern Cross, he makes out -the land, and soon after spies a tidy, prosperous little village handy -to the shore of a palm-fringed inlet. Like the provident pirate that he -was, he at once decides that he is both hungry and thirsty and that his -lusty followers are short of rations. Here is a likely port from which -to supply. - -"So off goes a long-boat filled with his precious cutthroats, carrying a -pressing invitation to the village priest and some of his friends to -come aboard. The fat priest is routed out and escorted to the waiting -boat; he understands his mission, he has seen such men before. So, -taking along a few chosen friends, he makes the best of a bad business -and is rowed off to the ship in short order. The citizens, meanwhile, -are requisitioned for all sorts of food and drink, and the priest and -his friends have a jolly time of it as hostages. But as his wit grows -with the wine it occurs to our Corsair that, with a priest aboard, Holy -Church should have due reverence, and roars out his imperative -suggestion that mass would be in order. An altar is rigged up on the -quarter-deck, holy vestments and vessels are quickly brought from the -village church, and the ship's crew are summoned to assemble and warned -to take hearty part in the service. In place of music, broadsides are -ordered fired from the pirate's cannon after the _Credo_, after the -_Elevation_, and after the _Benediction_. At the _Elevation of the -Host_, the captain finds occasion to reprove a sailor for lack of -reverence. But at a second offence from the same trifler, out comes his -cutlass--a swift, shining circle follows the Corsair's blade, and off -flies the still grinning head and the blood spirts high from the jumping -trunk. The poor priest is startled, but the captain reassures him with -kind words, for, says he, it is only his duty and always his pleasure to -protect the sanctity of holy things; he would do the same thing -again--and a thousand times!--to any one who was disrespectful to the -Holy Sacrament. For why is there a great God above and his Holy Church -on earth except to be honoured? Then the service continues as if nothing -had happened and again comes the whine of the Latin chants and the -thunder of the reverent guns. - -"After mass, the body is heaved overboard and no burial rites are said, -for who shall try to save a heretic's soul? The priest is put ashore -with many a smile and oath and many a pious crossing, and our Corsair -and his pack of thieves go their way, having paid their respects to -Holy Church." - -"Oh, Dad!" says Toddlekins, "that was lovely; is it true? Tell us -another! Just one more! Don't you remember about Captain Kidd? - - "'My name was Captain Kidd, as I sailed, as I sailed, - My name was Robert Kidd, as I sailed. - My name was Robert Kidd, - God's laws I did forbid, - And wickedly I did, as I sailed.' - -"Don't you remember the other verses? You used to sing them to us on the -yacht before we ever thought of seeing the real Southern Cross." - -And just as the indulgent parent begins to waver, and the little girls -are sure they have won another story, down--down--down--drops a big -star, the foot of the Cross, millions of miles away, and the three -lonely wanderers still hanging low in the heavens reach out their great -shadowy arms in ghostly warning to those unthinking children of Adam who -defy time and sleep and all things reasonable, just for the sake of a -few old memories of a very questionable past. - -Then those three deserted stars quiver and shiver and hide behind the -wandering company of torch-bearers, and silently disappear, and a tired -moon gives a vague uncertainty to sea and air. - -In spite of the early morning mystery, all our efforts to reinstate the -French Corsair, the black-hulled phantom, and the headless sailor, fail. - -The decks of the ship are damp and empty and long. The ungainly deck -chairs are locked together in gruesome lines like monstrous grasshoppers -dying in winrows, and the great engines below beat and throb, and the -water rolls past us in giant breathings, full of the sighs of dead men -lying fathoms deep beneath our keel, and the stars sink lower and lower, -and we are hurrying on toward the morning. Our eyes are still longing -for sleep, and the little girls flutter down below, and we two after -them. In the morning, after some strange dreams, we lie at anchor off -the Blue Mountains of Jamaica. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -KINGSTON, JAMAICA - - -I. - -Had he not come aboard, it is doubtful if even the "kirk-ganging habit" -inherited from a long line of devout ancestors could have dragged us to -the service. But there was an unforgettable something in his face which -compelled us, in spite of the intense heat, to leave ship by a -shore-boat on Sunday morning and inquire the way to the Parish Church. - -[Illustration: KINGSTON, JAMAICA, FROM THE BAY] - -Shortly after we had dropped anchor in Kingston Harbour, early on -Saturday, we saw the rector of the English Church being rowed through -the crowd of fruit-boats, which were bobbing about us like so many -brilliant birds; but it was with considerable difficulty that he was -finally enabled to reach the ship, so strenuous were the black -fruiterers to give their wares the best possible showing. They were -well worth the showing, too, for such masses and varieties and colours -were a marvel indeed, even in the tropics. The shaddocks were as big as -melons, and the tangerines, measuring some fifteen inches in -circumference, were dyed as deep a yellow as the colour sense could -grasp, and piled in great, heaping baskets, were watched over by -beflowered negresses, who sat motionless in the boats, except for their -great rolling eyes. - -The oranges of Mandeville, Jamaica, were well known to us through the -accounts of former travellers, but no description had ever brought a -suggestion of the true radiance of the Jamaican fruit as it shone forth -that brilliant morning. After one look, the little girls ran down to the -stateroom for the St. Thomas basket, to fill it to the very handle-tip -with luscious tangerines. And while they scampered off with the basket -brimful, the lid pressed back by piles of tender, yellow beauties, a -strange boat-load of new passengers blocked the way once more for the -good priest, and he leaned patiently back in his boat, as if he knew -that to protest would be of no avail. - -The newcomers were two enormous live sea-turtles which the fishermen -hauled up the gangway by a stout cable. The turtles groaned and puffed -and flapped, and the little girls wanted them turned on their legs just -to see what would happen; it would be such fun to ride a-turtle-back. -And Wee One says, "Why, Mother! They are just like 'John the Baptist,' -our pet turtle at home, only lots and lots bigger. I wish they'd turn -over." But the sailors had evidently handled turtles before, for they -were left on their backs and were--after having been duly wondered -at--dragged down the deck out of sight, to reappear again in stew and -_fricassee_, not in steak as the Jamaicans serve them. But Sister -laments. She and Little Blue Ribbons wanted to see the turtles run. -"Mother, if they had only been right side up we could have helped turn -them on their backs just like the 'Foreign Children' Stevenson tells -about,-- - - "'You have seen the scarlet trees - And the lions over seas; - You have eaten ostrich eggs, - And turned the turtles off their legs.'" - -[Illustration: RIO COBRE, NEAR SPANISH TOWN - -Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Meanwhile, as the way clears, the priest reaches the ship, and is soon -lost among the crowd of passengers who are waiting for the first boat -ashore. - -All of Saturday, we wandered about the dusty, uninteresting streets of -Kingston, waiting for the great impression. But it didn't come. We were -ready and willing to admire the beautiful, but it did not appear. -Kingston was even more unattractive than Port of Spain, Trinidad; -dirtier, hotter, and in every way dull and uninteresting. Had it not -been for the Blue Mountains, against which Kingston leans, and the -glorious old Northeast Trades which fan her wayworn features, and for -the sea at her feet, we could not have forgiven her frowsy appearance. -The whole place had a "has been" air, with unkempt streets, and low, -square, dumpy-looking houses, facing each other like tired old tramps. - - -II. - -In order to form a just estimate of the Englishman's work and methods in -Jamaica, one must leave Kingston, and take to the roads outside, for -example that one along the Rio Cobre which winds in and out among the -mountains in a most enchanting course. This particular drive of eleven -miles, called the "Bog Walk Drive," leads to a little settlement called -"Bog Walk." It is to be hoped that there was at one time some excuse for -this name, but as bogs do not disappear in a day, it must have been in -quite a distant past that the name had any real significance. We saw no -suggestion of a Bog Walk, although actively on the alert for it. We had -uncertain anticipations of having to scramble over wet and oozing turf, -and one of us, without saying a word to any one else, tucked a pair of -rubbers into a capacious basket. But the rubbers stayed right there, for -there was no bog, nor any suggestion of one,--funny way these English -have of naming things! - -And speaking of names,--well, there never was a place--except other -English colonial towns--where the good old British custom of naming -houses is more rampant than in Kingston. Had the houses of some -pretension been so labelled, it might not have seemed so strange; but, -no, every little cottage had a name painted somewhere on its gate-post, -and very grandiloquent ones they were, I assure you. No two-penny -affairs for them! There was "Ivy Lodge" and "Myrtle Villa" and -"Ferndale" and "Oakmere" and "The Hall," tacked on to the wobblety -fence-posts of the merest shanties. And yet, in spite of their apparent -incongruity, there was a sort of pitiful fitness in those names. It was -a holding-on, in a crude way, to some half-forgotten ideal of the old -English life. It might have been a memory of the far-away mother -country, left as the only legacy to a Creole generation; it might have -been the last reaching for gentility; who can tell what "The Hall" meant -to the inmates of that shambling roof. But for the "Bog Walk" there was -no reason apparent, and we did not waste a bit of sympathy on the -supposititious man who first sank to his armpits in what may have been a -bog. - -The Bog Walk road is wide enough for the passing of vehicles, and as -solid as a rock. The English in the West Indies--as elsewhere--have ever -been great road-builders. Now this bit of road--eleven miles long, as -smooth as a floor, as firmly built as the ancient roads of Rome--is part -of a great system of roads which extends for hundreds of miles -throughout the island, and these roads have been constructed with so -much care that, in spite of the torrents of tropical rain which must at -times flood them, they remain as firm and enduring as the mountains -themselves, seemingly the only man-made device in the West Indies which -has been able to withstand the ravages of the tropical elements. - -Jamaica is one hundred and forty-four miles long and fifty miles wide, -and its entire area is a network of these wonderful roads. Roads which -would grace a Roman Empire, here wind through vast lonely forests and -plantations of coffee and cacao, past towns whose ramshackle houses are -giving the last gasps of dissolution. Jamaica has evidently suffered -under the affliction of road-making governors, whose single purpose has -been to build roads though all else go untouched, and they have held to -that ambition with bulldog pertinacity. No one can deny the wonder of -the Jamaican highway. But whither, and to what, does it lead? Good roads -are truly civilisers, and essential to the good of a country, but there -must be a reason for their existence which is mightier than the way -itself. Had there been half as many forest roads in Jamaica as there are -now, and the money which has been buried in practically unused paths -put into good schools and the encouragement of agriculture, Jamaica -might to-day show a very different face. The most casual observation -tells us of vast, unreasoning waste of money on the beautiful island, -and one cannot but pity the patient blacks who have suffered so much -from the poor administration of their white brothers. - -[Illustration: A NATIVE HUT - -Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -It was our pleasure to drive some distance on these hard turnpikes, and -in miles we met but one conveyance of any kind, and that was a rickety -old box on wheels, carrying a family of coolies to Spanish Town. - -This place out-Spanished any Spanish town we had ever seen in filth and -general dilapidation. It was simply a lot of rambling old shacks, -huddled together under the long-suffering palms--dirty, forlorn, -forsaken, never good for much when young, and beyond redemption in its -puerile old age. Down through these haunts of the half-naked blacks, -there sweeps a road fit for a chariot and four. Diamond necklaces are -queenly prerogatives, and the proper setting for a royal feast; but, -thrown about the neck of a starving child, they are, to say the least, -out of place. Nothing can be more entrancing, when perfect of its kind, -than either diamonds or children, but they do not belong together. It -may be, that, when the child is grown, circumstances will make the -wearing of such a necklace a graceful adornment, but, until that time -does come, the child's belongings should be those of simple necessity, -all else being sacrificed to the normal growth of body and mind; let -this be once well under way and adornments may follow. Jamaica has given -her children a diamond necklace, and, although magnificent and -wonderful, it is out of place, and the worst of it is, the children have -had to pay dearly for it. - -What Jamaica would have been under wise and prudent management, and with -a different racial problem, no one can say. She has certainly never been -lacking in resources, nor has she lacked amenable--though not always -desirable--subjects. But there is a hitch somewhere, and to find that -hitch would take a long unravelling of a torn and broken skein, the kind -of work few care to undertake; but it is the work which must be done if -Jamaica is ever to have a future. - -[Illustration: THE BOG WALK ROAD, NEAR SPANISH TOWN - -Jamaica] - -Dusty and hot and still wondering where the "Bog Walk" would appear, we -left the carriages for an inn which stood close to the road. It was -somewhat--no, I should say much--above the average Jamaican house, -passably clean, just passably, and in a way rather inviting to the -traveller who is glad enough to go anywhere, where he can be satisfied, -if he is hungry and tired. But the house was not what I wanted to tell -you about; it was the _grande dame_ within, who played the indifferent -hostess. We did not see her as we ran up-stairs to the upper balcony; it -was well after we had sipped our rum and lemonade--for we did sip it; we -not only sipped it, but we drank it, and it was fine, and we felt so -comfortable that, when she--_la grande dame_--appeared, it never -occurred to us to express our disappointment over the Bog Walk; we just -agreed with her in everything she said, and felt beatific. I think we -would have agreed with her even without the rum and lemonade, for she -had an air about her that made one feel acquiescent. She was tall and -angular. Her features were as clean-cut as though chiselled in marble; -she was clearly Caucasian in type. Her lips were thin, her nose was -aquiline, and her mouth had a haughty, indifferent curve, suggesting a -race of masters, not slaves. But her skin was like a smoke-browned pipe, -and her hair was glossy, and waved in quick little curves in spite of -the tightly drawn coil at the back of her stately neck. She was dressed -in the fashion of long ago, with a full flounced skirt and a silk shawl. -She sent her menials to wait upon us, although I noticed that, in spite -of herself, she was taking an interest in the strangers. - -The Madame went before, and we followed, through the ever-open door of -the West Indian home. The Madame's skirts swept over the uneven -threshold, over the bare, creaky floors, and her noiseless feet led the -way into a past, rich in romance and disaster. The Madame had little to -say; she just glided on before us like a black memory. Here on the bare, -untidy floors were the Madame's treasures; treasures she used daily, for -the table was spread (the Madame served dinner there just the hour -before). Here was a table of Dominican mahogany with carved legs and -oval top, and there on the sideboard was rare old plate, and quaintest -pieces of Dresden china and Italian glass glistened as it once had done -near the lips of its lordly master. The side-table of mahogany gave out -a dull, rich lustre of venerable age, and there was a punch-bowl--silver, -and much used--and curious candlesticks with glass shades. Ah! The -Madame was rich. What a place, I thought, for a lover of the antique! - -In her bedroom hard-by, a massive four-poster reached to the ceiling, -and off in a dark corner there was an old chest, richly ornamented with -brass. In every room there were chairs and davenports in quaintest -fashion, all dull and worn and beautiful, while the billiard-room -outside was well filled by a massive old-fashioned rosewood -billiard-table whose woodwork, undermined by the extensive ravages of -ants, was fast falling in pieces. "Where has it come from?" we ask; and -she replies, with a lofty air, that her grandfather brought all these -over from England long, long ago. No doubt the Madame would have sold -any and all of it, and we caught ourselves wondering how we could get -one of those old pieces home. It really seemed as if we ought to buy -something, for the black Madame, towering above us, certainly expected -to make a sale. But we didn't buy; we just admired it all, and -particularly the Madame, and then we began again to try and think out -the dreary tangle. - -There was just one thing the Madame had which she would not sell, and -that was the one thing we wanted most: the story of that grandfather. -She was the _grande dame_; his history was sealed behind those -unfathomable eyes. She admitted only the patrician in her blood, not the -savage. The grandfather had left his stamp upon that face, but there was -that other stamp! Alas, the Englishman has sold his birthright in -Jamaica; he is selling it to-day, and what more hopeless future could -rest over a people than does this day over the island of Jamaica? - - -III. - -And now we are back in Kingston, the city. "How would it be for us to -leave Daddy here--he wants to be measured at the military tailor's for -some khaki suits--and run off down the street on the shady side, to what -seems to be a 'Woman's Exchange?'" The little girls, always ready for a -new expedition, take the lead, and for once we found a sign which was -not misleading. It proved to be a veritable Woman's Exchange, filled -with no end of curious specimens of native workmanship which had been -brought there for sale. Among the natural curios--to us the most -wonderful--was a branch of what is known as the lacebark-tree. The -botanist will have to tell you its real unpronounceable name. For us -"lacebark" answers very well, because we don't know the other, and have -no way of finding it out just now. Who ever thought of carrying an -encyclopedia in a steamer-trunk? I am sadly conscious that we even -forgot the pocket-dictionary. Please forgive us this time! But it was -the tree that interested us, not its name. Its fibrous inner bark (much -like the bark of our Northern moosewood) is made of endless layers of -lacelike network, which can be opened and stretched a great width, even -in the bark of a bit of wood an inch and a half in diameter. These -layers of lace are separated and opened into flowerlike cups, with rim -upon rim of lacy edge, all coming from the one solid stick of wood, or -carefully unrolled into filmy sheets of net-like tissue. The native -whips are made by taking long branches of this tree, scraping off the -brittle outer bark, opening the inner fibrous bark, and braiding the -ends into a tapering lash as long as one wishes. Hats are trimmed with -scarfs of this dainty woodland lace, and even dresses are said to be -made from this cloth of the forest, which rivals in loveliness the -fairest weaving of Penelope. - -The gracious woman in charge told us that, while the Exchange was -self-supporting, it owed its existence to the liberality of an American -girl, who had many years ago married an English nobleman. And it made me -glad to think that our glorious American women had, with all their -foolish love for titles, a generous hand for woman the world over, and -that, wherever they wandered, their ways could be followed by the light -of their liberality. In a way, the Exchange--founded by an American -woman--made us forgive much in Kingston; so, when we took the street up -to the Myrtle Bank Hotel, expecting from its name to find a sweet, -delicious caravansary, embowered in myrtle green and magnolia, and -found the "Myrtle Bank" an arid sand beach, with a large, -self-sufficient modern hotel built therein, we still forgave, because we -said we would for the sake of that dear American girl who couldn't quite -forget. - -And then, too, the Doctor met us straight in the doorway; not the newly -made Philadelphia doctor. No, not that one; it was the other one, the -Northeast Trade, the million-year-old West Indian Doctor. Do you suppose -he is as old as that? Yes, even older. But, for all that, he's as -faithful to his trust as though but yesterday he had slipped from out -the wrangling of chaos. So we kiss the Doctor, and run up after him into -the big, spacious parlour of the Myrtle Bank Hotel, drop down into a -delightful rocker, and think it all over. - -Here we are in Kingston, owned by the English, governed by the English, -bullyragged by the English,--but where is he, the Englishman, where the -Englishwoman? To be sure, we found some white faces in the shops, and we -remembered seeing a few fair-haired, sallow little girls. And we saw on -the street, just as we left the Exchange, an Englishman with a golf-bag -on his shoulder; but these were the landmarks only--the exception. The -people we saw were of all shades of a negro admixture, and some very -black ones at that. - -But the Myrtle Bank Hotel was not the place for such reflections. At -least, so the good Doctor seemed to think, for he had no sooner brought -us under the magic of his presence, than we were carried into the most -affable state of contentment with all things visible, and it was not -until the next morning that the question fully dawned upon us in its -true significance. - - -IV. - -[Illustration: WHERE WE LANDED - -Kingston, Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -I suppose we might have walked from the boat-landing to the Parish -Church embowered in its palms a few blocks away, but even that short -distance was exaggerated by the early hot glare of the sun. The -Northeast Trade was taking his morning nap, and the air was utterly -motionless. So Daddy hails a cab, and we rumble off in the direction of -some ringing bells. The town, as we drove along, had the dead look of an -English Sunday morning; there were few people visible, and those we -saw were evidently following the bells, as we were. Back of our desire -to go where the face of the priest was leading us, there was a hope -that, in attending an English church, presided over by a white, English -priest, we should there see the representative people of Kingston, the -white owners of the island. This church was one of the few beautiful -sights in Kingston. Truly, some good priest of the olden time must have -planned with lingering touch the graceful garden which so lovingly -enshrined the venerable spot. An avenue of palms, singing their silvery -song all the long day, skirted on either side the wide stone walk to the -entrance, and bent their long, waving arms very close to our heads as we -stepped within the doorway. The church, as an ancient tablet indicated, -was built in the latter part of the seventeenth century. It followed the -sweet lines of the English cathedral, built from time to time, as one -could readily observe from the varying indications of age in the -structure itself. - -We were early for the service, for the second bell had not rung. The -priest met us at the door. He was a man of ripe years, with close-cut -whitening hair, and a face that one would always remember. It was framed -in strength and moulded by the love of God. There was in it that -indefinable beauty which comes from a sacrificial life, from a life -breathed upon by the spirit of holiness and quiet. There were no lines -of unrest there; the poise of divine equilibrium was his living -benediction, and we followed him down the stone aisle, over the memorial -slabs of the departed great buried beneath, to a seat just the other -side of a massive white pillar, midway between open windows on one side -and an open door on the other, where the grateful breeze, now faintly -rustling the palms without, swept in upon us in delicious waves. - -We were placed quite well in front of the transept, and as we waited -there in the quiet old building, I began to make a mental estimate of -just where the different classes of Jamaican society would find -themselves. Here, where we were, would be the whites, and back beyond -the transept, the negroes, and in the choir, of course, the fair-haired -English boys. Then the old bell began to ring again, and a few of our -fellow voyagers came in and took seats in front of us,--notably Mr. and -Mrs. F----, who had been the guests of the priest the day before. The -church was filling. The owners of the seat in which the priest had -placed us arrived, and we were requested by a silent language, which -speaks more forcibly than words, to move along and make room. In the -meantime, the pew was also filled from the other side, and in the same -dumb language we were requested to move back the other way. Thus we were -wedged in closely between the two respective owners of the seat. And -they were not white owners,--they were black, brown, yellow--but not -white. The church filled rapidly. It filled to the uttermost. Mr. and -Mrs. F----, in front of us, were obliged to separate, for, when the -owners of their seat arrived, they simply stood there until Mr. F---- -was forced to leave his wife and crowd in somewhere else. The pew-owners -were the rightful possessors, and the white man or the stranger -apparently of little consequence. There was every conceivable shade of -the African mixture. The choir was made up partially of black negresses, -partially of yellow girls, with men of all hues besides, and the whole -congregation in this Church of England was similarly mixed, with the -black blood strongly predominant. I saw, outside of our party, only one -Englishwoman and one Englishman, and a few about whom I was doubtful, -and those were all. The blacks were very far from being the true type of -African. In some cases, there would be the negro face in all its -characteristics, with one exception, and that would be the oblique eyes -of the Chinese. There were Japanese negroes, and Chinese negroes, and -English and French negroes. It was a horrible mixture of negro with -every other people found in the island, with the negro in the ascendant. - -I saw no marks of deference paid to the white strangers; they were -placed in the same position in which a negro would find himself in a -Mississippi gathering of white people. If you have ever witnessed the -enthusiasm with which the negro is welcomed in such places, you can -understand our position that day in Jamaica. We had been told of the -contempt in which the white man is held in Haiti, and, not having -experienced it, were disinclined to believe such an abnormal state of -things. But, here in Jamaica, without ever having been informed of -the state of society, we felt it as plainly as if it had been emblazoned -on the sign-boards. We were not welcome and we felt it. We were out of -our element. - -[Illustration: EL MORRO, ENTRANCE TO HARBOUR - -Santiago de Cuba - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -The people were all well clothed,--many in elegance. The most of them in -white and black; court mourning for the queen. - -And then the grand old service began,--that wonderful world-encircling -service of our old English Mother Church--always the same and always -sufficient--and it was all so strange,--the feeling I had about that -word "we." There was a slow dawning in my soul that never before had the -word "humanity" meant anything but a white humanity to me--a universal -love for black, yellow, chocolate, brown, saffron humanity had never -come fully into my consciousness. And, while I sat there in that vast, -black assemblage, the long, terrible past of Jamaica arose before me, -and, too, the doubtful future loomed up in gloomy outlines, and I -wondered what would be the outcome of it all. Where would the Englishman -be in another century in Jamaica? Would Jamaica revert back to the -Haitien type, or is some hand coming to uphold the island? It is far -from my intention to touch upon the political situation in -Jamaica,--especially as I don't know anything about it. I can only tell -you what I saw, and you can draw your own conclusions. All I can say is, -where is the white man in Jamaica? What is his position, and what has -brought him into his present deplorable condition? Has the white blood -after all so little potency? - -One needs but to glance at James Anthony Froude's masterful book, "The -English in the West Indies," in order to see the why and wherefore of it -all. His words have greater force to-day than even at the time of his -writing, for the course of events has more than justified his -predictions. - -Our opinions of the situation were wholly unbiased, for we did not read -Froude's account until long after, so that our sensations, our -surprises, at the Jamaican English Church service, were wholly original. - -[Illustration: THE PLAZA - -Cienfuegos, Cuba] - -The service proceeded through the prayers--our prayers--and then came -the sermon. I shall never forget the text. It was taken from that -masterpiece of Biblical literature, the thirteenth chapter of First -Corinthians: "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and -have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." - -The priest had been there for over thirty years, and he began: - -"Beloved in the Lord, my children!" And we, white and black, were all -his children. We were in a strangely reversed situation, for even the -good priest had the tawny hue of Africa faintly shining in his fine -face. No mention of colour distinction was made: but which of us was to -have the charity? Did it not seem that he pleaded for the white -man--that the stronger black should have more charity? Or was it for us -as well? And it seemed to me I realised for the first time the position -of our well-bred Southerner; and everything was jumbled and queer in my -mind as the priest spoke. And his beautiful strong face shone over the -people, and his voice quivered with a deep love, touching the raiment of -one who said, "Come unto me all ye"--all--all--all! The white arches -echoed back the pleadings, the commands, the love, while in quiet -eloquence he told of One who set his face steadfastly toward Jerusalem. - -The church emptied itself, and we were left with the priest, and the old -sunken tombs, and the sleeping organ, and the white light streaming -through the windows. And we wondered if we had yet learned what the -Master meant when he said: - -"Come unto me all ye--" - -[Illustration: THE GRAVE OF CERVERA'S FLEET - -West of Santiago de Cuba] - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -"CUANDO SALIDE LA HABANA" - - "I sometimes think that never blows so red - The rose as where some buried Caesar bled; - That every hyacinth the garden wears - Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head." - - -The dream days have come and gone. We have left historic Santiago with -its forts and battle-fields, and the beautiful harbour of busy -commercial Cienfuegos; we have skirted along the southern coast of Cuba, -Pearl of the Antilles, through the Yucatan Channel, into the Gulf of -Mexico, and now we are come to Havana, where countless voices call us in -every direction both day and night. - -And yet it is not of Santiago, the old _Merrimac_ lying in midchannel, -El Caney, or San Juan Hill that I am writing to-day--no, nor of the -wrecks of Cervera's fleet strewn in rocking skeletons along the coast. -No, those stories have long since been well told you--those tragic -stories of battle and death, gone now into the past with the echoes of -muffled drums and the shuffling feet of sick soldier boys, dragging -themselves home when the day of vengeance was over. No, it is not of -that I am writing, but of a day which I gave to you, O mothers of our -glorious marines! and I take it now from out the memories of those sunny -isles, a precious keepsake, that it may be yours for ever. - -You are known to me, yet I cannot speak your names. You are near to me, -yet the continent divides us. Your eyes speak to me, and yet, should we -meet, you would pass unrecognised. A universal love, a universal memory -has called you to me, and space cannot separate us. - -In this city of beauty, though alluring at every turn, there was one -pilgrimage, come what may, I would not fail to make. The Morro and -Cabanas might be slighted, but not that patch of green earth away over -the hill where the boys of the _Maine_ lie buried so near the waters -that engulfed them. - -[Illustration: WRECK OF THE MAINE - -Havana Harbour, Cuba - -Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Far from the city they rest, where none may trouble their deep slumbers. -Their only monument a bare worn path where thousands of those who loved -your boys and honoured their memory have trodden down the grass about -the lowly bed. - -It was a day as still as heaven, when in the City of the Dead I silently -took my way; and coming to their long home I knelt down in the moist -coverlet of grass and folding my hands looked up into the infinite depth -of the blue sky, which dropped its peaceful curtain so tenderly over -them. I seemed to stand upon a sun-kissed summit, from which I might -scan the whole earth. And it was from there, afar off, I felt the -yearning of your tears. I reached down to the earth and gathered some -humble little flowers which pitying had throbbed out their sweet souls -over the blessed dead; and I held them lovingly in my hands, and then -placed them within the leaves of a book, thinking that some day when we -should meet I would give them to you. And now they wait for your coming, -O mothers! I could give you naught more precious. - -Yes, the days have come and gone as all days must, and we shall soon -have left the Isles of Endless Summer. But so long as life lasts, their -radiance will enfold us, and when the day is done, we shall draw the -curtain well content, knowing that no greater beauty can await us than -this fair earth has brought. - -[Illustration: CABANAS, LA PUNTA, AND HARBOUR ENTRANCE - -Havana, Cuba - -Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -A MEMORY OF MARTINIQUE - - "La facon d'etre du pays est si agreable, la temperature si bonne, - et l'on y vit dans une liberte si honnete, que je n'aye pas vu un - seul homme, ny une seule femme, qui en soient revenus, en qui je - n'aye remarque une grande passion d'y retourner."--LE PERE - DUTERTRE, _writing in 1667_. - - -A few insignificant little photographs are lying on the desk before me. -Some of them are blurred; some of them are out of focus. They have been -for many months packed away among bundles of other photographs of a -similar character, moved from their corner in the library amongst the -books of travel, only to be occasionally dusted by the indifferent -housemaid and packed away again out of sight. - -Days come and days go, and things move on in uniform measure, and life -glides silently away from us, and one day passes much as does the day -before; and we plan and work and hope, and we build to-day upon the -assurances of yesterday and to-morrow; and, although we know that there -are times when love can be crushed out of a life, yet we base our hope -upon the eternal fixedness of love; and, although constantly face to -face with the mutability of all created things, we build upon the -eternal stability of matter. We hope by reason of an undying faith in -those we love; we build upon a belief in the immutability of the -everlasting hills; and we go on building and hoping until, with some, -there comes a day when the soul burns out, and the everlasting hills -crumble to ashes, and loving and building is no more, and there is never -loving or building again in the same way. - - * * * * * - -Much as we touch the sacred belongings of the beloved dead, do I now -bring forth from their lonely hiding-place the few photographs of St. -Pierre and the fascinating shores of Martinique, which we took last -winter, as we cruised through the Windward Islands. - -[Illustration: ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELEE BEFORE THE ERUPTION - -Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -Having but just read the terrible tidings from Martinique that St. -Pierre has been utterly destroyed by volcanic eruption, and the fair -island left an ash-heap, these one-time insignificant little pictures -become at once inexpressibly dear to me; and I have been sitting here -for a long, long time, looking first at one and then at another, with a -tenderness born of sorrow and love. - -Say what you may of the futility of a love which clings to places, it is -nevertheless a passion so deeply rooted in some natures that neither -life nor death seem able to cause its destruction. There is no reasoning -with love; it is born to be, to exist, and why we love there is no -finding out. Strange, this wonderful loving which comes to you and me! -Not alone the love we lavish upon God's creatures; upon father, mother, -sister, brother, husband, wife, and children, and the whole world of -humankind; but upon all of God's handiwork: His trees, His flowers, His -dear brown soil, His hills, His valleys, His broad, sweeping plains, His -high, loftily crested peaks, His lonely byways, where shy birds and -soft-footed beasts hold high carnival the livelong day. - -Beloved as are all of God's creatures, there are for each one of us a -few, a very few, souls without whom loving would seem to pass away. -Beautiful as is the great earth, there are chosen spots upon it for you -and for me, to which our thoughts revert with an infinite tenderness; -and were such sweet abiding-places suddenly to be blotted from the -earth, it would seem to us as though beauty had died for ever. - -Such a treasure-house was St. Pierre to me. In the midst of islands, -each rivalling the other in loveliness, Martinique had a claim for -homage which none other possessed. Its charm was felt even far out to -sea, as its lofty headlands, with terrible _Pelee_ looking over, struck -a bold pace for the lesser isles to follow. - -As we approached the still, deep harbour,--although the hour was late -for landing,--we were so permeated by the puissant fascination of the -place, that, against the protests of old wiseacres aboard, we -nevertheless took the first available small boat, lured into the arms of -St. Pierre by her irresistible summons. - -And what was that summons? Who can tell? - -[Illustration: ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELEE AFTER THE ERUPTION - -Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -The same hand beckoned us which has for generations been beckoning other -children of men; other children who have gone there to live and die -content; the same that beckoned old Father Dutertre hundreds of years -ago. Children's children have been born there, and have grown old and -withered, and have gone the way of all the earth, and _La Pelee_, the -giantess, has slept for generations, and the children had quite -forgotten that the day might come when she would awaken. _La Pelee_ was -slumbering, oh! so gently--so peacefully, that far-away night, when we -first wondered at her beauty--and we, too, forgot! For did not her -children say that she would never waken more? - -The soft, blue hills said, "Come!" The lonely peaks, beyond, said, -"Come!" And the little city waved its pretty white hand to us with -"Come!" in every motion; and the sweet-voiced creole lads, who rowed us -in, smiled, "Come!" and what could we do? - -And then, when we entered the little city, it was so snug and clean, and -it was all so different, so different. How can I explain it to you? -There was, as it were, a homogeneousness about the people which was not -apparent in the other islands. Here was a people whose sires had sprung -from the best blood of France, from a race of great men and women; here -the question of colour had been more harmoniously worked out; and we -felt at once that we were amongst those whose ancestors had learned, -through the streaming blood of kings and princes, the principles of -Liberty, Equality, and Justice. - -The people said, "Come!" and we answered, and long, long into the night -we were following the summons. - -Then it was that _La Pelee_ was fair, and she lay so still, so still, -that the children forgot--if they ever really knew--that very beautiful -women can sometimes be very wicked--only "sometimes," for there are so -many beautiful good women. - -But the children loved _La Pelee_; she was beautiful, and she took her -bath so gently, away amongst the clouds and mist of the morning. - - * * * * * - -As I look again in the unchanging photograph at the dark mountains and -the tiny white city, cuddled down by the sea, with its quaint -lighthouse and its old church, there rises a strange mist over my soul, -and a blur comes into my eyes, and I feel myself pressing the cold bit -of cardboard against my lips as I would the face of a beloved. - -[Illustration: RUE VICTOR HUGO BEFORE THE ERUPTION - -St. Pierre, Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -It comes to me that once again there has gone from my life for eternity -that which can never return; just as the whole bright world can be -changed into darkness by the passing out of a soul we love; and we know -that, however much we long for its return, it can never come back; that -from that hour we tread the way alone. The silent spirit takes up the -light, falters a moment at the door, turning, smiles sweetly upon us, -and is gone, and we are left in a dark room. Oh! the love that we -mortals lavish in this world of ours! - -There was about Martinique a sweetness, a translucent loveliness, an -unforgettableness which crept into the innermost fibre of my being. It -even seemed to creep into my blood and pulsate through my body with -every beat of my heart. - -I listen now to the memories of my soul, and hear again the sweet, soft -voices of the creole girls and the quick, noiseless tread of the -carriers of water, fruits, and cacao coming down from Morne Rouge, -coming from the tender shadows which droop caressingly about the feet of -slumbering _Pelee_. And I can hear the cool trickle of the water from -the half-hidden fountain in a cranny of the wall; and I hear the rush of -the stream down from the mountainside, over stones as white as milk. And -sweet, shy flowers hang over high walls and nod to me; and from green -blinds in low, white mansions, I hear soft young voices, whispering and -laughing. A youth passes, as the blind opens, and he laughs and goes to -the other side of the street to beckon, and, oh! there it is again--the -old story. - -And I go on and on, and I come to the _Riviere Roxelane_ where the women -are spreading their clothes to dry on the great rocks, and the river -tumbles along, and twists in and out with gentle murmurs, and the women -are washing and laughing. - -[Illustration: RUE VICTOR HUGO AFTER THE ERUPTION - -St. Pierre, Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -And I go on to the palms, higher up, and some one brings me wild -strawberries from the cool mountains, and I sit down and pick them -from the basket and eat to my heart's delight; and I rest on the bridge, -so old, all covered with moss and flowers, and I look down into the -valley, where the city lies, and beyond where it dabbles its feet into -the blue sea. And the picture is framed in an oval of green, drooping -trees, and whispering vines, and deep-scented flowers. - - * * * * * - -It must have come--_the end_--just as the good priest was saying mass -down in the white church by the sea, and the creole girls had come from -the mountains with their sticks of palm--for salad--and had sold their -fruits in the market, and had gone with the fishermen to the good -priest; and the white church was crowded to the doors,--for the priest -was beloved, and the church had broad arms,--and the boys were chanting, -when--my God! where should the children escape? The fiery mountain back -of them and the deep sea before them and the air about them a sweeping -furnace! - -"Children! Children!" I seem to hear the clear, ringing voice of the -old priest. "I commit your souls to God. Amen, amen." - -The beautiful _Pelee_ burned out her wicked soul, the River Roxelane ran -dry, the dear, blue sky of morning was turned to hideous night, the -white city fell in blazing ruins, and now the everlasting hills lift -their scarred sides in grim desolation. - -THE END. - - - - -INDEX - - -Andes Mountains, The, 67, 84, 137. - -Aragua River, Venezuela, 145, 146. - -Bank, The, Caracas, 106-111. - -Blue Mountains, The, Jamaica, 197, 205. - -Bolivar, 95. - Statue of, 84, 87. - -Botanical Gardens, The, Martinique, 15, 20. - -Botanical Gardens, The, Port of Spain, 15-34. - Ceiba-Tree, The, 16. - Coffee-Tree, The, 24. - -Cabanas, Havana, 240. - -Caracas, Venezuela, 64, 68, 73, 77, 79-124, 130. - Bank, The, 106-111. - Cathedral, The, 84, 87, 96-97, 103, 113, 118-120, 130. - Gran Hotel de Caracas, The, 80. - Gran Hotel de Venezuela, The, 81-84, 96, 114. - Market, The, 103, 106. - Military Band, The, 97-99. - Municipal Palace, The, 94-96. - Plaza, The, 117, 118. - Society of Caracas, The 122-124. - Square of Bolivar, The, 84, 87. - -Caribbean Sea, The, 36, 151, 153, 159, 193. - -Castro, Cipriano, 88-89, 96, 101, 121, 138, 152, 179. - -Cathedral, The, Caracas, 84, 87, 96-97, 103, 113, 118-120, 130. - -Ceiba-Tree, The, 16. - -Cervera, Admiral, 180-182. - -Cienfuegos, Cuba, 239. - -Coffee-Tree, The, 24. - -Curacao, Island of, 139, 154, 156, 159, 176-179. _See also Willemstad._ - -El Caney, Cuba, 239. - -Gran Hotel de Caracas, The, Caracas, 80. - -Gran Hotel de Venezuela, The, Caracas, 81-84, 96, 114. - -Great Venezuelan Railway, The, 139-142. - -Gulf of Mexico, The, 239. - -Gulf of Paria, The, 11, 64. - -Havana, Cuba, 239. - Cabanas, 240. - Morro, The, 240. - -Jamaica, Island of, 197, 208, 211-212. - Blue Mountains, The, 197, 205. - Kingston, 198, 205, 218, 221, 224-236. - Mandeville, 201. - Natives, The, 227-228. - Rio Cobre, 205. - Spanish Town, 211-212. - -Kingston, Jamaica, 198, 205, 218, 221. - Parish Church, The, 224-236. - -La Brea, Trinidad, 35, 42-59. - -La Guayra, Venezuela, 64, 68, 69-72, 78, 101. - -Lake of Valencia, Venezuela, 125, 145-146. - -Mandeville, Jamaica, 201. - -Margarita, Island of, 64. - -Market, The, Caracas, 103-106. - -Martinique, Island of, 248-264. - Botanical Gardens, 15, 20. - Mount Pelee, 255, 256, 263-264. - Riviere Roxelane, 260, 264. - St. Pierre, 248, 252. - -Military Band, The, Caracas, 97-99. - -Morro, The, Havana, 240. - -Mount Pelee, Martinique, 255, 256, 263-264. - -Municipal Palace, The, Caracas, 94-96. - -Natives, The, of Curacao, 160-163, 177-178; - of Jamaica, 227-228; - of Trinidad, 51, 56. - -Orinoco River, The, 11, 64. - -Parish Church, The, Kingston, 224-236. - -Plaza, The, Caracas, 117, 118. - -Port of Spain, Trinidad, 12. - Botanical Gardens, The, 15-34. - Queen's Park Hotel, The, 12-14. - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela, 78, 101, 125, 126, 129, 136, 151, 154, 156. - - -Queen's Park Hotel, Port of Spain, 12-14. - -Rio Cobre, Jamaica, 205. - -River Tuy, The, Venezuela, 144-145. - -Riviere Roxelane, The, Martinique, 260, 264. - -St. Pierre, Martinique, 248, 252. - -San Juan Hill, Cuba, 239. - -Santiago, Cuba, 239. - -Society of Caracas, The, 122-124. - -Southern Cross, The, 189-191, 193, 196. - -Spanish Town, Jamaica, 211-212. - -Square of Bolivar, The, Caracas, 84, 87. - -Trinidad, Island of, 11, 16, 29. - Natives, The, 51, 56. - -Valencia, Venezuela, 101, 125, 126, 136, 146. - -Willemstad, Curacao, 154, 160-184, 187. - -Yucatan Channel, The, 239. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2, by -Ida May Hill Starr - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES, V. 2/2 *** - -***** This file should be named 43771.txt or 43771.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/7/7/43771/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2 - Sketches of a Cruise to the West Indies and the Spanish Main - -Author: Ida May Hill Starr - -Release Date: September 20, 2013 [EBook #43771] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES, V. 2/2 *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES - - VOLUME II. - - Travel Lovers' Library - - [Illustration] - - _Each in two volumes profusely illustrated_ - - Florence - By GRANT ALLEN - - Romance and Teutonic Switzerland - By W. D. MCCRACKAN - - Old World Memories - By EDWARD LOWE TEMPLE - - Paris - By GRANT ALLEN - - Feudal and Modern Japan - By ARTHUR MAY KNAPP - - The Unchanging East - By ROBERT BARR - - Venice - By GRANT ALLEN - - Gardens of the Caribbees - By IDA M. H. STARR - - Belgium: Its Cities - By GRANT ALLEN - -[Illustration] - - L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY - Publishers - 200 Summer Street, Boston, Mass. - -[Illustration: FROM OUR BALCONY - -CARACAS, VENEZUELA.] - - - - - GARDENS OF - THE CARIBBEES - - Sketches of a Cruise to the West - Indies and the Spanish Main - - By - Ida M. H. Starr - - IN TWO VOLUMES - VOL. II. - _ILLUSTRATED_ - - [Illustration: colophon] - - Boston - L. C. Page & Company - _MDCCCCIV_ - - _Copyright, 1903_ - By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY - (INCORPORATED) - - _All rights reserved_ - - Published July, 1903 - - Colonial Press - Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. - Boston, Mass., U.S.A. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - I. ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. "IERE" 11 - - II. ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. LA BREA 35 - - III. THE SPANISH MAIN 64 - - IV. IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS 101 - - V. IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS TO PUERTO CABELLO 125 - - VI. CURAÇAO. CITY OF WILLEMSTAD 153 - - VII. THE SOUTHERN CROSS 189 - -VIII. KINGSTON, JAMAICA 198 - - IX. "CUANDO SALIDE LA HABANA" 239 - - X. A MEMORY OF MARTINIQUE 247 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - -VOLUME II. - PAGE - -FROM OUR BALCONY, CARACAS, VENEZUELA _Frontispiece_ - -THE BARRACKS, THROUGH LIVE-OAKS AND MAHOGANY-TREES, TRINIDAD 17 - -GOVERNOR'S PALACE AND PUBLIC GARDENS, PORT OF SPAIN, TRINIDAD 21 - -ON THE WAY TO THE SAVANNAH, PORT OF SPAIN, TRINIDAD 31 - -THE BEACH OF LA BREA, TRINIDAD 39 - -ASPHALT FOR NORTHERN PAVEMENTS, PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 47 - -LOADING CARS, PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 53 - -A NATIVE WASHERWOMAN ON THE PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 57 - -WHERE THE MOUNTAINS MEET THE SEA, LA GUAYRA, VENEZUELA 65 - -CARACAS AND THE MOUNTAINS, VENEZUELA 75 - -EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 85 - -AN INTERIOR COURT, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 91 - -CATHEDRAL AND PLAZA, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 111 - -A HOUSE BESIDE THE SEA, PUERTO CABELLO, VENEZUELA 127 - -A SOUTH AMERICAN STREET, PUERTO CABELLO, VENEZUELA 149 - -ACROSS STE. ANNE BAY, HARBOUR OF WILLEMSTAD, CURAÇAO 157 - -SOME OF OUR FRIENDS AT WILLEMSTAD.--WHERE THE BASKET-WOMEN WAITED, -WILLEMSTAD, CURAÇAO 161 - -THE LANDING, WILLEMSTAD, CURAÇAO 165 - -A Jolly Dutch Port, Willemstad, Curaçao 173 - -A SNUG HARBOUR, WILLEMSTAD, CURAÇAO 185 - -KINGSTON, JAMAICA, FROM THE BAY 199 - -RIO COBRE, NEAR SPANISH TOWN, JAMAICA 203 - -A NATIVE HUT, JAMAICA 209 - -THE BOG WALK ROAD, NEAR SPANISH TOWN, JAMAICA 213 - -WHERE WE LANDED, KINGSTON, JAMAICA 223 - -EL MORRO, ENTRANCE TO HARBOUR, SANTIAGO DE CUBA 229 - -THE PLAZA, CIENFUEGOS, CUBA 233 - -THE GRAVE OF CERVERA'S FLEET, WEST OF SANTIAGO DE CUBA 237 - -THE WRECK OF THE MAINE, HAVANA HARBOUR, CUBA 241 - -CABAÑAS, LA PUNTA, AND HARBOUR ENTRANCE, HAVANA, CUBA 245 - -ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELÉE BEFORE THE ERUPTION, MARTINIQUE 249 - -ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELÉE AFTER THE ERUPTION, MARTINIQUE 253 - -RUE VICTOR HUGO BEFORE THE ERUPTION, ST. PIERRE, MARTINIQUE 257 - -RUE VICTOR HUGO AFTER THE ERUPTION, ST. 267 - - - - -Gardens of the Caribbees - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -ISLAND OF TRINIDAD, "IERE" - - -I. - -Had we known just a little more about Trinidad, it would have made a -great difference in that luncheon, but it all came out wrong because -some of us didn't know. Too late to influence us in the least, we read -in the _Daily Gleaner_, of Jamaica, that the beef sold in Trinidad is -exported alive from Venezuela. To be sure, we were aware that Venezuela -occupies a large part of the northern coast of South America, and were -conscious that Trinidad lies enclosed in a great bay of that coast, -called the Gulf of Paria, off the delta of the Orinoco River; also, in a -hazy way, we knew that the Spanish Main is a name applied somewhat -vaguely to that same South American coast--a relic of the days of -pirates, buccaneers, and freebooting English admirals; but we no more -expected to be served a roast of beef from the Spanish Main than a dish -of Boston baked beans from our castles in Spain. The two dimly -intangible names had ever borne a close comradeship in our minds, a -poetic association affiliated them in closest bonds. The same sun kissed -into rose tints the turrets of our castles in Spain and the lofty -summits of the Spanish Main. The same romance lifted them both away from -reality into that land just bordering upon the Islands of the Blest, and -much as we longed to materialise our dreams, and make the Spanish Main a -usable fact, when the opportunity came for us to do so, it slipped away -from us before we were conscious of its existence. - -Unaware that the illuminated postal-card _menu_ on the table at the -Queen's Park Hotel, Port of Spain, could in any sense lift the veil from -our enchantments, we read the following bill of fare: - - Mayonnaise of Fish, with Lettuce - Oysters _en Poulet_ - Scrambled Eggs with Asparagus Tips - Irish Stew - Haricot of Oxtail - Brain Fritters - Curry of Veal _à l'Indien_ - Boiled Turkey and Rice - Ham and Spinach - Fried Sausages and Potatoes - Salad - Assorted Cold Meats - String Beans Rice Mashed Potatoes - Macaroni _au Gratin_ - Chocolate Ice-cream Cakes - Cheese - -Eight of us sat down at a table on the veranda, white-walled, -white-ceilinged, and white pillared. A white-gravelled walk led out into -the white sun, through a stiff, boxed-in, English garden, stuffed with -plants in green tubs, and redeemed only by those natural things that -will grow and be beautiful in spite of all conventions. Thirsting for -cool ices and delectable fruits, looking wistfully for our vanishing -fancies of West Indian ambrosia, we turn in a listless, disappointed way -to that bill of fare, where ham and spinach and Irish stew and fried -sausages send our hopes a-scampering off like a lot of frightened -children. - -What man in his sane mind would order an haricot of ox-tail in the -tropics, when he needs but lift his hand for the food of Paradise; what -man, with any sense of the fitness of things, would eat curried veal, -when, for the asking, he might sup a libation fit for the gods? Alas! -The asking never brought it, and we--that is, one, at least--settled -down to scrambled eggs, and felt and looked unutterable scorn upon the -one next at table who began at mayonnaise of fish, and took every course -to cheese. Ah! friends, this was a case where the one who didn't know -fared ill. She lost her first opportunity of paying her respects to the -Spanish Main. - -Hungry and disillusioned, the one and the only thing to do is to forget -those steaming sausages and the Irish stew as quickly as possible. We -shall not stay here a moment longer. Hotels are makeshifts at the best. -Let us leave these unromantic, unscrupulous venders of ham and spinach! - -There, over yonder on the other side of the savannah, there is a -delicious retreat where we can make good our escape. - - -II. - -We shall never again see anything which can compare in beauty, of its -kind, with the _Jardin des Plantes_ of Martinique. No, we never -shall--still, we must be just to all. Trinidad's Botanical Garden is -beautiful in its own way, and we were impressed with the idea that it -possessed some features which that of Martinique lacked. However, that -might have been owing to the fact that we did not view the Martinique -Garden in its entirety. Had we done so, we might have found the same -species in both places. - -From casual observation there seemed to me to be one distinctive -characteristic of tropical vegetation; the trees did not appear to grow -so much in great social orders as do those of temperate zones. In the -North, vast families of the same species of trees gather together and -keep together with as rigid a pertinacity as any Scotch clan; the beech, -birch, oak, maple, pine, hemlock, walnut, hickory, all have their pet -homes and their own relations, and no amount of coddling or persuasion -will ever induce them to a wide change of _habitat_; but in the far -South, the tropical trees seem willing to settle anywhere in this land -of endless summer. Of course, one finds that certain trees love the -swamps, and others prefer the high lands; and some will grow in greater -magnificence in some places where the conditions are absolutely -congenial, than in other places where they are not so. There is the -mangrove; it loves the wet and the mire--the mosquito-ridden, miasmatic -river borders--and wherever, on these coasts, you find a swamp, whether -in the very hottest spots, or in others only moderately so, there you'll -find the mangrove sending out ærial roots, reaching down into the muck -for new strength, forming--banyan-like--a family of new trunks, all -under one leafy canopy, quite content if only it has the water about its -roots and a certain degree of heat. - -Away up there in Haïti, we find the ceiba, and down here in Trinidad it -is equally at home. These conditions make the formation of a botanical -garden, representing the world-growth of sunlit vegetation, peculiarly -favourable. Trinidad is said to possess the most superb collection of -tropical plants in existence; and though gathered from all lands, -growing not as strangers or even stepchildren, but as rightful heirs to -the immeasurable vital force which pours forth from a rich soil warmed -by a blazing sun the year around. - -[Illustration: THE BARRACKS, THROUGH LIVE-OAKS AND MAHOGANY-TREES - -Trinidad] - -The garden once entered, we pass a great, squarely built mansion, the -governor's residence, and are in the midst of a wonderful vegetation -from the first step. At the very entrance, we are greeted with, perhaps, -the most unique tree in these latitudes. - -After all, there is something stupefying in the effort to describe -tropical wonders. When they are passing before one's eyes, each has a -feature distinct to itself, which, in a way, is its own manner of -description. Each has its peculiar wonder, its own glory,--no two -alike--and yet, when one sits down to think it over, there is the same -old alphabet from which to draw new pictures, new miracles; and how to -make each different with the same letters is a question indeed. - -If I could only tell you the name of this particular tree which stands -at the entrance to the garden, you might some day hunt it up yourself, -but as I know neither its family nor home, we will let that all go, and -just tell you how it is dressed. - -It is a heavily, glossily leafed, symmetrical, low tree, just about the -size of those dear old cherry-trees we used to climb, oh, so long,--so -long ago! From the tip of every branch there drops a cord-like fibre -about a foot and a half long, and at the end of this little brown string -there hangs a cluster of delicate pink flowers. These are suspended in -almost exact length in rows from the lowest to the highest branch, and -it really seems as if Nature were experimenting to see what wonderful -living garlands she could create for a canopy above our heads. - - -III. - -The character of the garden is defined at once upon entrance. It is a -botanical garden, pure and simple, a place for strange plants from far -away, a sort of orphan asylum for everybody's vegetable baby. It is not, -like Martinique, an enchanted forest with cascades and glens fit for -nymphs and dryads; it is matter-of-fact, orderly, prim, and -businesslike. Aside from its unique trees, there is little to attract -one, so we decide for once it would be wise to engage a guide who can -tell us something about the inhabitants of the place, which otherwise -promises to be rather dull. - -[Illustration: GOVERNOR'S PALACE AND PUBLIC GARDENS - -Port of Spain, Trinidad] - -So we hunt up a crooked, stump-legged Portuguese gardener, by name -Manuel, who takes our heavy baskets, we following down a little glen -which grows at once quite dark and sweet and silent. - -Through long, freshly cut bamboo poles, streams of water are being -carried hither and thither to special spots in the garden, and we stop -to watch the trickling, and dip our hands down into its pleasant -coolness. Away up through the dark leafage, a mighty royal palm with -stern aristocratic grace swings and rattles its great, dead, brown -arms--the skeleton of its last year's growth--beneath the luxuriant -crown of this year's green plumes. - -In the thicket, we find the nutmegs, hiding among the delicate foliage -of a low-branching tree. Sister reaches among the leaves and pulls off -some of the fragrant fruit, and gathers many from the ground. A sense of -rare luxuriance comes over us. This gathering of the spices of life from -the very ground upon which we tread is intoxicating, and we just begin -to understand the causes back of those dark pages of West Indian -history, when man first partook of this delirium. - -These large-leafed, upright little trees are the Madagascar coffee, and -the smaller and more graceful ones, the Java coffee--how they take us -back to those happy days and months among the coffee plantations, long -ago!--and near by is the friendly banana, so common an object that we -pass its torn, drooping leaves with scarcely a thought, but it is worth -more than a passing glance, for there is no plant in all the tropics -more useful than the banana. It has not only delicious fruit of many -sizes and varieties, but it is also cooked as a vegetable, and forms one -of the chief sources of the native diet. It is planted, on account of -its heavy shade and quick growth, to shade the coffee, while trees of -slower growth and more permanent shade are maturing, thus forming a -necessary and temporary protection; it is also used for the same purpose -among the cacao trees. It is a sort of foster-mother to the cacao, to -care for the tender shrub until its real mother, "_La Madre del Cacao_," -can assume permanent care of its charge. The banana takes so little -vitality from the ground that, as protection to the coffee and cacao, it -is indispensable. We had some very delicious, green-skinned bananas at -several places, and found the small apple banana everywhere. - -Manuel leads us on, and stops under a spindling, tall tree, flowering -with dainty, pink buds of a delicious odour, and there's one branch just -low enough for Little Blue Ribbons to reach on tiptoe. Does it seem -possible that the little brown cloves, rattling in my spice-box at home, -could ever have been so fresh and soft and pink? Poor little mummies! - -And just see what we are coming to! Did you ever imagine there could be -such shade? It's a tree from the Philippines. We stoop to get under the -black leaves, and there the shade is absolutely impenetrable. What an -adjustment of things there is in this grand old earth of ours! - -My thoughts fly back to our Northern woods. I see the sinuously graceful -elms, with the sunlight streaming through their wide open branches upon -an earth longing for warmth; and long shafts of white noonday shooting -through the interstices of basswood, maple, and ash; the woods are not -black and sunless; they are translucently green, quivering with light -and needed warmth. But here, where the sun is a ball of redundant flame -the year around, Nature bequeaths to her children a shaded forest, -rigidly trunked, stolidly formed, thick-leafed, which no blazing sun can -penetrate or sweeping hurricane desolate. - - -IV. - -Quite as one strokes the head of a favourite animal, Manuel leads us to -an insignificant-looking tree, takes a branch caressingly in his hand, -brings out his clumsy knife, selects just the right spot, cuts off a -bit, and hands us a piece of camphor wood. - -Into the dear St. Thomas basket it goes, with the leaves of coffee, the -pink and white clove blossoms, and a long spray of _araucaria_ from the -Norfolk Islands,--a strange company, indeed! - -Yonder long yellow avenues are cinnamon and spice groves with -reddish-yellow bark, smooth as wax, casting slender shadows in the -golden light. Here is the shaddock, entirely weaned from its Malayan -home, and farther on a clump of low bushes, in among the nutmeg trees -and coffee, with small satin-like leaf, brings us to the herb that -"cheers but does not inebriate,"--the tea. - -Just see those glorious great lemons, glowing in the ever-splendid -sunlight, which transmits to every living object a radiance, a dazzling -brilliancy, in which life progresses and finally dissolves out of sheer -exhaustion from the exuberance of vitality. - -Oh, to our starved eyes of the North; to our senses benumbed by dreary -days of darkened sky, hearts chilled by bitterness of wind and gray, -unyielding frost, this never-ending, unspeakable sunlight, filtering -through the yellow vistas of clove and cinnamon, comes like the actual -presence of Apollo, the Shining One! We may, in unguarded moments, in -ungrateful moments, maybe, consider his embrace too positive, and we may -raise the white umbrella, but we never quite lose our rejuvenated love -for his golden glory. - -Manuel, but half-clad, looks as if he would dismember at any moment. His -trousers are hitched by a couple of old leathers, and his shirt looks -as if it wished it "didn't have to," and his old hat is only there on -sufferance, and his shoes--old flippety-flops--have dragged their -ill-shaped existence through many a weary mile. But Manuel doesn't care; -he loves his garden, and the sunshine and the luscious fruit, all his -children so well behaved and so obedient to his voice. He takes a bamboo -pole and gives one of the big, juicy lemons a rap, and down it falls on -Wee One's head with such a thump! Then Manuel is very sorry, and he -apologises for his child's misdemeanour in his funny, mixed-up -Portuguese-English-Spanish and the rest, and we understand and don't -mind a bit; in fact, we wouldn't care if more would fall in the same -way. - -Once upon a time, in the far-off golden days, when the Divine in -Creation had not been quite forgot, there came to this shore a band of -men,--not faultless, no, not faultless--but great men "for a' that," -who, with glittering cross aloft, christened this fair land after the -blessed Trinity. But this was not her first sacrament. Deep in the -eternal silence of the forest, the dweller in the High Wood had sought -expression of the divine through beauty, and chose a name from out the -radiant wilderness which would tell for ever of its wonderment: "Iere," -the land of the humming-bird, they called her--those dusky children of -the High Wood--and to this day she clings lovingly to her maiden name. - -We look about us. Where are the birds once peopling these forests, like -myriads of rainbows? Oh, sisters! members of Humane Societies! Hunt up -your old bonnets and see the poor little stuffed carcasses ornamenting -your cast-off finery! So Trinidad has been bereft of her wonderful -birds, and now there is but a name, a sad-sounding, meaningless -name--Iere--to tell of days which knew not the pride and cruelty of -women. - -Think of it!--at one time, there averaged twenty thousand humming-birds -a year exported from Trinidad to England alone! - -And now, well--there are none left to export. We must find new islands -to denude, to ravage, to desolate, for our adornment. But it's too -unpleasant,--this seeing things as they are; we'll hide the poor little -innocent card which the black woman gave us at the hotel; we'll cover up -the word "Iere" with these coffee leaves. There, now the spray of -_araucaria_, now the stick of camphor, and I think the lemon will fit -right in among the nutmegs. - -Come along, Manuel, we are ready; and we follow through the birdless -paths, down where the _Nux Vomica_ grows, and the pepper, and the lime -and the calabash, and the orange and breadfruit, and tamarind, and -pineapple; and we go on and wake up the comical lizards who scurry away -like brown flashes of whip-cord. What ridiculous creatures they are, and -how desperately frightened! Why, surely they must be fifteen inches -long, and fully four inches high, and what funny, nimble legs! They -start off in the same spasm-like way as do the toy lizards we buy for -the youngsters. - -Manuel brings us to the plant house where the great forest wonders of -the Far East are babied and loved into strength, and I could not but -think of Daudet's dear old _Tartarin of Tarascon_, dreaming by the -homesick little baobab-tree, which grew in his window-garden; and of the -long nights under the mellow moon of sunny France; and how he fought -great beasts and achieved great fame in the land of sweet illusion. - -[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO THE SAVANNAH - -Port of Spain, Trinidad - -Copyright. 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Dream on, Tartarin, wherever you may be! The time will come when it will -all be true, and you, too, will rest under the yellow splendour of the -golden trees; and the earth, the great Mother Earth, will open her heart -to you and breathe upon you the spirit of limitless possibilities! - -Good-bye, Manuel! The basket is heavy to carry with its spoils of fruit -and flowers; and we take "turn about" across the savannah. - -The races are on, and horses are dashing around the grassy turf, and the -Trinidadians are yelling, the cricket games are going, and the picnic -parties are gathering up their baskets for home; and the Hindoo girls -clamour to carry our basket, and we gladly give over the load to a tough -little head; and the merry-go-round wheezes out its squeaking tunes, and -we pass through the black crowd, and narrowly escape taking a cab, for -the way to the quay looks long, and we waver and weaken, and are just -about to give in, when up comes a tinkling tram, and we jump in, with a -penny to the Hindoo girl, and rumble away. - -The man with the two monkeys, and the man with the green and blue -parrot, and the boy with the shells, are still waiting. - -Alackaday! Where is the woman with the baskets? - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. LA BREA - - -I. - -We were led to believe, through various accounts from former travellers, -that the excursion to the Pitch Lake would be attended with considerable -discomfort and some hardships. - -After a run of about four hours from Port of Spain, Trinidad, we made La -Brea at two o'clock in the afternoon of a blistering hot day. Fully -one-third of the ship's company were frightened off, while the rest of -us made ready for the much-anticipated expedition. - -It was a funny-looking company that stood at the gangway, waiting for -the first boat ashore. - -Handkerchiefs took the place of collars and ties; coats and vests were, -for the most part, discarded, and all endeavoured to make themselves as -light in wearing apparel as possible. - -The Caribbean Sea, which had, until now, been ruffled only by the -regular sweep of the "trades," was badly tossed by a strong wind, so -that the embarkation in the ship's boat was to me unpleasantly exciting. -The sea was running so high that, in order to reach the boat without -being wet through, we had to gauge our time well and take the jump just -as the boat was lifted to the top of the wave. As we started down the -ship's ladder, with Little Blue Ribbons tightly holding Daddy's hand, -Sister having gone before in the whale-boat with friends, the ship's -mate begged us to leave the Wee One with him. He said the sea was too -rough and the landing too difficult; and besides he would take such good -care of her, and she should have ice cream, and be a little queen all -day,--if she would only stay. So, with some tears, and disdain for -ice-cream, Little Blue Ribbons remained on board; the only time in the -journey thus far when she was not one of the party. - -Had it not been for the confident man, who likes the water, and the -absurdity of the thing, I should have begged to be taken back to the -ship. - -We were in the second boat. The captain had arranged to have the launch -tow us ashore, but the launch--true to the traditions of "oil -engines"--had no intention of towing us ashore; it puffed and popped and -made a great fuss, but would not move an inch. The engineer lost his -steerageway, and it seemed every moment as if the great, clumsy thing -would crash into us; and there we lay, going up and down the side of the -ship, rolling from side to side, and bobbing from bow to stern, in a -very disagreeable situation for those who don't like that sort of thing. - -I know quite well that I was not the only one who would gladly have felt -himself safe on the solid decks of our ship. For once, the incessant -talking had ceased, and our boat-load of people sat there absolutely -quiet, thinking very hard. - -After numerous unsuccessful attempts to make the launch behave, they -gave up the attempt, manned our life-boat with six round-faced, -lubberly, German "jackies," each with a big oar, and went off -independently. - -I was heartily thankful not to have been assigned to the launch, for it -could not compare in sea-going qualities with the boat in which we were -placed. - -As I said, it was a long row to the landing, but we finally reached -smooth water, and disembarked at the end of a long bridge-like pier; -not, however, without some difficulty. - -We were still some distance from shore, which was reached by means of a -narrow board walk, carried along one side of the pier, and bridging over -the shoal water. - -At the quay, a big "down-east" schooner (thank Heaven, there are a few -American merchant vessels left!), two barks, and one full-rigged ship, -were being loaded with pitch, by means of great steel buckets, -travelling on an endless wire cable, which went from the end of the -pier, up an incline, to the works on the hill, near to the great deposit -of pitch beyond. - -[Illustration: THE BEACH OF LA BREA - -Trinidad] - -This ship at the pier was the first full-rigged merchant ship we had -seen during the cruise--most merchantmen seeming now to be rigged as -barks or barkentines--and was, even in spite of its black cargo, a -beautiful sight. There is something in the look of a ship--its mass -of rigging, its straight yard-arms, well set up, its black, drooping -sails, half-furled, its inexplicable riddle of shrouds and stays and -braces and halliards and sheets--that always stirs my soul mysteriously. -Black as this vessel was, prosaic as was her cargo, unsightly the hands -that loaded her, she was a picture. By right, she should have carried -teas, and spices, and silks, and jewels; but she was worthy of -admiration despite her humble calling. - -Once on land, we realised, looking up the long, black hill ahead of us, -and feeling the heat from a blazing sun directly overhead, that the walk -would be a hard one, and that we must go slowly, in order to make it -with any degree of comfort; but walk we must, or stay on the beach. - -The pitch was in evidence immediately. Reefs of hard asphalt ran through -the sandy beach into the sea. The hill was covered with asphalt, and -down near the shore it lay in great wrinkles, where, when the road was -being made, it had overflowed and taken to the hedgeway. It was apparent -under the grass and weeds, around the roots of trees, and in the banana -groves; in fact, there was pitch everywhere, black, oozing, and dull. - - -II. - -Up the hill laboured the little procession of red-faced adventurers, in -all conditions of negligée. The large lady from Kansas puffed and -sweated and mopped her face; the doctor vowed we would die of sunstroke; -the mother and her daughter, from Boston, made the ascent as their -ancestors had stormed Bunker Hill, with features rigid and teeth set; -our neighbour at table, who had been thrice around the world, wondered -what on earth we would think of Manila in the summer-time if we called -this hot; our jolly, delightful friend from New Haven laughed us all the -way up the hill, and said he was suffering with the cold; the German -baron, under his green umbrella, passed us with the superb stride -acquired from his sturdy ancestors and his military training; down the -hill back of us straggled on the rest of the company: the little women, -the tall women, the lean ones, the fat ones, urged and supported by -long-suffering husbands and brothers and friends who mopped and fanned -furiously. - -There were hats of all descriptions: white East Indian helmets built of -pith and lined with green, deliciously light, cool things; and all -conceivable shapes of Puerto Rican hats, of a pretty, fine white palm -"straw," very much like the Panama; and hats from Haïti; and French hats -from Martinique; and then there were Puerto Rican sailor hats, one of -which I wore with great pride. Our shoes were the heaviest we had, and -our clothing the oldest and lightest available. - -Thus all marched on in broken file, with very hot faces, and shaded by -all manner of outlandish umbrellas, over the hot asphalt to the Pitch -Lake. - -As our little party plodded along, going so slowly it hardly seemed as -if we were making any progress at all, my courage began to wane -somewhat, for I remembered most vividly a similar day on the island of -Capri, when I had been overcome by the sun, and in consequence of which -had suffered many months after. With this in my mind, we stopped at a -shanty half-way up the hill, where we saw some bananas growing, tore -off part of a leaf, and asked for some water of a negress, who was one -of many watching the procession with great amusement. In fairly good -English she told me not to wet the head; in fact, by her vociferous -rejection of our plan, we were led to believe that it would be dangerous -to carry it out at all, so we threw away the leaf, and worked on up the -blistering highway to the top of the hill. - -There was not a bit of shade in sight. To right and left, rank weeds and -cacti grew in wild confusion, and with the exception of a few banana -groves, and the huts of negro labourers farther down, there was nothing -of a shade-producing nature along the road. The asphalt was so hot to -the feet that we broke company, and took to single file in among the -weeds on the edge of the road. - -As we approached the summit of the hill, a fine breeze gave us new -courage, and the sight of the Pitch Works, not far distant, dissolved -our fears of the heat into most absorbing interest of the great -phenomenon coming into view. An endless train of buckets, which led the -way up the long ascent, on a wire rope supported at short intervals by -large sheaves on iron pillars, went squeaking along, one row down to the -dock, full of great chunks of pitch, and the other back, empty, to be -filled and started on its round again. - - -III. - -I looked ahead as far as I could, and located our fellow voyagers, now -here, now there,--white dots on the strangest landscape I had ever seen. -I sat down on a barrel of pitch under the welcome shade of a rough shed -in the power-house, and had my first glimpse of the great lake. - -Why it has been called a "lake," I fail to discover; it was probably -named thus by the English. In that case, the matter is explained; it is -called a lake because it is not a lake at all. The Englishman never -seems to understand that the object to be named ought to bear some -slight relation to its appellative. He decides upon a name, and the -unfortunate victim has to fit himself, herself, itself, into its new -form as best he can. If this curious deposit had been called the "Pitch -Bed," there might have been some reason in the naming; some, possibly -not all, but some of the existing physical conditions would have been -suggested to the mind, and the traveller might thus have been able to -form an approximate idea of the phenomenon before seeing it. - -Instead of a lake, you see a vast, flat, fairly smooth, black surface of -pitch, with only here and there small pools of water,--in places, -yellowish; in places, clear,--intersecting the black surface in all -directions. Sometimes they enlarge, and, uniting, cover the surface -quite a distance, and in the centre several feet deep; and again the -intersecting, stream-like pools shrink to mere threads, but, as I said, -the general aspect of the Pitch Lake is a flat, solid, black surface, -covered occasionally with water, the water being only in the crevices -between great masses of pitch that have pushed up from beneath. - -[Illustration: ASPHALT FOR NORTHERN PAVEMENTS - -Pitch Lake, Trinidad] - -We were as yet unconvinced of its carrying qualities, and, not wishing -to run the risk of getting stuck in the pitch, we waited the approach of -one of the trains of little cable-cars, running from the works out on to -the lake, which we could see coming toward us. The brakeman is good -enough to stop, and we pile into the ridiculous little steel cars and -hang on as best we can, while we are sent flying down over a -narrow-gauge track, laid on top of the pitch, to the place where most of -the digging is going on. - -Here a great crew of black men--black as the pitch in which they -stand--with bare feet, all with picks, dig out the wonderful formation, -which breaks off in great brittle pieces. Seeing these men so fearlessly -defying the forces of nature, we gained confidence, and stepped out of -the buckets on to the surface of the so-called "lake;" and although our -feet would sink in a half-inch or so when we stood still, we found that -we could walk everywhere with perfect safety, with the exception of a -few places where the surface seemed to be in big bubbles and disposed to -crack and break away under us. - -It was remarkable to me that the pitch is both viscous and brittle at -the same time. When standing still, the water--thick and yellow, with a -sulphurous odour--would ooze up about the feet and form new rivulets, -which, uniting, would trickle into some near-by pool. There were -innumerable small, crater-like openings, some like air-bubbles in the -sea beach, others, deep, black holes, two and three feet in diameter, -but no appearance of heat or fire. All over the lake, small springs of -yellowish fluid were constantly bubbling up into the pools. The supply -of pitch is apparently inexhaustible, for, after a great trench has been -dug out along these temporary tracks, some four feet deep, and many rods -wide, by the next day the hole will again be so far filled that the -mining goes on as before. - -The manager told us that it had not been found necessary to change the -tram tracks for two years, that the level of the pitch fell only seven -inches last year, after immense amounts had been removed for shipment. - -The depth of this deposit is not known. It has been sounded a number of -times, but it seems to be impossible to find the bottom. I do not know -the exact dimensions of the lake, but, making a rough estimate, should -say that it is half a mile wide, and about a mile long; its extent is -said to be about one hundred and ten acres. The great asphalt deposit in -Venezuela, which has been the cause of so much recent trouble,--through, -I am sorry to say, the quarrels of two American companies,--is thought -by some to be shallower than the one of La Brea, although it is -apparently much larger, being in the neighbourhood of ten miles in -circumference. This Trinidad pitch is also worked by an American -company, under concession from the British Colonial Government. - - -IV. - -It seemed to me that I had never before seen such black pitch or blacker -"niggers." They were a good-humoured lot of men, making no complaint of -the heat, although they worked untiringly, bare-footed, in the hot, -oozing pitch. - -We stopped one fellow, about as black and tattered a figurehead as we -could find, and told him we wanted his picture. He was perfectly -delighted, and struck a very fetching attitude. After the button had -been pressed, we gave him a bit of silver, and then came a howl from a -dozen others for a similar opportunity, all posing for us as fancy -struck them. Seeing that we were obdurate, the fortunate holder of the -silver doubled up with a tremendous laugh, and I can yet see before me -his two rows of glistening white teeth and his wreck of a hat and his -rag of a shirt, and his bepatched breeches. His laugh so exasperated the -others, that one, an elderly gentleman who wore grand side whiskers, -shouted out in tones of deepest sarcasm: "Guess I'd git my picture took, -too, Sam, if I was such a orangoutang as you is!" It seemed as though -they would come to blows, but, had I known the good-humoured blacks -better, I should have had no fear, for their battles, fierce as they -seem, are only words, and usually end in a laugh. - -There are two kinds of pitch: one, pure pitch, dead black, was loaded in -the small cars, and the other, of a light brown colour, was carried off -in dump-carts, drawn by mules. This black pitch forms the basis of all -our asphalt pavements, and such a deposit must be worth millions to the -_concessionaires_. - -Now, when did this mighty process begin, and what internal force is at -work producing this continual outpouring upon the earth's surface? - -[Illustration: LOADING CARS - -Pitch Lake, Trinidad] - -At the farther end of the lake, women and young girls were busy -gathering pieces of wood which were thrown up out of the pitch. I do -not claim to understand this marvellous phenomenon. I would rather put -the question to those of you who have access to the wisdom of libraries, -and give you the privilege of bringing some light upon these strange -manifestations of God's unknowable. As I understand it, pitch is -obtained from tar, boiled down, and tar is a black, viscous liquid -obtained by the distillation of wood and coal, so this residuum which we -see is the third step in one of Nature's great caldrons; a process -millions of years in forming, a process still in operation. - -Is this wood which is continually coming to the surface of the lake an -unused part of that vast primeval forest which was when time did not -exist; when chaos was revolving into form? How long has it been -wandering, and what force is it which sends it thus unharmed, save for -the loss of bark, out again into the light? - -Some very strange implements and tools, recognised as South American -workmanship of a remote day, have come to the surface of this lake, and -one theory for their appearance is, that they have been drawn under the -Gulf of Paria, and up through the lake of La Brea by some unseen, but -mighty power from the lake of pitch in Venezuela, of which this is -supposed by some to be the outlet. - -The wood, gathered by the women, is not petrified, but merely -impregnated with the pitch, and has all its original qualities as when -it first left the parent stem, with, however, the additional affinity -for fire which its pitchy bath would naturally give. - -We were much entertained by the women and children, who stood knee-deep -in the fresh pools at the further end of the lake, doing the washing. -The clothes were laid out on the pitch to dry, and the naked babies -rolled around on the black stuff quite as much at home as our babies are -on the clean nursery floor. The women had on but very little clothing, -or none,--and some of the girls and boys, fourteen and fifteen years of -age, were entirely nude. One young girl, as we approached, modestly hung -a little fluttering rag about her loins, and, thus clothed, was not -ashamed. - -[Illustration: A NATIVE WASHERWOMAN ON THE PITCH LAKE - -Trinidad] - -I have seen more immodesty on the floor of a modern ballroom than ever -from the bare bodies of these black women. But terrible as the -stories are which one hears of the immorality of the West Indies, I feel -that here the evil is less heinous in the coloured races on account of -the primitive nature and conditions of a half-savage people. -Unfortunately this great and degenerating danger to the white -inhabitants is ever present. The pitch lake foreshadows the terrible -conditions of the people in Trinidad and Jamaica; the continual welling -up of this black mass suggests the doom which awaits these beautiful -islands, unless a giant hand is put forth to save them. - -The difficulties of this excursion have been much exaggerated. To be -sure, we had a long walk, but we also had a good breeze most of the way, -and our fellow traveller who, in spite of all warnings, had worn his -immaculate white suit, came off without spot or blemish, notwithstanding -the old proverb about "keeping away from the pitch." - - -V. - -Hot and tired, I left the party, who wished to make the entire circuit, -and took my way over the yielding pitch, over the sulphurous yellow -puddles, until I finally came to the grateful shade of the power-house. -A rickety old carryall looked very inviting, and in no time I had -ensconced myself therein, and leaned back in full anticipatory enjoyment -of a restful quarter of an hour. - -As I sat there, looking out over the distant sea,--for I was on the brow -of a hill,--gradually the unsightly power-house, the pitch cars, the -little huts where bananas were sold, the native shanties, the long, -narrow bridge, even the rim of the canopy above my head, seemed to fade -away into nothing. The ships at anchor had slipped their cables and were -gone; the iron pier, with its busy life, had disappeared; all had -changed, vanished. It was silent, ghostly. - -Then, out of nothing, out of dimness, there came a moving, a forming, a -changing, and I became conscious that I was no longer alone, but that a -company, great and illustrious, was assembling by ship-loads upon the -beach of La Brea; and that, without word or confusion, five ancient, -lofty-sterned, lumbering craft, and a quaint little caravel, lay bow-on -to the strand, while one was already being careened on her side in the -shoal water of the beach by cumbersome tackle fast to her thick -mastheads. Their huge, clumsy hulks were gray with time; their gaping -seams told of hot, blistering suns, and upon their decks there lay an -array of guns and armament, crudely ancient and unwieldy. Silent men -were noiselessly moving about at the command of one most beautiful to -behold, in scarlet cloak, and silken hose and doublet of rare elegance, -with hat beplumed, and glittering sword, who walked amongst the company -as a king. - -To and from the ship there moved a ghostly procession of grimy sailors, -carrying pitch to the beach, where fires were burning, and the venerable -three-deckers were being daubed with the smoking fluid, and made ready -for the high seas. - -It was a merry company, in truth, of lords and gentlemen, and scholars, -too, who came upon my vision, and wonderingly my eyes followed the -gallant leader. It seemed to me that I could all but catch his words. He -spoke with a poet's grace, so full of charm and so deliberate, so -courtly was his address. His face once turned, I knew him to be -English. His fair skin was burned by deep-sea voyaging; his pointed -beard just touched the lace of a deep, white ruff, and over his shoulder -hung a plume, white and curling. In all my life, I had never seen so gay -a gentleman, and I could not get my fill of looking and of wondering. - -Could it be that this great company were the revivified followers of the -dauntless Sir Walter Raleigh, searching, centuries ago, for _El Dorado_? -And it came to me, in that curious mixing of past and present, of which -dreams are made, "Does Sir Walter, with all his wisdom, suspect that -here, where he pitches his ships, is to be the great gold mine--some -later man's _El Dorado_--while he eagerly sails away in futile quest of -golden sands that are always just beyond his reach?" - -I lifted myself to strain my farthest sight, when lo! all was gone; -galleons, gentlemen, scholars, sailors, even the little caravel--all! -The sun was beating down upon the black road, the air was blistering; -negroes were weighing the buckets of pitch, and the machinery clanked, -with deafening indifference, through the quivering air; and up from -behind a clump of bushes a red bow, atop of a well-known white hat, -chased away the phantoms of long ago. I took off my dark glasses, rubbed -my eyes, and, half-dazed, stepped from my enchanted carryall. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE SPANISH MAIN - - -I. - -Steaming out of the Gulf of Paria the day before, away from the muddy -water of the Orinoco, we had come again through the Dragon's Mouth, -close to that long, eastward-pointing finger of South America that forms -one side of this famous gateway, back into the welcome Caribbean Sea. -Thence through the night we skirted the South American coast, passing -the celebrated pearl-fishing island of Margarita--"The Pearl"--where it -was said that a German gunboat with covetous eye had these many months -been making careful surveys and taking elaborate soundings--so -forehanded, you know! And now we were at anchor in the roadstead of La -Guayra, the seaport of Caracas. - -[Illustration: WHERE THE MOUNTAINS MEET THE SEA - -La Guayra, Venezuela] - -Leaning over the rail of the white ship, early in the dawning of that -day, it came to me over and over again that we were at last in the -presence of the great West Indian Mother, and that her face was in truth -an exact realisation of our imaginings. - -A strong breeze blew the waves fast and loose, one upon another, to the -near-lying shore, where a white line of surf circled about a rounding -promontory, and lost itself on the other side of the cliff. Up and -beyond, rose the mountains, and some one said: "The Andes!" and we -looked again, and longer, and said to ourselves--"The Andes,--South -America, we are looking upon them with actual eyes!" - -Up, and still up, rose the mountains; great, tender lines of undulating -softness, all green and blue and gentle and grand, one sweep upon -another of matchless warm tints; one sweep upon another of voluptuous -curves in billowy green, and dropping in and about the contour of the -great continent's majestic form, far disappearing valleys swept into the -dimness of soft, shadowy depths. - -Like a great mother, asleep, spread with a coverlet of the changing -tints of malachite and beryl, South America lay before us. - -Clambering up her skirts were the little white roofs of La Guayra, spots -on her verdant garment,--irregular spots here, there, and everywhere; -now in patches, comfortably huddling together at her feet; now stray -offshoots away beyond. All very square and very Spanish were these -houses, very quaint to look upon; and if this is La Guayra, where is -Caracas? Must we, too, clamber and climb away into those mountain -heights, and, perchance, awaken the Great Mother, who sleeps so gently -under the drowsy lullings of the deep sea? - - -II. - -Things are moving on the shore, and in the distance dots like men and -women stir about the tiny houses, and a toy train toots, and toy engines -rattle, and toy cars seem filling with toy people; and we think it time -to go ashore and see if we can find a seat in one of those cars; so we -run up forward, where our impatient fellow voyagers have been hurrying -into the launch this long time. It has just puffed away, and we are -really glad. - -There is something very like the "stray sheep" in our make-up. It is -Americanism boiled down,--this love of going alone, and being -self-reliant. - -A beamy shore-boat is engaged at one _bolivar_ apiece (negotiations -having been started on a basis of five _bolivars_ apiece, charged by the -boatmen), and we have plenty of room for all, even the Doctor, who is -going with us (for he was just too late for the launch--perhaps, with -malice aforethought); and so we row to the stone steps of the quay of La -Guayra, the port of Caracas, our first landing on the "Spanish Main." - -We have left the land of what we supposed to be our mother tongue, and -are come to a country where we can really be understood, or -misunderstood, according to our abilities to express ourselves, in a -language more constant than English. I take a mental stock, and find -four Spanish phrases which did not fail me in Santo Domingo, and shall -not fail me here. Besides I have been practising them since then! With -these I can fare sumptuously: - -_¿Cuanto cuesta?_ (How much does it cost?) - -_¿Qué hora es?_ (What o'clock is it?) - -_¡Mucho bonito!_ (Very beautiful!) - -_Yo no entiendo._ (I do not understand.) - -This, with a few nouns sprinkled in, was my vocabulary; but I had no -fears,--had we not our own interpreter? - -And the big, strong oars brought us to the landing. Then we girls, in -charge of the Doctor, were stood up in the shade of a warehouse, where -we watched the white uniformed South Americans, struggling with our -obdurate men for their landing charges--for here they charge for the -right to land. Then the men disappeared with the bags, and we waited -what seemed to us a very long time, until, with one consent, we just -thought we wouldn't stay put another minute; so the Doctor takes the -lead with his big white Indian helmet jammed over his eyes, and Little -Blue Ribbons and Sister raise a fine cloud of dust, running on ahead. -But we older ones know what it means to be in La Guayra, so we follow on -very leisurely. On the way, we meet an excited messenger already sent to -hurry us to the train. - -La Guayra is said to be the hottest place about the West Indies, and I -could well imagine how the Great Mother would have to fan her little -white children, when they once really felt the breath of the -unconscionable sun; but, as we walked along, even though the sun had -climbed a few steady hours, we found it far from uncomfortable, even -carrying our heavy satchels, and the white umbrella, besides. - -Along a dusty and sun-stricken water-front, disfigured with railroad -tracks, and low warehouses, we came to the station, where the men, -triumphant, were impatiently waiting, after sending out their belated -relief expedition. Tickets had been bought, gold pieces divided up into -fascinating silver pieces, called _bolivars_ (in honour of the great -South American liberator--accent on the second syllable, if you please), -and all in our lord and master's own Spanish, of which we were justly -proud; and then we find places in the train, and in a few moments after -our arrival we jerk out among the white houses. - -It was a clever bit of forethought--that move of ours to hunt up the -men. Had we not done so, we could never have caught the early morning -train, for the messenger was slow, and we would have become merely a -part of the hot and dependent crowd on the later "special." It's better -sometimes _not_ to stay where you're put. - -We move along at a good pace among the gardens of La Guayra,--rather -sparse gardens they are,--and then we climb to the balconies, and then a -turn and we are hiding about the Great Mother's green petticoats; and -anon we pass up to the roofs of La Guayra,--which reach out like a white -sombrero over the little people below. - -Then the pull begins. Two powerful, stocky, low-built, narrow-gauge -mountain engines haul us along with apparently no effort, up into the -mountains, up a grade which seems to grow steeper every minute. Our men -say that the average grade is over four per cent. I can't see how it is -that men know all these things about grades and percentages. It seems -like such a lot of plunder to lie around in the brain. But--about such -trifles--men must know and women must ask, and that's all there is to -it. - -It is a continuous twisting and turning and winding, seldom on a level -stretch; it's up, up away from the sea from the very start. Now, we are -far above the tree-tops of the town, and our white ship out in the -harbour lies motionless, and seems far away. We wonder at the courage -of the people who would dare so great a feat of road-building, and grow -doubly curious to see the city, hidden beyond in the clouds of the -mountain. - - -III. - -La Guayra lies just above sea-level. In two hours, we must climb over -the Great Mother's back, going thirty odd miles to reach Caracas, which -lies at an elevation over three thousand feet in a valley, only six -miles in an air line from La Guayra. - -Up, up into the thin vapours, into regions of other trees still higher, -whose tops again we pass amongst. The sun is hazy through a translucent -veil of mist, and far away, the white horses of the sea dance up against -the shore and out of sight, and the white sombrero drops beneath an -emerald cloak, and everything but the sky is shut out. - -We jump first to one side of the car and then to the other, for the -sea-view and for the mountains. We are whirled around quick curves, and -all but lose our feet; and some of us--even men--get dizzy looking at -the drop below us; and then we cut through the mountain and hurry on up -the steep climb until the plucky little engine decides to stop, and we -are told that we have reached the summit; and we hurry from the cars and -feel the sweet coolness of the mountains, and the actual presence of the -Great Mother. - -We stand close together on the brink of a chasm and look tremulously -into the depths of her great heart; down, down, a thousand feet and more -of living, breathing green, into every hue of purple and blue, deepening -into black near the far-off valley, and disappearing into azure among -the clouds,--silence, shadow, tenderness, sublimity, overspread by the -ineffable loveliness of morning. - -We are moving again, and now it is down, gradually, for Caracas lies a -thousand feet below the summit. We follow along a white highroad, the -mountain trail from Caracas to the sea. Now we are on its level; now we -leave it. Long trains of pack-mules make a cloud of gray dust against -the green, and here and there a red blanket thrown across a burro's back -brings a delicious bit of life and colour into the passing scene. - -[Illustration: CARACAS AND THE MOUNTAINS - -Venezuela] - -Now we seem to be on the level, and scurry along at a great rate; and -soon there spring up out of the brown earth _adobe_ houses (the first we -have seen since we were in Mexico), and here are more and yet more, and -there, ah! that must be Caracas, the great Venezuelan capital, the -habitation of over one hundred and fifty thousand people! - -But, shall we say it? Must we be honest at the expense of all else? The -approach to Caracas is a disappointment. There is scarcely any kind of a -habitation which gives a landscape quite such a distressful look as the -_adobe_ hut. Built of sun-dried mud blocks, it gives off an atmosphere -of dust with every whiff of wind. It comes to our mind always with the -thought of dry barrenness, heat, sun, dust, shadeless fields of maguey, -prickly _nopals_, broad sombreros, and leather-clothed _rancheros_. And -to see the suburbs of a great city, the outlying habitations, in gray, -crumbling _adobe_, makes an unpleasant impression, in spite of the fact -that, from the distance, we catch a quick glimpse of a peaceful -campanile and high, imposing roofs a bit beyond. There's only time for a -suggestion, but that suggestion biassed all our later impressions. We -steam into the station and begin to pick up our traps and make for the -carriages. - - -IV. - -As we said before, the spirit of independence gained supremacy, when we -were once fairly upon the Spanish Main. Out of many, a few of us escaped -the tourist agent. A courier had been sent from New York, and at every -port we had the privilege of availing ourselves of his guides, -carriages, meal tickets, _et cetera_, if we wished to do so; and for -some it was certainly a great advantage, for, unless one knows some -French and Spanish, one is at the mercy of every shark that swims, and -these waters are full of them, as are all others for that matter. - -We found the prices very high everywhere, with few exceptions; equally -high for poor accommodations as for the better, the reasons whereof, for -the present, must be left unexplained. Suffice it to say, that the -American is his own worst enemy. Nine-tenths of our party thought it -would be unwise to go through South America from La Guayra to Puerto -Cabello on their own responsibility; so our little group were the only -ones to experience the joy and excitement of an independent tour through -a strange country, where English--good, honest, live English--is a rare -commodity. - -The Doctor, and Mr. and Mrs. M---- from Boston, and Daddy were keen for -the experience. I was afraid we might be left away down in South -America, with no train to carry us on from Caracas, for "the personally -conducted" were to have a "special," but my fears were finally allayed -by constant assurances of safety; so independence carried the day. - -Once inside the Caracas station, Daddy disappears, and, after a bit, we -see him beckoning to us from in among a crowd of vehicles, all very -comfortable and well-appointed, and we sidle along among the noisy South -American cabbies, and jump into the selected carriage. - -Now, what was said to the cabby, I'll never know; but we were no sooner -in that carriage than the horses started on a dead run, rattlety-bang, -whackety-whack, jigglety-jagglety, over stones and ruts, through the -city of Caracas. Up the hill we tore, and all I could see from under -the low, buggy-like canopy was the bottom of things sailing by in a -cloud of dust. Every now and then we struck a street-car track on the -wrong angle, and off we would slew, still on the run, with one wheel in -the track and the other anywhere but in the right place, for half a -block or so, and then no sooner well under way again, than we would all -but smash to pieces some peaceful cab, jogging toward us from the -opposite direction. A train of donkeys, coming from the market, on the -way home to the mountains with empty baskets, narrowly escapes sudden -death at our furious onslaught; and I can yet hear their little feet -pattering off and the tinkle of the leader's bell, as his picturesque -little nose just misses our big clumsy wheel. In a jumble we see the -small feet of the passers-by, and so we jerk along until all at once we -stop with a bump at the _Gran Hotel de Caracas_. - -There we wait in the garden while our recklessly independent men seek -lodgings. None to be had! Off we gallop toward another inn, catch -glimpses of a square, stop again, wait in the carriage, and find the -standing still very delightful. In a few minutes, our bold leaders -return with the look we know so well,--jubilant and hopeful. Beautiful -rooms, fine air, clean beds, sumptuous parlours, and all that,--you know -how it reads. - -We enter the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. - - -V. - -May I be forgiven if I leave the path of calm discretion for once, or -how would it do to leave out the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ altogether, -and turn the page to where the mountains begin? But, you see, if we -leave out the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_, we should have to leave out -Caracas, and that would never do at all. - -There was one member of our party who never sat down to a meal that he -did not declare it was the finest he had ever eaten in his life. This -faculty of taking things as they come, conforming gracefully to the -customs of a country, is, perhaps,--next to unselfishness,--the most -enviable trait in the traveller. Well might it be applied, as we begin -the search for our rooms in the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. We climb a -wide, winding, dirty stairway, pass through the sumptuously dusty -parlour, up another flight of the same kind, only narrower and dustier -and darker. An English housekeeper leads the way, and some one exclaims -(Oh, the blessed charity of that soul!): "How pleasant to find a neat -English woman in charge of the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_!" - -It has never been clear to me just what state of mind could have -inspired that remark; whether it was a momentary blindness, occasioned -by the mad drive, or a kind of temporary delirium, from the sudden -consciousness of power over perplexing foreign relations; or whether it -was merely the natural outburst of an angelic disposition, I could never -quite make out. But those are the identical words he used: "How pleasant -to find a neat English woman at the head of affairs in the _Gran Hotel -de Venezuela_." - -The "neat English woman" had dull, reddish, grayish hair, stringing in -thin, stray locks from a lopsided, dusty knot on the top of her head. -She had freckles, and teeth that clicked when she smiled. A -time-bedraggled calico gown swung around her lean bones, and at her side -she carried a bunch of keys, one of which she slipped up to the top into -a wobblety door, and ushered us into our "apartments." - -The "neat English housekeeper" fitted into that room to a dot. It was -gray, and red, and wobblety, and she was gray, and red, and wobblety. - -If it hadn't been for the everything outside, away beyond the balcony -(for, thank Heaven, no Spanish house is complete without one!), no -amount of philosophy could have atoned for that room. It was simply -white with the accumulated dust of no one knew how long. Our shoes made -tracks on the floor, and our satchels made clean spots on the bureau. -Two slab-sided, lumpy beds suggested troubled dreams. Two thin, -threadbare little towels lay on the rickety, dusty wash-stand, and an -old cracked pitcher held the stuff we must call water. A thin partition -of matched boards dividing ours from the next "apartments," rattled as -we deposited our things in various places which looked a little cleaner -than the places which were not so clean. - -Had it not been for the balcony, we could never have endured it; though -we had put up in queer places before. We had not even the satisfaction -of leaning on the balcony rail; it was too dusty. But we could stand, -and we did stand, looking out over and beyond the picturesque buildings, -to the everlasting hills, to the Andes, their lofty summits encircling -us like an emerald girdle, with calm La Silla thousands of feet above -all. - -Below us lay the city and the Square of Bolivar, with the bronze statue -of the great Liberator in the centre, in the midst of a phalanx of -palms, rising above the dust and the glaring white walk. - - -VI. - -To the left, the Cathedral, one compensation at least for all the rest. -What combination of characteristics is it that makes the Spaniard such a -marvellous builder, and, at the same time, such a wretched maintainer? -He builds a Cathedral to be a joy for all time; its lines fall into -beauty as naturally as the bird's flight toward its nest. Whatever he -builds, he builds for posterity; simply, beautifully, gracefully. Even -his straight rows of hemmed-in city houses have a touch of beauty about -them somewhere; and in the Cathedral, his true artistic sense finds -full expression. Close at hand the noble Campanile, swung with ancient -bells, watches in serene dignity and beauty the moving, streaming life -below. Sweet lines, harmonious to the eye, lift the Cathedral from the -hideous dirt and unkempt streets; from the whirling dust and circling -buzzards, to a sphere of forgetfulness, where beauty struggles for the -supremacy she holds with royal hand so long as we continue to gaze -upward. - -[Illustration: EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR - -Caracas, Venezuela] - -But once let our eyes leave the mountains and the Tower, and it all -changes into that other picture, the other side of the life of that -curious compound of traits, the Spaniard. For here, South American as he -calls himself, down deep in his heart he is ever the Spaniard, and -although he has claimed his independence of the mother country these -many years, through the heroic victories of Bolivar and his brave -associates, his characteristics are Spanish, his arts are Spanish, his -life is Spanish; his glorious Cathedral is Spanish, and his horrible -streets are Spanish; his magnificent statue of Bolivar is Spanish, and -the dowdy, dusty garden about it is Spanish. Was he ever intended to be -a householder? Should not his portion be to beautify the earth by his -artistic intuition, and let the rest of us, who do not comprehend the A -B C of his art, be the cleaners and the menders? Is not this a people -left like children to build up the semblance of a government from the -wrong stuff? Will not the world in time come to see that one race cannot -be all things; that some must be artists, and some mechanics; that some -must be leaders, and others followers; that some will be the builders of -beauty, to last for all time, and others must be the guardians of -health, the makers of strong, clean men? - - -VII. - -Why is it that the President's house,--the great yellow house across the -square, shown us by the Minister of War himself to-day,--one of the -homes of Cipriano Castro, the present Dictator, is nothing more or less -than an arsenal, packed to the full with cartridges, muskets, and -rapid-firing guns, and alive with armed troops? How is it that Castro is -said to have laid by a million dollars out of a twelve thousand dollars -a year salary? Why is it that our going into Venezuela was considered by -some unsafe? Why did we shake every bone in our bodies over the upturned -streets and boulders of Caracas? Because the Venezuelan is trying to do -that for which he is not fitted; in which, during all these long years -of constant revolution, he has failed. He, past-master in certain of his -arts, has taught the world his colours and his lights and shades; he has -given to earth notable tokens of his skill in building; but in -house-cleaning--municipal or national--he is out of his element, and -should no more be expected to excel in that line than a babe in arms -should be expected to know the Greek grammar. - -Like all Spaniards he is mediæval in his instincts; he cannot really -govern himself as part of a republic. - -The city of Caracas exemplifies this statement. It is in a horrible -state of dirt and disproportion. Its people are kind and courteous, but -its streets are a nightmare; and over all hovers the strong hand of -military despotism. - - -VIII. - -After dinner our first expedition was to call upon the United States -Minister L---- and his wife, who were occupying the former residence of -Count De Toro, some miles out of the city. And what a drive! - -To move comfortably in Caracas, you must either take the donkey -tramway--which never goes where you want to go--or you must walk. But to -walk a half-dozen miles in the hot sun, on a dusty, stony road, is not -particularly inviting, so, with our respects to the sun, we decide to -drive, and all the way out we wonder why we ever did. And yet, had we -walked, I suppose we would have wondered why we hadn't taken a cab. - -As it was, the dust blew about us from the rolling, bumping wheels in -great clouds, and the big stones in the road sent us careening about -from one side of the carriage to the other. Again we think of Mexico--of -the dust, the parched earth, the _arroyos_, and the saving mountains -beyond. We pass a dried-up river-bed, where women are washing in a faint -trickle of water, and then we wind about the hill and climb up the rocky -way, enter a sort of wood, and come suddenly to the minister's house. - -[Illustration: AN INTERIOR COURT - -Caracas, Venezuela] - -Our nation's arms on the gateway make us feel at home, and we jingle the -bell and send in our cards and wait in the shady court. In a few -moments, Minister L---- appears, and with him Mrs. L----, who bids us -enter her cool, delicious drawing-room, very clean and sweet and -old-fashioned and quiet, though the house is truly Spanish, with wide, -airy rooms and curious pictured walls. The men went off up a flight of -stone steps through the garden to the office, to talk politics and the -"Venezuelan situation," I suppose; while we sat there with the -minister's wife, who told us much of her life and the customs of the -country, and, among other things, how difficult it is for a -foreigner--even a diplomat--to gain access to the real home-life of the -Spaniard; how the women live shut in, and see but little of the world, -only glimpses now and then, never knowing anything of our Northern -freedom. - - -IX. - -The drive back to the city was one continuous round of jolt and bump and -dust. We rattled down and up the streets which, despite their -narrowness and general dilapidation, could not be utterly devoid of -interest, if viewed from the eyes of the lover of wrought-iron handiwork -and graceful handlings of simple and strong elements in building. - -We were told that it was our duty to view the Municipal Palace, and dear -Sister, although I knew she was tired, did not want anything seeable -omitted; so we most willingly left the cabs at the palace door, with the -hope of never having the agony of that ride repeated. - -As the Spaniard builds his cathedral, so does he impart to each -important structure a fitting grace and dignity of style commensurate -with its office. The Municipal Palace is built about a great hollow -square or plaza, which is filled with palms and other similarly -beautiful vegetation. But, oh, dear! oh, dear! the dust! The great -reception-hall, or audience-chamber,--or whatever one might call -it,--was lined with stately gilt chairs and sofas, done up in linen -dusters. The effort of driving and seeing and jolting and being -agreeable had been such a strain that I just thumped down on one of the -wide sofas and spent my time looking about me, while the others -conscientiously made the _grande tour_ from one end of the great room to -the other. - -It is a large oval hall ornamented with some very fine historical -paintings. The Spanish Student had found an obliging officer--for -soldiers are everywhere--and I quietly left the two alone. I thought it -too cruel, after our long drive, to expect him to retranslate for my -benefit, but then there came a faint suspicion in my mind, from a -troubled expression on his face, when the guide launched into the deep -waters of Venezuelan history, with Bolivar rampant and the Spaniards -fleeing, that, possibly, it was not all clear sailing; that, possibly, -this was just the occasion for the last of my phrases. No, I watch the -face; it resumes once more its usual expression of serenity, and I sit -there and think how beautiful it might all be if it were only clean; if -Bolivar could only come back again and teach his children their -unlearned lesson of disinterested self-love of country and home. - -Bolivar appears to have been the only liberator (and each new -"President" who throws out the defeated party and instates himself is -called "liberator") who ever died poor, having spent not only public -funds for the betterment of arts and science and education, but -nine-tenths of his own personal patrimony as well. - -The guide closes the blinds, and our party comes together at the door, -leaving nice little clean spots where they have stood in groups on the -dusty, once highly polished floor, and we turn down the long, wide -balcony to an open door at the end. A brilliantly uniformed, handsome -lad bars admission, for Castro the Great is holding a cabinet meeting -there, and we can see the collar of a black alpaca coat and the back of -a very solemn-looking chair, and hear a low voice speaking,--and that -was all we saw of Castro. - -Some one proposes a drive; some one else suggests the shops, but we -decide to go home. That dear old word sounds lonesome away down here in -South America. Does it mean the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_? Was this the -home; or was it the wide, out-reaching mountains, fading into the deeps -of night; or the Cathedral, rising from the dread below in her sweet -chastity? - - -X. - -Tired bells jangle out the slowly passing time. An ancient carillon -sounds the quarter, an added clang the half, one note more for three -quarters. The long black arms reach to the hour, then another and -another passes, and night brings rest to the Great Mother. But the soft -gentle eyes are no sooner closed than all the children, the white -children at her feet, begin to stir and move, just as yours and mine do -when mother sleeps. - -The old church towers, with sweet grace, wrap about her stately form a -mantle of whitest silver, bordered with great lines of black, and away -above her head, up in God's garden, forget-me-nots and heartsease -blossom out into twinkling spots of starlit beauty. - -The moon rolls languidly on in the gentlest heaven that earth e'er -looked upon. - -Below, beneath God's garden, the white children brighten and awaken from -the drowsy languor of the long day. Lights flare out, doors open, and -streets fill with happy voices, and a white-frocked humanity empties -itself into the Plaza to hear yet again the great Military Band of -Caracas. - -There comes a hush, and then--it must be from the garden away off so -far--there drops a veil,--the veil of forgetfulness, in sounds of music -so inexpressibly tender and alluring as to catch the soul from earth -away up to where white angels gather the forget-me-nots and heartsease. -The crumbling city and its disordered sights, the dust and all -unpleasantness pass away beyond the veil, and all that remains is -covered with the witchery of music. - -To make it real, we, too, join the children and press in close, just as -our little ones do who fear not the expression of their emotions. We, -too, press in where the makers of this wonderful music, sixty of them, -stand in a great semicircle at the head of a flight of stone steps, and -then we listen to the old, eternally old stories of life and love and -joy and tragedy; listen, until our souls are filled to the utmost with -the deeps of life! - -An intermission comes; we take a deep breath; meanwhile he of the -Spanish vocabulary, made bold by enthusiasm, threaded his way to where -the leader of the band was nonchalantly smoking a cigarette, wishing to -congratulate him on the masterful work done by his musicians, and also -to thank him for having just played "The Star Spangled Banner," in -honour of the Americans present. - -Shrugging his shoulders, the bandmaster remarked that his men had almost -forgotten that American thing, as it was twelve years since last they -played it! Thus does the Venezuelan show his love for these United -States. But we forget that in the charm of the reawakened melody, for it -is the kind of music that speaks real things; that brings the great -forgetting of things visible; that brings the great remembering of -things eternal. Mellow notes, as from the throat of a blackbird, slip -through the liquid night as softly as the splash of feathered warblers -in the cool water brooks, and when the strong word is uttered, it comes -forth like the voice of a seer, unjarring, made strong through great -tenderness. - -Closer and closer we press to lose not the slightest note, and we -realise that it is the music which comes to our cold Northern senses but -once in a lifetime, and our ears plead for more and yet more. No strings -could ever have so mellowed themselves into the loveliness of that night -as did those liquid oboes, whose sylvan tones filtered through our -senses with ineffable sweetness. The wood and brass seemed to have been -tempered by long nights of tears and days of smiles, so ripened were -they into an expression of the soul of humanity. - -At last the Great Mother sleeps, her children are tired and go to rest, -and God's garden blossoms away, away off beyond in the far country. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS - - -I. - -The choice lay between a luncheon on board our vessel down in the hot -harbour of La Guayra, with President Cipriano Castro and his suite -invited as guests of honour by the German officers, or an added day in -Caracas; and then a glimpse of South America on our way by Valencia to -Puerto Cabello, where we would again take ship. The question was -well-discussed, _pro_ and _con_, and finally decided in favour of -Venezuela, the country _versus_ Castro, its dictator. After all, General -Castro was not so very different from the other Venezuelans all about -us, except in that great element, his personal success for the time -being; and then you know we did see his alpaca coat and the back of his -chair, and we heard his voice in the council-chamber,--at least we -thought we did,--and that really ought to be enough to satisfy any one. - -In a way, we did feel satisfied, and yet there was a lingering -inclination toward that luncheon. It might be that, for once, the great -man would look, act, appear just a little different from the every-day -sort. It was only a remnant of the everlasting hope for a perfect -adjustment of mind and body,--that futile phantasmagoria which would -make the great man great in all things. And to give up and leave Castro -in a common, every-day alpaca coat,--and only the back of it at -that,--when we might see him in gold lace and gorgeous uniform, well, it -was too bad; but then old common sense comes lumbering along and spoils -the whole thing, and tells us it's no use, no use at all, mourning over -the impossible; he's only a man, and a little man at that, and there are -plenty of fine men all over the world, and there's only one South -America; and so and so on, until the balance weighs so heavily against -the Castro faction that, when the time came to take the train for La -Guayra, we divided the party, sent the little girls back to the ship -with our friends, and turned ourselves loose upon the sunny streets of -Caracas. - - -II. - -We had no guide-book, no one told us what to do, no one seemed to know -what we ought to do; so, freed from all restraint, we had the delightful -sensation of unlimited liberty. - -It was Ash Wednesday and the church-bells rang incessantly. We took to -the left, passing the Cathedral, whose black shades enveloped one after -another of the faithful, and kept straight on, to where the women in -white frocks and lace mantillas, and the black serving-girls with -baskets, and the small boys, and trains of burros were streaming down in -the direction of the market. Most naturally we join the procession, now -in the street, with the cabs and carriers of all sorts of things, and -now jostling in among the people on the narrow sidewalk of the shady -side. - -We have no intention of telling about the flies and the smells and the -dirt. They were all there and can easily be pictured, and we really have -no intention of staying but a moment in the market, for we have seen so -many before; but once a part of the big throng of buyers and sellers; -once fairly free from the South Americans who insist upon speaking -English, once free to use our own laboriously acquired Spanish, we stay -on and on, buy and eat all sorts of curious fruit, until we fear for the -consequences, and are delightfully uncomfortable and happy. - -It was a surprise to find in Caracas a market which surpassed in -varieties and quantities any other place we had ever seen. - -Caracas, with its abortive palms, its dusty, dried-up appearance, gave -one the impression of unproductiveness; and the dinner of the night -before, with meat, meat, meat,--an exaggerated Trinidadian affair--led -us to expect anything but fresh, sweet, delectable fruits; but here they -were in masses! We had searched every port for pineapples, and these -were the first ones we had found which answered to our ideals formed -years ago by the pineapples of Amatlan and Southeastern Mexico. And such -dear little thin-skinned refreshing limes! I wonder why they are not -exported more freely in place of the big, thick-coated lemons? I suppose -the impression prevails that the American wants everything on a big -scale, so he gets the big lemon in place of the dainty aromatic lime. -There we found in great abundance all the fruits with which we had grown -familiar on the islands, but more surprising, the fruits of the -temperate regions as well. There were some queer kinds of melons, too. -We tried them, of course; we tried everything, buying here a slice of -pineapple for _dos centavos_, and over at another stall a _medio's_ -worth of mangoes; then we take up a piece of a curious fruit and examine -it rather suspiciously. Its meat is yellow and covered with little black -seeds, just the size and appearance of capers, and when one eats it, the -seed is the only element of flavour. It has so exactly the taste of -water-cress that one needs to use considerable will-power to believe it -is a melon, and not a salad. - -Here were grapes, both white and black, and sweet and sour lemons, and -all sizes of oranges. There were peaches and apricots, and curious -little apples, about the size of a small crab-apple; and delicious -little Alpine strawberries from away up in the Andes, and then there -were in every stall mangoes, and sapodillas, and granaditas, and -pineapples sweet as honey and luscious, and curious aguacotes and -zapotas and many unknown fruits--besides the ever-present cocoanut. - -And vegetables! I only wish we could tell you the names of all the -aromatic herbs and green stuffs spread out to tempt us. But there was -one thing we did recognise at first sight: the beans--nine different -varieties in one stall and maybe as many more in another--"_frijoles de -todas clases_," the market-woman announced for our encouragement. A -procession of bulging baskets crowds us along out of the market, and we -move on to make room for a stream of empty baskets coming from the -opposite direction. - - -III. - -We take a straightaway course down toward the ever-beautiful curves of a -massive old church, some blocks off, and on the way, with the wanderer's -prerogative, step into the open door of a fine modern building, -apparently a bank. The Spanish Student walks up to a grilled window in -the court to get an American gold piece changed into Venezuelan -bolivars and is at once invited to enter. The president and -vice-president of the bank were at conference in a finely appointed, -spacious office, and as we appeared, both greeted us most cordially and -addressed us in perfect English. The weather started the ball of -conversation rolling, and from that we chatted on about the voyage, and -the islands, and all sorts of things; and then the men launched into a -discussion of the political situation, and from that to the power -Germany was acquiring in a mercantile way in their country. And they -told us how the Germans came there with their families, and taught their -children from babyhood the language and customs of the South Americans, -at the same time holding firmly their grasp of the mother tongue and the -thrifty business methods of their home concerns. Thus given from infancy -this advantage of a thorough knowledge of the language and customs of -the country, they acquire a prestige with which no amount of ability in -a foreigner can compete should he be less ably equipped. How dangerous -to America is becoming this Teutonic power and prestige we do not -realise, for who can fathom the ambition and persistency of the Kaiser -and his subjects in South America--Germans all, though thousands of -miles from Berlin? - -I could but admire the facility and ease with which these South American -men of affairs expressed themselves in English, and I thought, how few -there were of us who could thus readily express ourselves in Spanish. It -came to me forcibly that the American who is truly far-sighted, is the -one who is acquiring, and having his children acquire, a good speaking -knowledge of Spanish; for the time is surely coming when our need of -Spanish will be far greater than to-day. The time is coming, if we guard -our interests aright, when these South Americans will look to the North -for a closer bond than now exists, and when that time does come, the man -most potent in the new relation will be he who can, by a knowledge of -the language, customs, and habits, place himself in perfect sympathy -with his South American brothers. And we must remember, too, that we are -dealing with men whose education is based upon the time-honoured culture -of an old world, men of attainment, of polish and policy, of strength -and power; however much that power may be at times misguided, there is -latent great force and adaptability. - -The South American is a man of marked and strong mental ability, and is -already--and for that matter has for years been--modelling his laws -after those of his more fortunate younger brother of the Northern -continent. It is not in proper law and forms of government that he -lacks, but in their proper enforcement, and back of all in the muzzling -of that healthy public interest that would demand their enforcement. -However much he fails in government, the time when his country will be -dispassionately ruled by fixed and just legislation is hoped for by such -men as the officers of this bank. For how can the country's business go -on amid the turmoil of ever-impending revolution? - -These West Indian Islands and South America, combined, have been used by -all nations who have profited by their marvellous productiveness merely -for what can be gotten out of them through one resource and another; -even North Americans themselves are not above reproach in their quarrels -over the Venezuelan Pitch Lake concessions, which was then a subject of -keen interest. But in spite of the fact that some Americans have been -feathering their nests from this foreign down, still I believe that our -people will eventually lead the world in true philanthropy,--the -philanthropy of development and honest business methods, and that ours -should be the hand that brings to the South American the solution of his -great difficulties; directed not to annexation of these Southern lands, -but to helping in the evolution of a stable, self-respecting independent -government. - -South America is waiting for the great hand, for the great liberator of -the land from the faults and follies of its own sons, and when he comes -he will find a country rich to overflowing in unrealised possibilities. -The curse of these countries seems to be in the love of the Spanish -American for political intrigue, which periodically bears fruit in the -bogus political "liberator," throbbing with meretricious and -self-seeking ambition which he bombastically labels "Patriotism." - -[Illustration: CATHEDRAL AND PLAZA - -Caracas, Venezuela - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -If you had stood face to face with two such well-poised types of -conservative South Americans as we met that morning, I feel sure that -you, too, might hope for a great future for this country, could it but -be represented and led by its best men. - - -IV. - -With courteous good wishes, we left the señors' pleasant company, and -went on, still in the direction of a church-tower. The shops were far -from interesting, much like others down in the islands, with the -exception of a chocolate-shop, which we found to be the sales office of -a factory where a great deal of prepared chocolate is made, for Caracas -is a great chocolate market. After we had filled our pockets with all we -could carry, of chocolate blocks and chocolate fishes and chocolate -dolls, we started on again, munching the chocolate as we went, until we -came at last to the Cathedral, which was in a state of mortar and lime -and scaffolding, due to having the cracks from last October's earthquake -doctored up in the same matter-of-fact way that we clean house in the -spring. - -Well, we were glad at last to have seen the inside of the Cathedral, for -even without the suggestion of a guide-book, we had in a sort of way -felt that we ought to do so; such a slave of "Ought" does the traveller -become, in spite of utmost precaution. - -By this time the sun was nearing noon, and we naturally turned in the -direction of the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ as the only available place -in which to rest; that is, I thought it was the only available place, -but the Spanish Student knew better. How he knew, or when he had -experimented, he would not say, nor could the truth be forced or dragged -from him, as he walked on toward the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_; but I -had a suspicion, from the decided click to his step, and a lurking joy -in his eye, that he had forsaken the Gran Hotel de Venezuela; that he -had discovered a new Arcadia, and, oh! it was so delightful to feel that -it was not the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. Then he stopped at a -lattice,--I am sure there wasn't a door in the house--at the lattice of -an enticing _Dulceria_, and we sat down where it was cool and quiet, and -I waited to see what would happen. _El propietorio_ appears. At once, at -the sight of the Spanish Student, the señor smiles, and disappears. They -had met before. The señor enters once more,--for we are not to be left -to an ordinary waiter,--this time with two tall glasses,--very tall, -thin glasses. - -If you could only have felt the fatigue of that moment! We had tramped -about three hours, under the high, white sun, with the drowsy spell of -noon creeping stealthily over the city, and even over the insatiable -tourist; if you could have been with us to have seen the two tall -glasses, filled to the brim, placed on the table by mine host himself, -you, too, would have concluded that it was no small matter to be thus -refreshed. It looked like lemonade, and yet it didn't, and it -tasted,--well there's no other explanation possible; it was bewitched. -Mine host had crossed his heart, looked twice over his right shoulder, -turned three times on his left toe, and then pronounced the spell. - -One taste convinced me that it took a lot of things to make that -lemonade,--a lot of things besides limes and water, and whatever that -lot of things was, it was the finest combination I had ever known. Mine -host pronounced it lemonade; so did the Spanish Student, though I heard -him suggest "_un poquito de Rom Imperial_" to the señor. With one taste, -all fatigue took wings, everything took wings. The bent-wood table -capered off with the bent-wood chair, and the long, fly-specked mirror -cavorted from side to side with the parrot-cage. Everything was lovely -and undulatory, and life was one long oblivion of the red-headed -housekeeper at the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. - -He, the one opposite, leaned back and looked amused and satisfied, and -said: "There's more coming." - -"What, more lemonade?" - -"No, not more lemonade, but more of something else." - -And then it came. Again two tall glasses of a delicious rose-coloured -ice, made of fresh wild strawberries, gathered that morning among the -glistening dew of the Andes. In the centre of the ice, like the rakish -masts of a fairy's ship, two richly browned, delicate tubes of sweetened -pastry bore the ensign of our feast. - -They reminded me of the lamplighters we children used to make at a -penny a hundred, on winter evenings by the crackling coal fire. - -You remember? Or have you never had the fun? - -You take a bit of paper an inch wide and twelve inches long, wet your -finger, give a queer kind of twist to one corner and up it rolls, in a -long, neat shape. Double it over at the end, and there you are. -Sometimes it unwinds, and then it is exactly like the confectioner's -roll in Caracas, only white instead of a rich, luscious brown. - -From that moment on, all other attractions of Caracas, the University, -the _Casa Amarilla_, the Pantheon, palled in attraction before that -_Dulceria_. It became to us, and to every one we met, the loadstone of -Caracas. To taste of an ice made from berries picked among the valleys -of the Andes is no small matter, and to quaff a lemonade which, without -suspicion, could still fashion wings at least as lasting as those of -Icarus of old, is also no small matter, and may we not be forgiven and -no questions asked if we confess to more than one return to the -_Dulceria_ shop just across the Plaza in Caracas? - - -V. - -Four o'clock was the hour appointed for the coming together of our -diminished party, and until then the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ was -supposed to hold me in its ancient decrepitude, and it did hold me until -about three o'clock; when the bells set up such a clanging, and were so -zealous to get me up and out of bed and into their mid-afternoon -vespers, that I finally yielded to their summons, and, making a hasty -toilet, stole down the creaking stairs and out into the streets. - -No Northern city at midnight is more soundly asleep than the tropical -town in mid-afternoon. The heavy white blinds are down, the green -lattices closed tightly, awnings dropped close before the shop-doors; -while the cabby and his horse, on guard near the Plaza, doze in willing -slumber. The market is empty, the little donkeys are long since browsing -upon the green slopes of the foot-hills; the street criers are still, -the whole world seems dead asleep, and, as I slipped along toward the -Cathedral, the drowsy chanting of priests' voices was the only sound -which broke the quiescence of that delicious afternoon. For delicious -it was, in truth. All of God's part was in its perfectness. The air was -sweetly cool and refreshing, with a flavour of mountain ozone mingled -with the sunlight, and, as I came to a cross street, looking up the long -narrow, white reach to the foot-hills, it was with a bit of imagining, -like a glimpse through the tube of a huge kaleidoscope, with the green -and purple and blue and yellow mountains an ever-changing vista of -resplendent colour in the vanishing distance. - -The priests' voices called out again, and I entered the high-domed, -sweet place of worship. The chancel and altar were being repaired, so it -was in the oblong nave that the priests, white-robed, rich with lace and -embroidery, sat in ancient carved chairs, saying in responsive chants -the words decreed for Ash Wednesday. The priests were old, and some were -very feeble, and it seemed at times an effort for them to rise when the -service demanded. A number of young men, of lesser dignity, assisted, -and two little acolytes in red sat quite at the end of the row of -priests. Still the chanting goes on and on, and the voices are -monotonously sleepy, and long drifts of mellow, shaded light drop down -on the white robes, and one of the priests yawns, and the little acolyte -nods, and then goes fast asleep; and up overhead the lofty dome reëchoes -the somnolent voices, and I hear the old bells telling me about four -o'clock, but they seem very indistinct and sleepy and uninterested. And -I feel sleepy and nod, and wonder if it's the priests' voices or the -bells that put everybody to sleep, and I forget all about four o'clock -until a workman way down near the altar, perched on a high ladder, -mending more cracks, knocks off a piece of plaster, and I start and look -around, then tiptoe out; while the bells tell me that the quarter-hour -is gone with the rest of the day. - - -VI. - -Caracas is responsible for a decided turning about from some of my -former estimates of the Spanish character. It is not necessary to say -just exactly what these preconceived opinions were, but they were there, -and as I supposed, a fixture. In the children's neighbourhood brawls, I -have noticed frequently that, whenever vengeance was to be meted upon -some offending head, he was called by one and all, "a Spaniard." That -was enough to arouse all the wrath of his youthful spirit into -rebellion, and until the word was recalled, war reigned. This of course -is largely since our late trouble with Spain. I shall not say that the -use of the word exactly represented my state of mind toward the South -Americans, but, in spite of the many pleasant experiences of years gone -by in Mexico, I shall confess to a somewhat allied feeling with regard -to that name, and to all people who are in any way affiliated with the -race, and I dare say that something of this same prejudice has existed -among our people at large for some time, and not altogether without -cause. - -To have that impression partially removed was one of the results of an -evening spent at the opera in Caracas, where General Cipriano Castro had -arranged an especially fine performance to be given in honour of the -North Americans then visiting his republic. The opera-house was -decorated in our nation's colours, intertwined with the yellow, red, and -blue of Venezuela, and every seat not taken by our party was occupied by -the representative citizens of Caracas. The performance--a light, comic -opera--was of excellent standard, and passed off with great applause. -Much as we enjoyed the music, the Venezuelans themselves were our -greatest object of interest. - -The house was apportioned in the usual foreign style, with two tiers of -boxes circling on either side from the President's box in the rear -centre. The women, as usual, occupied the front seats in the boxes, and -were thus in a position to be seen and observed very closely. And -never--I make no exception, no exception whatever--have I seen such -modest, womanly appearing women as were present at the opera that night. -They did not giggle nor stare nor flirt. They were richly, beautifully, -becomingly gowned, but, although arrayed with a desire to please, they -were as modest and unassuming as a lot of little girls at a doll's -tea-party. Their eyes no sooner met yours than they dropped,--not -affectedly, but naturally, naïvely,--and it was impossible to refrain -from forming an opinion of the conditions of society from the faces and -actions of these women. - -Women make society what it is; they make it right, high, true, and -pure; they make it wrong, low, false, and vile, and the general -appearance and actions of the women of a country, studied by an observer -of human nature, will tell more truthfully the moral condition of a -people than any book ever written. - -Whatever faults the Spaniard may have bequeathed to his descendants; -whatever his failings in government and kindred problems, the women, -these beautiful women of Caracas, made us feel that they had set for -themselves high standards of morality; that the social life was away -beyond the level we had expected; that the family--the wife--is a sacred -trust given the man to protect in honour and virtue so long as he lives. - -There is, no doubt, much to be said against the rigid life of seclusion -led by the Spanish women, but there is this to be said in its favour: it -has created a race of men who honour and respect their homes, a race of -men whose attitude toward women is universally respectful and -deferential. With all our stiff-necked New England self-sufficiency, we -have yet much to learn, we women of the North, and let it not be beneath -our dignity to remember that the South American women have some lessons -learned which we have yet to master; and perhaps there are none who -could teach us more gently or more effectively than the modest, womanly -women of Caracas. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS TO PUERTO CABELLO - - -I. - -And now we are at the railway station, headed for Valencia and Puerto -Cabello, still determined to continue unguided back to the coast. - -There was to me something so extraordinary in the thought that, for -once, we were really to get ahead of the professional guides, that it -required repeated and oft repeated assurances to at least one of the -women of our circle from the kindly official at the railway station, to -relieve all doubts as to the wisdom of our plans. Of course, the men of -our party had no doubts, at least, none were expressed; and yet some of -us, particularly the writer, could hardly believe that the train we were -to take would carry us on through Valencia, past the lovely Lake of -Valencia down to Puerto Cabello, a half-hour in advance of the Special -Train with the Special Courier; that we would be a half-hour earlier at -luncheon in the mountains, and a half an hour earlier that evening in -reaching Puerto Cabello; and this latter would be no small consideration -after a long, hot ride from mountain-top to sandy beach. - -But this was to be the case, so the official informed us, not only in -Spanish, but in French, and very perfect French, too--for not -understanding Spanish, we women of course had to hear it all over again -in French; so we left the party, and boarded the regular morning train -for Valencia, amidst the warnings of many, the doubts of all the timid -ones, and the envy of a few jollier spirits. What would become of us, if -this train should make up its mind not to go through to Puerto Cabello, -and drop us at La Victoria, or San Joaquin perhaps; and what if the -much-lauded Special should after all fly on and leave us in the -mountains, high and dry, a half-day's journey to Puerto Cabello, with no -means of reaching the ship on sailing-time; and what if our pretty boat -should sail away to God's country, and leave us literally stranded, -marooned for weeks, on the sun-blighted beach of Puerto Cabello, -waiting for a ship? - -[Illustration: A HOUSE BESIDE THE SEA - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela] - -A thousand "ifs" are flung at us, but there stands the big, handsome -South American railway official, with a rose in his buttonhole, patent -leathers on his feet, and a smile on his face, and visible support in -every attitude of his fine body; so we settle down, reassured, and look -around to count heads, and we check off--all but one, the Doctor,--he is -not at the station. Where is he? Where is the Doctor? He has sworn to -stand by us to the end; in fact had been one of the prime movers in this -venture, and here we are ready to start, even the men are aboard the -funny little train, and the Doctor not in sight. - -Ten anxious heads lean out from ten abbreviated windows; ten distressed -voices ask in all available tongues, "Where is the Doctor?" We ask the -official--the one with the rose--if he has seen one called the Doctor, -with bland, smiling face, round and jovial; blue eyes, light hair, -walking with a confident, easy swing, wearing a linen suit and East -Indian pith helmet. No one answering that description had come to the -station. Fully half an hour before we left the _Gran Hotel de -Venezuela_, the Doctor had taken a cab, so that there should be no doubt -or question as to his being on time; for the Doctor was an orderly man, -of decided opinions and exact habits. He was never known to be late at -an appointment. He had with him the free untrammelled air of the -unmarried man. He had neither wife to detain, nor sweetheart to beguile -him. He was a free-lance, and yet here it was, a moment before the time -for departure, and the Doctor nowhere to be seen. - -The train shivers, quivers, gives a bump or so, squeaks out a funny -foreign whistle, and we are moving out of Caracas. Ten of us instead of -eleven. Ten much troubled wanderers, thinking and wondering a very great -deal. We pass the curious little chapel upon the hill, with its five -disjointed little steeples, looking as if one more quake of the grand -old Mother would topple them all over for good; pass the low _adobe_ -huts on the outskirts of the city, and then catch a last glimpse of the -Cathedral and its dear old bells, and the trees about the Square of -Bolivar; and are almost into the rich country, outlaying the great -city. But where is the Doctor! Had he been beguiled or waylaid, or had -he waited for one too many a sip of the unforgettable lemonade; or had -he gone to sleep with the priests under the magic of the old bells? - -No, nothing seemed to fit in just right. The Doctor had reached years of -discretion, he knew the wiles of women, and, as for being waylaid, that -was hardly possible, for he always carried his chest high; and, as for -the priests,--no, it was not the priests, for the Doctor had paid his -respect to the Cathedral the day before. Hadn't we seen his white hat -disappear under the big, open doorway as we were on the way to market? -But the lemonade,--there was the hitch; he might have longed for one -more glimpse of the _Dulceria_, and the tall glass and the indescribable -nectar,--_con un poquito de Rom Imperial_,--yes, he might have done so, -any normal being might have done so, and that must be the whole trouble; -then, just as we had decided on the lemonade, we stop at Palo-Grande, -out in the gardens beyond the town, and into the car rushed a red-faced, -very mad American, with satchels and luggage and souvenirs in his hands, -and rage upon his face,--the Doctor; none more--none less,--the lost -wanderer! - -If any one was ever welcome, he was. We figuratively threw our arms -about him, and wept with joy at the return of our long-lost brother. The -Doctor's face was a study. From despair, it changed to delight, and he -flung himself into a seat, too happy to speak. But the Doctor was not -slow in giving us an explanation. He had been experimenting on some very -choice, newly acquired Spanish. That was the trouble, and instead of -taking him to the city station, the cabby, probably anxious for a good -fare, had driven about five miles to the first way-station on the road. -I did not think the Doctor could ever have been disconcerted under any -circumstances, but he was as thoroughly scared as one has need to be and -live; and for the rest of the day, every few minutes, he would break out -with some forceful expression about fool Americans who couldn't speak -Spanish and fool Spaniards who couldn't speak English. We all then and -there decided that we would learn Spanish or die. One or the other we -are sure to do. - - -II. - -It is a difficult matter to engage the Doctor in either scenery or -conversation, and, in spite of all the wonders in which we find -ourselves, as the plucky little train hurries along, it is a sort of -laugh and jollification all the way with the Doctor. - -I shall never forget the willows at the station where our Doctor -appeared. They were so exquisitely graceful and beautiful. They were -tall, with somewhat of the habits of the Lombardy poplar, close-limbed, -sinewy, and with the plumy grace of a bunch of feathers, bending, -bowing, whirling, swishing, in the cool mountain air, and I shall always -think of them as the Doctor's willows; for just as his frightened face -popped into the door, in the twinkling of an eye, I glanced out of the -window, and there stood that row of tall willows, like coy, young -maidens, bowing their gentle heads in graceful congratulation. The -Doctor's willow was to me one of the rarest, sweetest trees of that -wonderful day of trees, of that wonderful world of trees, of that -wonderful land of infinite beauties, known only to those whose eyes have -touched the vibration of their being. This willow, modest, unassuming -as it is, so unlikely to attract attention, without flower or colour, -other than the richest green that sunshine ever bestowed upon a leaf, -was in its way as exquisite as a dream of lace and dew-drops, as tender -as the sound of a lute, as sweetly sinuous as the drop of a violet's -head; and the mountain air, filtering through the thin, arrow-like -leaves, was music fit for gods,--not men. - -But the Doctor would not look at the willows, nor at the tall -grass--tall--tall--tall--following along the bed of a limpid stream--the -Guaira--tumbling along over pools and rocks and mossy beds; grasses so -high that even Jack's famous giants must needs stand on tiptoe to peep -over the top; grass twenty to thirty feet high, with feathery plumes -gracing the tall spires in masses of waving beauty. He would not see the -beauty of the picture that the Great Mother showed us, for he was still -in a dazed state of combined bewilderment, anger, and joy, and you know -it takes time to find one's feet after such an experience. - -But did I tell you how as usual bravery was rewarded? When we boarded -the train, we noticed our coach was unusually fine for a Venezuelan -railway, and we wondered at it. Later the conductor explained that it -was the private car of the general manager, all the common coaches being -taken up to complete the Special Train; and so the Doctor was at last -content. - - -III. - -Speeding along over the lordly plateau beyond Caracas, through a country -where the faintest effort on the part of man to cultivate the earth, the -least scratch with the hoe, meets with more than abundant response, -where, even in the high mountain altitude, sweet fields of cane and -coffee bring restful green and delicious shades in the ever-pervading -sunlight, we were entertained by some of the party, who were prophesying -a hard day and a hot day with a relish which was quite enviable. Why is -it that there must always be those who are constantly anticipating hot -weather? It seems to be out of the question to escape them; they either -predict that it will be, must be, unbearably hot, or unbearably cold, -according to the latitude in which they happen to be found. There seems -to be no way of getting along comfortably with the present. So we -listened while dire forebodings were omened for Valencia, and worse for -Puerto Cabello. - -In the meantime one of our friends,--Mrs. M---- from Boston,--was -suffering with a severe headache, and the Doctor, who had been in the -seat ahead of us, was asked if, in that small, black, professional-looking -valise, there was not something to relieve her pain. And then the Doctor -broke forth once more: - -"There's no use. I can't stand this any longer. I was called up last -night for the sick man in the after-deck stateroom; after each port I am -asked to prescribe for men suffering from swizzle jags, and I'm routed -out at all hours, and buttonholed by nervous women I don't know. I wish -I could help Mrs. M----; nothing would make me happier. But to tell the -truth, I'm not a doctor. I am only a plain business man--a manufacturer. -Somehow, when the passenger-list was made up, I was put in as 'Doctor -S----' and the list was printed and circulated before I knew of my -title. Then every one called me 'Doctor,' and it was such an easy name -to catch that I thought I'd just let it go, and I've been 'Doctor' to -every one ever since; but when it comes to setting a leg or curing a -headache, I must put an end to it." - -But the name had become fixed. It was there to stay, so the Doctor was -the "Doctor" in spite of his lack of diploma, and, in one sense, by his -good cheer, his readiness to join in fun, his stock of good stories, and -his consideration for others, he was quite as beneficial to our -sometimes weary selves, as if he carried his pockets full of bitter -tonic and invigorating elixirs. - - -IV. - -In front of us sat the Doctor; back of us sat a young South American -from "up country," with whom we entered into conversation, and from whom -we learned much to confirm our rapidly forming opinions of his great -country--Venezuela. He spoke English well, having been educated -partially in England, partially in New York. He came from the Province -of Colombo, to me a very indefinite, remotely hidden-away place -somewhere in the Andes, accessible only by two or three days' journey -from Caracas, partly by mule and partly by boat up the Maracaibo River. -By the way, we are told that Colombo is the native state of that peppery -little dictator--the present President Castro. - -This South American gentleman had been sent to Caracas to interview -Castro and his ministers with regard to a loan of twenty thousand -dollars in horses, cattle, and provisions made during the last -revolution to the faction which had placed Castro in power; the -transaction had evidently been dignified by the soothing name of "a -loan" because the quondam cowboy leader Castro had ended as a -self-elected President. Just what our fellow traveller's success had -been, we were unable to learn or he to tell, for this same General -Castro is a wily bird and keeps many an honest Venezuelan guessing. He -told us what we already knew,--that Venezuela needs peace--peace--peace, -and that, until she is assured of peace, her great hands must be idle. -We needed no words to assure us of her greatness. It was there before -us. The idle hands were clasping rich harvests unsown, rich treasures in -gold and silver glittered upon her fingers, and following the sweep of -her green mantle, there was a race of warm-hearted children, within -whose being there was the making of great men and women. But there must -be peace. For, when there is war, her great men go to the front, her -brave men are killed; but in some unfortunate way her political schemers -and professional revolutionists survive, and are always ready to make -new trouble. "He who fights and runs away will live to fight another -day." - -And so they run away--the unsuccessful ones--to Curaçao, to Paris, or to -some of the neighbouring South American states, but their dirty shadows -ever hang imminent on the horizon. - - -V. - -During the conversation with our South American friends, we had reached -the end of the plateau, and the descent began into the great valley -below. It was not until we reached that point that we realised the -wonder of this Venezuelan railroad, or that we understood the reason of -its being called the "Great Venezuelan Railway"--_Gran Ferrocarril de -Venezuela_. Like the greater portion of all the business enterprises in -South America and the West Indies, the railroad was built by Germans. -Krupp, of gun fame, was named as the head of the company, and too much -cannot be said of the courage and skill of men who undertook to build a -road under such difficulties. There are railways of difficult -construction all over the world, indeed, but never, in our experience, -were we more impressed with the magnitude of an undertaking than we were -with the construction of this masterful road; though one might well -criticise the business judgment of men who would thus put millions of -dollars into an enterprise that apparently can never be self-supporting. -Think of it, eighty-seven tunnels through rocky mountain spurs, one -hundred and twenty heavy steel bridges between Caracas and Valencia, -miles of rock-cutting and costly filling, and all this to carry a -handful of passengers and a few tons of freight each day--altogether not -enough to load one of our "mixed trains" in the States! - -It follows where cataracts leap a thousand feet, where rivers boil in -thundering roar over mighty rocks; it cuts the mountain top asunder and -dashes through the rock-hewn lap of earth; it drops down through the -tops of giant trees, and robs the morning of her mist; it mingles with -the clouds, and anon kisses the feet of the ocean--but it doesn't pay -dividends. - -From its heights, the earth stretches out in wonderful ridges of -gigantic proportion; geography becomes real, a fact, seen in the great -perspective. The air is so clear that the eye seems to have new power of -vision to reach to the uttermost end of the earth; the eye imparts to -the soul its larger horizon, and a great leap of joy carries the spirit -into the infinite room of creation, into the infinite grandeur of -created things, and the spirit grows and feels its small estimate of -God's earth expanding into a newer, grander conception of creation. -Mountain ridges sweep through tremendous space, one upon another, and at -their base, thousands of feet below, a green pillow of sugar-cane -invites the head and heart to quiescence. No word "green" can ever bring -back the quivering, transparent green of those young cane-fields, far -below in the valleys, watered by the careful hand of man in thousands -of tiny streams of irrigation. - - -VI. - -The morning was just what it should be in spite of the croakers, and the -immensity of nature had imparted to our spirits much of her buoyancy; so -when the train came to a halt, we jumped with alacrity from the little -coach, and sought among the people for the human interest, which was as -ever very great. The route was dotted with charming stations, each one -flying a German and Venezuelan flag in delightful amity--for the Germans -impress the South American first with their greatness and then with -their friendliness; the mailed hand is shown only as the last resort. - -Here were stations green and beflowered, in sweet good order, with -fountains and running streams, and booths where we bought ginger cookies -and Albert biscuit and _cervesa Inglesa_ and all sorts of fruit; and -back of the stations, hints of quaint old churches with distant bells, -and gathering about the mother church, blue and white and yellow -glimpses of queer old houses. And oh! the colour! The flowering trees! -What artist could ever reach the delicacy of the _Maria_ tree, one mass -of living pearls. Its branches so full of flower that there seemed to be -no room for leaf; the branch only there by sufferance. At La Victoria, -where we stop for luncheon, in a curious little café under a confident -German flag, our family interpreter disappears, and in a few minutes -returns in the likeness of a Thracian god, bedecked with garlands, pink -and white. He covers my lap with rarest blossoms, gives them to one and -all, and brings into the dusty coach a fragrance of Elysium. I long to -keep the flowers for ever; I long to hold that colour in such security -that it can never escape; I long to enclose that essence in some secret -shrine for ever. And shall I say I have not? - - -VII. - -As we rush along down, nearing the Great Mother's mighty limbs, we pass -drooping arbours of _Bucari_, another flowering tree of wonderful -splendour, each flower like a glorious wax _Cattleya_, and millions of -them at a glance. Just then, as the blaze of beauty dazzles our eyes, -two brilliantly green parrots, frightened by the noisy interloper, take -flight from under their beauteous canopy, and wing their way in yellow, -green, and red vibrations through the scintillating landscape. We are -now flying along on a level stretch, in a high, rich valley, full of -luscious fruits and ripening harvests, and before the mountain opens to -receive us into one of its deep tunnels, we see large fields of a low -bush, growing quite in the nature of young coffee, with much the same -size and general appearance; without, however, the customary -shade-trees. Our friend from Colombo explained that it is tapioca; and -off beyond, in this next, white-walled _hacienda_ (what a world of -dreams and romance of the land of _siempre mañana_ comes to one in that -combination of ordinary vowels and consonants--"_hacienda_"!), in the -_Hacienda Las Palomas_,--or was it the _Hacienda La Sierra_ or _La -Mata_, or _Guaracarima_?--the natives gather from the green river -valleys, maize and beans and yucca, in the language of the country, -"_frutas menores_;" but more abundantly than all else, are gathered the -coffee and the sugar in vast crops year by year. - -Westward from the summit the River Tuy plays hide-and-seek with us for -many a mile, darting, hurrying, beckoning, charming us, with a desire to -loiter when she loiters, to leap through the cliffs with her joy, to -rest under flower-spread arbours in sleepy towns with her, to dissolve -ourselves at last into the deep earth as she does. Finally we see her no -more, but now the larger Aragua, flowing toward the Lake of Valencia, -reaches out a bold hand, and we follow the new pathfinder where she -commands. - -One last look into the shadowy depths before we drop to the plains. It -is only a glimpse, for the passing is so swift that the eye cannot reach -its entirety of beauty; but that glimpse is like the shadow of a great -rock,--a lasting memory. A bird slowly sways in mighty, circling sweeps, -poised upon the ether, between two green-robed mountain priests--a great -bird against the hazy mountain deep, swaying, calm, eternally sure of -its strength. Was there a hand outstretched beneath in the far, -disappearing morning which brought the ecstasy into the soul of that -lonely wanderer? - -We leave the tunnels, the endless bridges, the heights, and drop down -rapidly into the valley, where the heat begins and the dust flies. We -follow the Aragua until she brings us to the Lake of Valencia, a long, -rambling, shallow lake, much like some of our own Northern lakes, and, -at the first opportunity (I think it was at Maracay), we leave the -train, and stand under the wide doors of the freight depot, with the -natives lying around half-asleep on sacks of coffee, and try to catch a -whiff of refreshing coolness from the lake. More German flags; they are -very interesting, but why should a party of Americans be so honoured? -For the German officers had gone back to the ship to do the polite to -General Castro. But the halt here was for a few minutes only; and we go -on, down through the hot little city of Valencia into greater heat, and -for a time into greater and more glorious vegetation. - -It was a curious sight,--the piles of compressed coal dust made into -blocks,--"briquettes,"--eight to ten inches square, each stamped -"Cardiff, Wales," piled in high, orderly heaps at each station; greater -supplies of which we found, as we left the timber for the low country. -But I must not give the impression that the low country is untimbered; -far from it. As we leave the higher levels and start the final sharp -descent toward the coast on the cog-road,--a curious device in -railroading to overcome the danger of such steep inclines,--we can give -no conception of the forest growth through which we pass. The air is hot -and still; the trees stand in their eternal beauty, in their myriads of -blossoms, in their vivid colourings, with deep festoons of moss and -interweaving vines in motionless repose. They seem to exhale heat and -silence and darkness, even under the blaze of a still, white sun; they -tell only of night in the tangled growth of nature triumphant. It might -have been at Nagua-Nagua, if not there it was very near there, that the -springs of water, boiling out of the earth, were hot and sulphurous, -and, as we were about to move on in our roomy coach, along came the -much-talked of Special, with its crowded passengers looking jaded and -worn and cross, more, I imagine, from the incessant clatter of tongues -than from the asperity of the Southern sun. On, on, nearer to the sea, -to where the palms grow. There had been cocoanut and royal palms -before,--yes, from Haïti through all the islands we had seen them, but -here they attain their most perfect grandeur and glory. We came upon -them not singly, in isolated groups of conservative aristocracy, but in -companies and regiments, miles of them, arranged by the masterful hand -of Nature, now in mighty groups apart, like a conference of plumed -generals, and then again in battalions of tall grenadiers on silent -dress parade. Their light lofty trunks gave back from the sun a dull, -grayish white pallor. They were still and grand, and unspeakably -beautiful. - -The heat seems to grow more intense as the sun sinks lower in the -heavens, and we drop down almost to the level of the ocean. The dust -becomes more blinding, and the palms disappear, and all things prickly -and unapproachably dry and forbidding, shadeless and impenetrable, take -their place, and change the picture from one of tropical life to -tropical death. - -[Illustration: A SOUTH AMERICAN STREET - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Long wastes of white sand spread over the desolate landscape, relieved -by not one sprig of comely green or welcome shade, with great mounds and -masses of gigantic and distorted cacti, more impassable than any -man-made barricade. They fitted in well with the heat and the dust, and -the long, low sun-rays, shooting in upon us their streaming floods of -white light; and then, just as I began to think the croakers might have -been right for once--there came a shout from the Doctor, from the Boston -friend, from us all; and Daddy, who was on the other side of the car, -jumps over to my seat and bends over my shoulder just in time to catch -sight of the sea--_el Mar Caribe_--before a bristling bank of cacti shut -it for the time from view. The Caribbean Sea--blue, far-reaching, -sweetly cool, washing the feet of the great, good Mother;--we longed to -plunge into the surf, and wash away the dust and heat and all unrest. -The sight of the great sea so near us, and our trim ship at anchor in -the harbour of Puerto Cabello, and the prospect of seeing the little -girls, from whom we had been separated by so many hours and miles, gives -us a deep joy. The day had been covered by the hand of God from dawn to -setting, and to the end of time there shall no greater beauty meet our -souls. - -Then through the sleepy streets of hot old Puerto Cabello we wander to -where a boat waits us by the rotting quay at the river's mouth. Two -darling faces find our wistful searchings as we near the ship, and four -sweet arms accompanied by kisses fairly weigh us down as we reach the -deck. - -"Oh, Mother! Just think of it, we shook hands with President Castro!" - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -CURAÇAO. CITY OF WILLEMSTAD - - -I. - -Small wonder indeed that the early explorers, the men to whom we owe the -discovery of these island gems, gave them such charmingly poetical -names. Small wonder that they named them as one would a necklace of -deep-sea pearls, strung as they are one upon another in a circlet about -the blue Caribbean Sea, the shadow of one velvety peak throwing its dark -coolness fairly to the base of sister isles, some but a few hours -distant, others perhaps a day, across seas as blue and green and limpid -as the ether above. It seems incredible that from these peaceful waters -rise the vast, cyclonic storms which frequently make such desolation on -our coasts; and that within the green and softly moulded outlines of -some of these mountainous islands there lie volcanic craters which -still grumble and threaten; but, as there are times and seasons for all -things, so there seems to be an ordering for the giant winds to rage, -when the sun is dyed its deepest, and the earth pants for want of drink -to moisten her quivering lips. But that time of unrest is far away now, -and, as we leave Puerto Cabello and its quiet harbour, bound for -Curaçao, and drop below the horizon the cocoanut-fringed shores of the -Spanish Main, it seems as if it must ever be on unruffled seas and -toward peaceful havens that the islanders voyage back and forth. - -Surely it is not more than the turning once over in sleep before, with -the morning breeze fresh in our nostrils, we are right upon the dear -little Dutch city of Willemstad, the capital of the Dutch West Indies on -the island of Curaçao; and, once ashore, we long to lodge indefinitely -behind the spotless white curtains that peek out from under some snug -little peaked roof, shifting scenes only when the impulse to go farther -comes over us; and then sailing away in one of the little packet -schooners which coast along from island to island, or possibly, taking -passage in a mail steamer, or anything bound anywhere, just so it does -not come blundering along before we are ready. - -There should be no words for days and hours in the tropics. Time should -be measured by enjoyments in changeful measure, slow and fast, as one's -mood demands. Rigid hours are obtrusive where the rustle of the -cocoa-palm invites rest. - - -II. - -The little girls and I are hurrying into our hair ribbons and our white -petticoats and white waists and white hats, just as fast as our fingers -can tie or button, when Curaçao jumps into our cabin windows, or maybe -our ship has jumped into Curaçao; or is it Holland we have dropped upon, -or is it a new stage-setting for the latest _al fresco_ production of -"The Flying Dutchman?" - -We no sooner have our first glimpse than, for a bit, all the dressing -stops, and we crowd our three heads up to the port-holes in perfect -delight. As our slim ship slowly winds herself into the river-like -harbour, this West Indian Holland becomes more and more enchanting. The -harbours in these islands have been an increasing wonder to us. On the -Venezuelan coast Puerto Cabello (translated literally, "The Port of the -Hair," because there it was said a hair would hold a ship) is a perfect -example of a harbour for small vessels. Deep, natural channels--like -rivers--wind circuitously until they widen into land-locked basins where -ships of all nations, and of all rigs, and for all purposes, from the -grim war-ship to the native dugout, come unexpectedly into sight as the -channel turns and broadens into the real harbour. There the ship is left -by the native pilot. - -This harbour of Curaçao is no exception. We enter by a narrow, deep way -protected by rocky barriers, directly into a little inner bay, encircled -by the quaint town. The houses gliding by, within easy hailing distance -of our decks, are preëminently Dutch, of brilliant, striking colouring, -noticeably yellow, and mathematically exact as to rows and heights and -proportions--most un-West-Indian. The town is certainly just recovering -from a fresh coat of kalsomine. It is bright as a top and clean as a -whistle. - -[Illustration: ACROSS STE. ANNE BAY - -Harbour of Willemstad, Curaçao - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -We are but a stone's throw from either dock, and it requires a lot of -common sense, even downright logic, to persuade us that we are in the -Caribbean Sea, and not far off on the other side of the globe coming out -of the flat estuaries of the bleak North Sea into the Meuse or the Y. - -A bit of Holland has been lost from out Mother Earth's pocket, and has -fallen by the way in this Western Hemisphere; and it has managed to get -along without the big Dutch mother very well. It has grown up into full -stature, following the instincts of its birth, almost wholly -uninfluenced by tropical environment. Here it stands, a perfect little -Dutchman, an exact reproduction of its staunch progenitors. Its forms -and habits have followed the traditions of its ancestors, not those of -its West Indian foster-mother. There is only one racial trait lacking in -Curaçao,--we saw no windmills; all the rest is there. But, to our great -relief, we are told that even the windmills appear on the country places -farther inland. - - -III. - -The arrival of our ship awakens the Yellow City early in the morning, -and, before our boats are lowered, the shore is white with crowds of -Curaçaoans, big and little, pushing and jostling each other for a sight -of us. Our breakfast is done with in short order. A hurried bit of -fruit, a quick swallow of boiling coffee, a fresh roll, and up we -scramble to the deck. So it is invariably, as we near a port. Each time -we come upon an island more curious, more irresistible than any we have -seen before. We may be sighting it first as we refresh our bodies with a -bath of the clear salt water from without, warmed into the most -delicious mildness by the eternal smile of the sun. Then comes a -scramble to dress, then a bolt to the dining-room, where we eat and run. -Now, in pops a big "if." If we were only snoozing in a Dutch -four-poster, with a frilled nightcap on, under a peaked roof in -Willemstad, then we'd never need to hurry, for all we'd have to do would -be to open our eyes and look around, and wait for the coffee to come -with a rap at the door and a lifting of the curtain. But there is small -comfort in listening to the endless schemes of that miscreant "if." -We'll banish him in disgrace. - -[Illustration: SOME OF OUR FRIENDS AT WILLEMSTAD] - -[Illustration: WHERE THE BASKET-WOMEN WAITED - -Willemstad, Curaçao] - -Before we have time to readjust our impressions of one island to -the anticipated pleasures of the one following, we are among a new -people, speaking a strange tongue, living to us a new life,--to them a -weather-worn old life; among people in densely populated cities, shut -off from our world by weeks--at times by months--of silent isolation. - -Then all at once a fleck of smoke lifts above the horizon, a steamer is -sighted far out at sea, the pilot puts out in his little open boat, and -the whole island throbs with new emotion, for a ship is coming! - -From a poetical standpoint, I wish it were possible to believe that this -emotion is a disinterested pleasure in welcoming strangers; in feeling -once again the hand of man from the great world outside. Viewing the -people, as we must, largely from an impersonal standpoint, it impressed -us that the West Indian cares very little for the welcome or for the -hand of man from the great continent; but that he is up early in the -morning to devise new ways of reaching the pockets of the invaders, come -they ever so peaceably. - -The natives await the coming of strangers, as a pack of hungry wolves -watch for the shorn lamb. I myself have been that shorn lamb on several -occasions. - -[Illustration: THE LANDING - -Willemstad, Curaçao] - -Quite undaunted by the great crowd of Curaçaoans on shore, our jackies -made a cable fast to the near-lying quay, by which means our big boats -are pulled back and forth, to and from the ship. Those coming to us -bring the sellers of baskets; and it is here, although forewarned and -forearmed, that our basket mania again breaks forth in full force. First -came the famous Curaçaoan nests of baskets, of which Charles Kingsley -confesses to have been beguiled into buying; and, if so wise a man as he -fell victim to the wiles of the Curaçaoan basket-woman, how much more -readily would we weaker mortals become her prey? Then, ranged -temptingly, along the dock stood rows of Curaçaoan hampers,--great, -fine, coloured affairs, which we looked at, and looked at, and looked -at, and didn't buy. Then, beside the basket-women, were the men with -fans and all sorts of straw weavings,--and then, oh! the work-boxes. -Truly, you have seen them! Has not your grandmother stowed away in -the dark attic somewhere an old mahogany box, inlaid with ivory and -brass and coloured woods, with fascinating secret drawers and numerous -lids for the hiding of her precious keepsakes and age-worn trinkets? -Such a box is one of the chaste memories of my childhood,--Grandmother's -mahogany box, with the inlaid lid and the musty odour of bygone years. -When we found these same dear old boxes away down in Curaçao, the worn, -hingeless, forsaken chest in the attic arose into a new dignity--into -the dignity of a noble family lineage. So I have found at last its -_habitat_, and these bright and gleaming creations are great-great--and -no end to great--grandchildren of my far-away, lonely relic in the -attic. But sentiment has to give way to reason, and we shake our heads -at the box-man and the hamper-woman, who, nevertheless, follow us up to -the bridge from the Otra-Banda shore over the canal, whence they watch -dejectedly while we pay bridge-toll and disappear across the canal into -the narrow Dutch streets, where the high roofs seem ready to topple over -upon us. - - -IV. - -What a picture of Dutch colonial life comes to us in that short walk! -The overreaching eaves all but touch. Old lanterns swing across the -narrow way, wrought-iron sign-posts reach long arms out over our heads, -the shop doors are wide open, and the keepers of the shops could readily -shake hands across the way. - -I wonder if there is any excuse at all for the fact that my preconceived -ideas about Curaçao were wholly founded upon a very indistinct memory of -a certain liquid of that name, said to be distilled upon this island -from the wild sour orange? I expected to find this ambrosial nectar -stacked in rows in every shop, in bottles, long and slim, chunky, dumpy, -and round; in nice little flat bottles,--gifts for bachelor friends; in -ornamented fancy bottles for envying housewives; in thick, pudgy, -squatty bottles for gouty old uncles; in every conceivable shape and -size I expected to find it. - -Willemstad was not to be Willemstad--city, town, burg--it was to be an -inhabited flask of curaçao, a kind of West Indian bubble blown from the -lips of the Northeast Trades, sweet with the breath of wild orange. The -man with the bottles was to be a more subtle tempter than the -hamper-woman, and--but it didn't happen that way at all. It turned out -very differently. - -I, for one, did not see a single bottle of any shape or form in the -whole town, but the men must have found some, for just before sailing a -box was brought in, labelled "Curaçao," and I surmised it was liqueur, -but I didn't open the box. Truly I did not! - -Some of us cynically argued that the liqueur was all sent in from -somewhere else and palmed off as a native product; others clung to the -home-production fancy, and yet neither one was altogether wrong, for the -famous liqueur is made both in Holland and in this little Dutch colony -away off in the New World; at any rate this is its birthplace and home. - -But the gold filigree, for which the islanders are famous, was true to -our expectations. We are drawn up the shut-in street by the magnetism of -a crowd which is gathering about a shop-door, and filling the tiny place -fairly to suffocation with eager buyers of gold rings and pins, and all -sorts of trinkets. - -We turn from the goldsmith and the seller of corals, and the shops, and -make for the tram,--a little, two-seated bandbox on wheels, drawn by a -two-penny mule on a tiny track through the clean white streets of -Curaçao. We are told that there is a law against the painting of the -houses white, on account of the blinding glare of the sun, and no -wonder, for, even after a few short hours of wandering, our eyes ache -with the strain and glare of so great light. The blue houses are an -exquisite rest to the eye. The whole colour scheme of Curaçao is yellow -and blue, and sometimes light green, with white used sparingly as -decoration. Green, the green of trees and grass, you ask? No. I said -nothing of the green of nature. It's too thoroughly Dutch for that. - -The bandbox car hitches along, threatening to topple over any minute on -the toy donkey and stop,--at least until sundown, which would be most -sensible. Let's cover up the donkey and get out of the glare until -night! But, no! He has his own ideas, and experience has taught us the -futility of an attempt to change them, so we settle down to the -succession of yellow houses and blue houses, and white pillars and clean -flights of white steps, but hardly a peep of green, not a sprig of palm, -or tamarind, or orange, not a vestige of the great fundamental -nature-colour--except in a well-concealed little park--everything paved -and finished and whitewashed--only a few prim and well-pruned shrubs -carefully set in either corner of the tiny front yards, and our eyes -ache for the sight of trees and grass. Where the wild orange grows, we -failed to discover, for the town itself is almost entirely bare of trees -or flowers. Of course, it must be remembered that our very short stay -made any long excursion into the country out of the question. Let us -come again; we must find the wild oranges! - -Strange, is it not? No shade whatever in latitudes where the growing of -great vegetation is but the matter of a few months. As far as we could -see, there were no real trees in Willemstad; still, if palms do not grow -in Holland, whatever would be the sense in having them here? They would -spoil the likeness. - -So we jerk our hats down, readjust the dark glasses, tuck our -handkerchiefs under our collars, and start up a breeze with a Curaçaoan -fan, and decide to play "Jack-in-the-box" and jump out; primarily, to -make straight for our ship to escape the midday sun; secondarily, to -take one very impressionable member of our party away from the alarming -charms of a stunning Curaçaoan woman--a woman of that noble and grandly -developed type which often appears in the descendants of the -Dutch--whose comely form occupies a goodly share of the bandbox seat. - -The streets in this residence part of the city are still and empty. The -penny donkey and "we'uns" are the only live things visible. We are -seized with a desire to pound on those eternally closed doorways to see -if people really do live there. This seeing things on the outside is no -fun. Let's make a sensation of some kind! Upset the bandbox, roll the -plump lady in a heap inside; put on the cover; stand the penny donkey on -top; capture some Curaçaoan hampers, jump inside, pull down the lid and -play forty thieves. - -[Illustration: A JOLLY DUTCH PORT - -Willemstad, Curaçao] - -But, no,--we are sworn foes to scenes, and our vain wish to pinch -somebody dies unsatisfied; and finally, when the penny donkey comes to -the end of the route down by the quay, we take the longest way around, -through the narrow thoroughfares, following the curve of the shore, over -bridges which span the canals leading from the main channel of the -harbour, down past the basket-woman with her tempting wares on the -Otra-Banda quay to our floating home, where the governor and all the -prominent citizens of Willemstad have assembled in great numbers. - -Well, we've found out one thing. The houses were empty sure enough. The -people are all on our ship. What a good thing it was we left the bandbox -right side up! There would have been no one to rescue the plump lady. - - -V. - -Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. U----, come toward us with a group of -strangers--Curaçaoan--whose acquaintance happened just as the best -things of life come to us--by the merest chance. They were driving about -the city in company with the American consul, when, in passing one of -the most attractive residences, their attention was drawn toward two -young women who were standing out on the veranda, waving a great -flag--our Stars and Stripes--in utter disregard of heat and sun; waving -it forth in the yellow and white glare with all the love of country and -home which motion could express. Their enthusiasm at once called forth a -response on the part of the visitors; the carriage stopped and forthwith -all the occupants of the house, following the two girls with the flag, -came to welcome the strangers. The newcomers were bidden to enter and -there was no limit to their hospitable entertainment. - -The flag-bearers were two homesick Southern girls, married to the sons -of a leading Dutch family. They had not visited their native land since -their marriage, and, oh! how they longed to see the dear old South -again! When their countrymen set foot at Curaçao, all of the slumbering -mother-country love broke forth again, and the old flag came out, and -they feasted the strangers, and did their utmost to honour the precious -sentiment of loyalty to home. And, after the ices and cooling drinks and -fruits and confections, they and their friends were invited aboard -ship, where it was our pleasure to make their acquaintance. - -We find here, as we have in all the other islands, that the leading -families--the men in power--are comparatively pure representatives of -the original colonising stock; that is, pure Dutch, Dane, Castilian, -French, as the case may be; but that the people are a strange mixture of -all nationalities, speaking languages for the most part unwritten, -handed down from generation to generation by word of mouth, strangely -intangible, and yet as fixed and well recognised among the people as is -the old Common Law in the courts of Anglo-Saxon countries. Our friends -in Curaçao tell us that the well-born natives speak Dutch, English, -Spanish, and often French, with equal facility; added to this is another -language which must be learned in order to deal with the common people. - -This curious language--"_Papaimiento_," it is called--has been reduced -to a certain degree of form in order to facilitate its being taught in -the schools. Children learn this language from their nurses, just as our -Southern children acquire the negro dialect from the old "mammies." The -comparison cannot be carried out to its full extent for the reason that, -while our negro dialect bears a close and intelligible likeness to -English, _Papaimiento_ is so unlike Dutch as to render its acquisition -almost as difficult for a Dutchman as that of any other foreign -language, but fortunately the Dutch are good linguists. It bears, of -course, some likeness to Dutch in the fundamentals, but aside from that, -it is a strange combination of speech--perhaps more Spanish than -anything else--put together, it would seem, to meet the needs of as many -people as possible. The meaning of the name _Papaimiento_ is, in the -dialect, "The talk we talk," _i. e._, "our language." - -Curaçao lies some fifty miles off the coast of South America, and her -favourable position between Venezuela and the Windward Islands has made -her free port a most desirable one for the smugglers who wish to supply -cheap goods to the South American ports. Thousands of flimsy tin-covered -trunks ready for Venezuelan voyagers bear evidence of her popularity as -a free and unquestioning port. Here, also, many steamers touch. But, -above all, Curaçao is the haunt and refuge of the disappointed or -temporarily exiled Spanish American politician or revolutionist. - -Here, like puppets in a show, appear from time to time many noble -patriots ready to fight for their undying principles and incidentally to -absorb any loose property in the track of their conquering "armies;" and -here hies the deposed "President," or the lately conquered general, with -his chests of treasure, waiting for a ship to his beloved Paris. Watch -our own American newspapers for the warlike notes that Willemstad, -Curaçao, ever feeling the pulse of northern South America, sends out to -the world. Did she not give us the earliest news of Cervera's mysterious -fleet? Does she not thrill us with the momentous gymnastics of President -Castro, and the blood-curdling intentions of General Matos, General -Uribe-Uribe, General Santiago O'Flanigan _et hoc genus omne_? - -The date of our visit to Curaçao is about the time of the little Queen -of Holland's wedding, so that Wilhelmina and her prospects, and all the -gossip attending so charming a personage, becomes with us, as we sit -chatting together on the deck, a lively topic of interest. Mrs. C---- -tells us of a gold box which is to be sent the young queen as a bridal -gift from her subjects in Curaçao; a box fashioned after the most -perfect art of the native goldsmith, in filigree so rare that none but a -queen were fit to open it. This box, perchance the size of Pandora's -once enchanted casket, is to be filled with the needlework of Curaçaoan -women--work as far-famed as the lace of Maracaibo, the lace we expected -to see everywhere in Caracas, while we were then so near the Maracaibo -country, but which one can never find unless the open-sesame of the -Spanish home is discovered, as impossible a task as the quest of the -immortal Ponce de Leon. We did not see the Maracaibo lace, nor the -Curaçaoan lace, and we are told that such a disappointment is not -unusual; it is only for the elect--the Curaçaoan people themselves--that -these wonderful specimens of the skill of patient women are visible. - -I shall never forget hearing that unwritten page in the tragic history -of Spain's noble son, Admiral Cervera, as the Doctor in his quiet, low -voice told how the great admiral touched first at Curaçao after his -long and perilous voyage from Spain. It was the Doctor's son who sent -the cable message to the United States, telling that the Spanish fleet -was in the offing. But it was the Doctor himself who went with the -surgeons who had been sent ashore by Cervera on their humiliating -errand, to all the pharmacies in Curaçao for surgical supplies. The -fleet had been hurried from Spain unprepared, and in fact almost -unseaworthy, with not so much as a single bandage aboard or the most -ordinary necessities for the immediate succour of the wounded. They had -absolutely nothing in the way of such medical and surgical equipment at -hand, although they knew their imminent and terrible need for just such -things. Doctor C----, with the true physician's love for his fellow men, -went from pharmacy to pharmacy with the surgeon, and bought up all the -bandages and gauze and iodoform and other supplies which were to be -found. Meantime detachments from the ships' crews began to land--hungry -and worn, sad with the shadow of the great coming tragedy--and they fell -upon the island like a lot of starved wolves. They actually had not -food enough aboard to keep body and soul together, for the corrupt and -procrastinating government at Madrid had not even properly victualled -this fleet of war-ships before sending them to their certain -destruction. The market was cleaned of everything it could afford, and -even then it was a mere drop in the bucket to that unhappy host. Later -Doctor C---- went out to the flag-ship with the surgeon, and spoke with -Cervera, who prophetically told him that he knew he was going to his -doom--but it had to be! And the twisted skeletons of those noble ships -which we later saw strewn from Santiago on along the southern Cuban -coast was but the fulfilment of the miserable fate he then so clearly -foresaw, but which, after his unavailing pleas to the Spanish government -before sailing, the staunch old admiral, with a Spaniard's pride and -bravery, would not avoid. For so it was written! Is there not a strain -of the Moor's fatalism still traceable in the true Spaniard? - -Thus as we chat with our new-found friends on topics grave and gay -through the noon hour and on into mid-afternoon, the people of the city -continue to crowd one another, row upon row, on the dock. A native band -plays our national airs and Dutch national airs, and our decks are -filled with visitors--the governor of the island and his suite and -ladies, and fine little solemn-eyed and suspiciously dark-skinned Dutch -children; and, in the midst of all the visiting and moving back and -forth, some one asks Doctor W---- how the islanders feel about -absorption by the United States--apparently a possibility now present in -the mind of every West Indian; and the not surprising answer is made, -that, for his part, he--a Dutchman, Holland-born--would favour -annexation; and from the wild enthusiasm of the people ashore, as the -bugle sounds the first warning of departure, one might readily believe -that so favourable, so friendly, is the feeling for the United States, -that the slightest advances toward peaceable annexation would be met -with universal favour. And so the merchants also talked. - -The houses begin to move,--no, it's our boat herself, slowly, very -slowly. We drop our shore-lines, and shout after shout rings after us. -The populace moves in a mass along the quay, and the native band beats -away its very loudest, and the bigger marine band aboard beats even -louder, and it's a jumble of national airs in different keys, and -hurrahs, and the people following along the quay. We wave our -handkerchiefs until our arms are tired. One black-faced, bandannaed, -Dutch conglomerate in her enthusiasm whips off her bright skirt, and in -a white petticoat and red chemise she waves the fluttering skirt in the -breeze. - -If the United States ever seriously contemplates the annexation of any -of the West Indian islands, the surest way, and the quickest way, to -bring it about would be to send ship-loads of pleasure-seeking -Americans, for bimonthly visits, leave their mania for buying things -unrestrained, and, before diplomacy has had time to put on its dress -suit, the islanders would beg for annexation. - -[Illustration: A SNUG HARBOUR - -Willemstad, Curaçao] - -Do not deceive yourself into the belief that you will find El Dorado in -these islands, where the products of the country, food, and lodging, can -be bought for a song; where one can get full value for money expended. -On the contrary, values have become so distorted by the extravagance of -some American tourists that to be recognised as an American is a -signal for the most extortionate demands from the hotel-keeper to the -market-woman. The system of extravagant feeing and still more our -readiness to pay what is asked us instead of bargaining and haggling -over prices as the natives do, and as is confidently expected of any -sane human being, has so demoralised service and the native scale of -prices that it is fairly impossible to obtain the ordinary necessities -for which one expects to pay in the hotel bill, without giving -needlessly large fees to the servants who happen to be in your -attendance; or to find anything offered at a reasonable price in the -markets. - -At the sight of an American--and we are readily distinguished--the -prices advance, and the unoffending tourist is obliged to suffer for the -extravagance of those who have gone before him. This infection has -spread through all the islands, and there has not been a port on our -entire cruise wholly free from its effect. Perhaps, however, Willemstad -was the pleasantest of all in this respect, for it is a free port, used -to low prices and the ways of outsiders. - -It might be possible to go through the islands at a reasonable expense, -provided one spoke the language necessary at the various ports with -ease, and had the time and patience to bargain and shop indefinitely; -provided, _also_, one could beat against the tide which sweeps the -American toward the "Gran Hotel." Let him but once depart from his -ancestral traditions of simple habits, let him but enter the portico of -the "Gran Hotel," and he at once becomes the prey of every known species -of human vulture. It is the old story of Continental Europe over again. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THE SOUTHERN CROSS - - -"Wake up! Wake up! If you want to see the Southern Cross, wake up and -come on deck!" And we remember how long we had been waiting for those -wonderful stars, and how Daddy, who many nights slept on deck, had told -us that he often saw them, and how we had, night after night, vowed we -would make the effort to awaken at two in the morning, and how, each -night, we had slept along, too tired with the wonder days to move an -inch until bugle-call. - -But here comes this far-off voice again calling us from the Northland of -dreams, and it seems to be saying, "This is your last chance. By -to-morrow (whenever that uncertainty comes!) the stars will have rolled -away, or you will have sailed along, and there will be no Southern -Cross, and you may as well not have come away down here to the Spanish -Main at all if you miss seeing it,"--and then we wake a bit more, and -the figure in the doorway stands there with "come" on his face, and -"wake up!" on his lips, and we try to think how sorry we shall be if we -do not see the Southern Cross. And then the door closes with a rather -contemptuous click, and we land in the middle of the floor, aroused by -the disappearance of the figure in pajamas and by our somewhat -reawakened sense of duty. - -Throwing on light wrappers, the little girls stumble along after me to -where our man stands leaning against the rail, his face turned skyward. - -"There it is--see? Right in the south, directly opposite the Great Bear -that sunk below the northern horizon two hours ago. One star down quite -low, near the horizon, and one almost in a straight line above, and one -at either side equal distances apart, like an old four-cornered kite. -You must imagine the cross. But it's hardly what it's cracked up to be!" -And we blink at the stars, and they blink at us, and we feel strangely -unreal and turned about. - -What in all the world has the Southern Cross to do with the nineteenth -century? It belongs to Blackbeard, and the great procession of pirates -and roving buccaneers who swept these seas in tall-sparred, black-hulled -craft, some hundreds of years ago. One or the other of us is out of -place. The only consistent part of the night is, that, while our eyes -are searching for the four luminous dots in the Southern Cross, our ship -is plunging on toward Jamaica, that one-time Mecca of the bandit rover -of the sea. There he found safe harbour and friends in the same -profession; there it was that the hoards of Spanish gold and plate and -all conceivable sorts of plunder, taken from the hapless merchantmen, -were bought and sold and gambled away. But, without the accompaniment of -roystering pirates and swaggering buccaneers, the Southern Cross seems -out of joint. Jamaica may do as she is, but, as we look out across the -scurrying waters, there's a malicious twinkle to the top star in the -Southern Cross and that makes us all the more determined to give it an -opportunity to renew old acquaintance. We'll have a pirate--we must have -a pirate, if not a real one, bloody and black and altogether -fascinating, we must conjure one by magic! Pirates there must be! So, to -pacify our insatiable desire to resuscitate the ghostly heroes of the -long-dead past, the Spanish Student offers a yarn. - -Four bells of the second night watch rings out, and "All's well!" floats -above our heads, and the witching hour of two in the morning brings the -proper flavour to the story. We cuddle down on some stray ship chairs, -and the story begins: - -"Once upon a time--" - -"Oh, dear! Is it to be a 'once upon a time' story, Dad? Then it won't be -real," breaks in the Wee One. - -"Yes, it is real, Chick; at least, so far as I know. But you must not -interrupt me again. If you do, I might forget, and then the Cross up -there would put out its lights and go to bed." - -"No, Dad, I'll be good." - -"Well, once upon a time, there was a doughty old French Corsair, who was -one of the most daring pirates on the Spanish Main. Morals were in a -topsyturvy state in those days, and in none were they more -wrong-side-to than in this famous old Frenchman. He had a long, low, -topsail schooner, painted black, with sharp clipper stem, clean flush -decks and tall and raking masts, and--" - -"I know all about him, Dad. He had a black beard, and he used to braid -it in lots of pigtails, and tie it with ribbons," says Wee One, again. - -"Now, Toddlekins, what did I say? I shall certainly bundle you off to -bed. No, it wasn't Blackbeard, but it was a pirate just as fierce and -fully as bad mannered. This old fellow had been rampaging around here, -there, and everywhere, all about this Caribbean Sea and along the -Spanish Main, in search of ships and gold and prisoners, and -occasionally even food, and in fact anything of value he might come -across; when not very far from where we are now--yes, just about this -latitude, it was, but a few leagues more to the west--by the light of -the stars--yes, by the light of this very Southern Cross, he makes out -the land, and soon after spies a tidy, prosperous little village handy -to the shore of a palm-fringed inlet. Like the provident pirate that he -was, he at once decides that he is both hungry and thirsty and that his -lusty followers are short of rations. Here is a likely port from which -to supply. - -"So off goes a long-boat filled with his precious cutthroats, carrying a -pressing invitation to the village priest and some of his friends to -come aboard. The fat priest is routed out and escorted to the waiting -boat; he understands his mission, he has seen such men before. So, -taking along a few chosen friends, he makes the best of a bad business -and is rowed off to the ship in short order. The citizens, meanwhile, -are requisitioned for all sorts of food and drink, and the priest and -his friends have a jolly time of it as hostages. But as his wit grows -with the wine it occurs to our Corsair that, with a priest aboard, Holy -Church should have due reverence, and roars out his imperative -suggestion that mass would be in order. An altar is rigged up on the -quarter-deck, holy vestments and vessels are quickly brought from the -village church, and the ship's crew are summoned to assemble and warned -to take hearty part in the service. In place of music, broadsides are -ordered fired from the pirate's cannon after the _Credo_, after the -_Elevation_, and after the _Benediction_. At the _Elevation of the -Host_, the captain finds occasion to reprove a sailor for lack of -reverence. But at a second offence from the same trifler, out comes his -cutlass--a swift, shining circle follows the Corsair's blade, and off -flies the still grinning head and the blood spirts high from the jumping -trunk. The poor priest is startled, but the captain reassures him with -kind words, for, says he, it is only his duty and always his pleasure to -protect the sanctity of holy things; he would do the same thing -again--and a thousand times!--to any one who was disrespectful to the -Holy Sacrament. For why is there a great God above and his Holy Church -on earth except to be honoured? Then the service continues as if nothing -had happened and again comes the whine of the Latin chants and the -thunder of the reverent guns. - -"After mass, the body is heaved overboard and no burial rites are said, -for who shall try to save a heretic's soul? The priest is put ashore -with many a smile and oath and many a pious crossing, and our Corsair -and his pack of thieves go their way, having paid their respects to -Holy Church." - -"Oh, Dad!" says Toddlekins, "that was lovely; is it true? Tell us -another! Just one more! Don't you remember about Captain Kidd? - - "'My name was Captain Kidd, as I sailed, as I sailed, - My name was Robert Kidd, as I sailed. - My name was Robert Kidd, - God's laws I did forbid, - And wickedly I did, as I sailed.' - -"Don't you remember the other verses? You used to sing them to us on the -yacht before we ever thought of seeing the real Southern Cross." - -And just as the indulgent parent begins to waver, and the little girls -are sure they have won another story, down--down--down--drops a big -star, the foot of the Cross, millions of miles away, and the three -lonely wanderers still hanging low in the heavens reach out their great -shadowy arms in ghostly warning to those unthinking children of Adam who -defy time and sleep and all things reasonable, just for the sake of a -few old memories of a very questionable past. - -Then those three deserted stars quiver and shiver and hide behind the -wandering company of torch-bearers, and silently disappear, and a tired -moon gives a vague uncertainty to sea and air. - -In spite of the early morning mystery, all our efforts to reinstate the -French Corsair, the black-hulled phantom, and the headless sailor, fail. - -The decks of the ship are damp and empty and long. The ungainly deck -chairs are locked together in gruesome lines like monstrous grasshoppers -dying in winrows, and the great engines below beat and throb, and the -water rolls past us in giant breathings, full of the sighs of dead men -lying fathoms deep beneath our keel, and the stars sink lower and lower, -and we are hurrying on toward the morning. Our eyes are still longing -for sleep, and the little girls flutter down below, and we two after -them. In the morning, after some strange dreams, we lie at anchor off -the Blue Mountains of Jamaica. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -KINGSTON, JAMAICA - - -I. - -Had he not come aboard, it is doubtful if even the "kirk-ganging habit" -inherited from a long line of devout ancestors could have dragged us to -the service. But there was an unforgettable something in his face which -compelled us, in spite of the intense heat, to leave ship by a -shore-boat on Sunday morning and inquire the way to the Parish Church. - -[Illustration: KINGSTON, JAMAICA, FROM THE BAY] - -Shortly after we had dropped anchor in Kingston Harbour, early on -Saturday, we saw the rector of the English Church being rowed through -the crowd of fruit-boats, which were bobbing about us like so many -brilliant birds; but it was with considerable difficulty that he was -finally enabled to reach the ship, so strenuous were the black -fruiterers to give their wares the best possible showing. They were -well worth the showing, too, for such masses and varieties and colours -were a marvel indeed, even in the tropics. The shaddocks were as big as -melons, and the tangerines, measuring some fifteen inches in -circumference, were dyed as deep a yellow as the colour sense could -grasp, and piled in great, heaping baskets, were watched over by -beflowered negresses, who sat motionless in the boats, except for their -great rolling eyes. - -The oranges of Mandeville, Jamaica, were well known to us through the -accounts of former travellers, but no description had ever brought a -suggestion of the true radiance of the Jamaican fruit as it shone forth -that brilliant morning. After one look, the little girls ran down to the -stateroom for the St. Thomas basket, to fill it to the very handle-tip -with luscious tangerines. And while they scampered off with the basket -brimful, the lid pressed back by piles of tender, yellow beauties, a -strange boat-load of new passengers blocked the way once more for the -good priest, and he leaned patiently back in his boat, as if he knew -that to protest would be of no avail. - -The newcomers were two enormous live sea-turtles which the fishermen -hauled up the gangway by a stout cable. The turtles groaned and puffed -and flapped, and the little girls wanted them turned on their legs just -to see what would happen; it would be such fun to ride a-turtle-back. -And Wee One says, "Why, Mother! They are just like 'John the Baptist,' -our pet turtle at home, only lots and lots bigger. I wish they'd turn -over." But the sailors had evidently handled turtles before, for they -were left on their backs and were--after having been duly wondered -at--dragged down the deck out of sight, to reappear again in stew and -_fricassee_, not in steak as the Jamaicans serve them. But Sister -laments. She and Little Blue Ribbons wanted to see the turtles run. -"Mother, if they had only been right side up we could have helped turn -them on their backs just like the 'Foreign Children' Stevenson tells -about,-- - - "'You have seen the scarlet trees - And the lions over seas; - You have eaten ostrich eggs, - And turned the turtles off their legs.'" - -[Illustration: RIO COBRE, NEAR SPANISH TOWN - -Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Meanwhile, as the way clears, the priest reaches the ship, and is soon -lost among the crowd of passengers who are waiting for the first boat -ashore. - -All of Saturday, we wandered about the dusty, uninteresting streets of -Kingston, waiting for the great impression. But it didn't come. We were -ready and willing to admire the beautiful, but it did not appear. -Kingston was even more unattractive than Port of Spain, Trinidad; -dirtier, hotter, and in every way dull and uninteresting. Had it not -been for the Blue Mountains, against which Kingston leans, and the -glorious old Northeast Trades which fan her wayworn features, and for -the sea at her feet, we could not have forgiven her frowsy appearance. -The whole place had a "has been" air, with unkempt streets, and low, -square, dumpy-looking houses, facing each other like tired old tramps. - - -II. - -In order to form a just estimate of the Englishman's work and methods in -Jamaica, one must leave Kingston, and take to the roads outside, for -example that one along the Rio Cobre which winds in and out among the -mountains in a most enchanting course. This particular drive of eleven -miles, called the "Bog Walk Drive," leads to a little settlement called -"Bog Walk." It is to be hoped that there was at one time some excuse for -this name, but as bogs do not disappear in a day, it must have been in -quite a distant past that the name had any real significance. We saw no -suggestion of a Bog Walk, although actively on the alert for it. We had -uncertain anticipations of having to scramble over wet and oozing turf, -and one of us, without saying a word to any one else, tucked a pair of -rubbers into a capacious basket. But the rubbers stayed right there, for -there was no bog, nor any suggestion of one,--funny way these English -have of naming things! - -And speaking of names,--well, there never was a place--except other -English colonial towns--where the good old British custom of naming -houses is more rampant than in Kingston. Had the houses of some -pretension been so labelled, it might not have seemed so strange; but, -no, every little cottage had a name painted somewhere on its gate-post, -and very grandiloquent ones they were, I assure you. No two-penny -affairs for them! There was "Ivy Lodge" and "Myrtle Villa" and -"Ferndale" and "Oakmere" and "The Hall," tacked on to the wobblety -fence-posts of the merest shanties. And yet, in spite of their apparent -incongruity, there was a sort of pitiful fitness in those names. It was -a holding-on, in a crude way, to some half-forgotten ideal of the old -English life. It might have been a memory of the far-away mother -country, left as the only legacy to a Creole generation; it might have -been the last reaching for gentility; who can tell what "The Hall" meant -to the inmates of that shambling roof. But for the "Bog Walk" there was -no reason apparent, and we did not waste a bit of sympathy on the -supposititious man who first sank to his armpits in what may have been a -bog. - -The Bog Walk road is wide enough for the passing of vehicles, and as -solid as a rock. The English in the West Indies--as elsewhere--have ever -been great road-builders. Now this bit of road--eleven miles long, as -smooth as a floor, as firmly built as the ancient roads of Rome--is part -of a great system of roads which extends for hundreds of miles -throughout the island, and these roads have been constructed with so -much care that, in spite of the torrents of tropical rain which must at -times flood them, they remain as firm and enduring as the mountains -themselves, seemingly the only man-made device in the West Indies which -has been able to withstand the ravages of the tropical elements. - -Jamaica is one hundred and forty-four miles long and fifty miles wide, -and its entire area is a network of these wonderful roads. Roads which -would grace a Roman Empire, here wind through vast lonely forests and -plantations of coffee and cacao, past towns whose ramshackle houses are -giving the last gasps of dissolution. Jamaica has evidently suffered -under the affliction of road-making governors, whose single purpose has -been to build roads though all else go untouched, and they have held to -that ambition with bulldog pertinacity. No one can deny the wonder of -the Jamaican highway. But whither, and to what, does it lead? Good roads -are truly civilisers, and essential to the good of a country, but there -must be a reason for their existence which is mightier than the way -itself. Had there been half as many forest roads in Jamaica as there are -now, and the money which has been buried in practically unused paths -put into good schools and the encouragement of agriculture, Jamaica -might to-day show a very different face. The most casual observation -tells us of vast, unreasoning waste of money on the beautiful island, -and one cannot but pity the patient blacks who have suffered so much -from the poor administration of their white brothers. - -[Illustration: A NATIVE HUT - -Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -It was our pleasure to drive some distance on these hard turnpikes, and -in miles we met but one conveyance of any kind, and that was a rickety -old box on wheels, carrying a family of coolies to Spanish Town. - -This place out-Spanished any Spanish town we had ever seen in filth and -general dilapidation. It was simply a lot of rambling old shacks, -huddled together under the long-suffering palms--dirty, forlorn, -forsaken, never good for much when young, and beyond redemption in its -puerile old age. Down through these haunts of the half-naked blacks, -there sweeps a road fit for a chariot and four. Diamond necklaces are -queenly prerogatives, and the proper setting for a royal feast; but, -thrown about the neck of a starving child, they are, to say the least, -out of place. Nothing can be more entrancing, when perfect of its kind, -than either diamonds or children, but they do not belong together. It -may be, that, when the child is grown, circumstances will make the -wearing of such a necklace a graceful adornment, but, until that time -does come, the child's belongings should be those of simple necessity, -all else being sacrificed to the normal growth of body and mind; let -this be once well under way and adornments may follow. Jamaica has given -her children a diamond necklace, and, although magnificent and -wonderful, it is out of place, and the worst of it is, the children have -had to pay dearly for it. - -What Jamaica would have been under wise and prudent management, and with -a different racial problem, no one can say. She has certainly never been -lacking in resources, nor has she lacked amenable--though not always -desirable--subjects. But there is a hitch somewhere, and to find that -hitch would take a long unravelling of a torn and broken skein, the kind -of work few care to undertake; but it is the work which must be done if -Jamaica is ever to have a future. - -[Illustration: THE BOG WALK ROAD, NEAR SPANISH TOWN - -Jamaica] - -Dusty and hot and still wondering where the "Bog Walk" would appear, we -left the carriages for an inn which stood close to the road. It was -somewhat--no, I should say much--above the average Jamaican house, -passably clean, just passably, and in a way rather inviting to the -traveller who is glad enough to go anywhere, where he can be satisfied, -if he is hungry and tired. But the house was not what I wanted to tell -you about; it was the _grande dame_ within, who played the indifferent -hostess. We did not see her as we ran up-stairs to the upper balcony; it -was well after we had sipped our rum and lemonade--for we did sip it; we -not only sipped it, but we drank it, and it was fine, and we felt so -comfortable that, when she--_la grande dame_--appeared, it never -occurred to us to express our disappointment over the Bog Walk; we just -agreed with her in everything she said, and felt beatific. I think we -would have agreed with her even without the rum and lemonade, for she -had an air about her that made one feel acquiescent. She was tall and -angular. Her features were as clean-cut as though chiselled in marble; -she was clearly Caucasian in type. Her lips were thin, her nose was -aquiline, and her mouth had a haughty, indifferent curve, suggesting a -race of masters, not slaves. But her skin was like a smoke-browned pipe, -and her hair was glossy, and waved in quick little curves in spite of -the tightly drawn coil at the back of her stately neck. She was dressed -in the fashion of long ago, with a full flounced skirt and a silk shawl. -She sent her menials to wait upon us, although I noticed that, in spite -of herself, she was taking an interest in the strangers. - -The Madame went before, and we followed, through the ever-open door of -the West Indian home. The Madame's skirts swept over the uneven -threshold, over the bare, creaky floors, and her noiseless feet led the -way into a past, rich in romance and disaster. The Madame had little to -say; she just glided on before us like a black memory. Here on the bare, -untidy floors were the Madame's treasures; treasures she used daily, for -the table was spread (the Madame served dinner there just the hour -before). Here was a table of Dominican mahogany with carved legs and -oval top, and there on the sideboard was rare old plate, and quaintest -pieces of Dresden china and Italian glass glistened as it once had done -near the lips of its lordly master. The side-table of mahogany gave out -a dull, rich lustre of venerable age, and there was a punch-bowl--silver, -and much used--and curious candlesticks with glass shades. Ah! The -Madame was rich. What a place, I thought, for a lover of the antique! - -In her bedroom hard-by, a massive four-poster reached to the ceiling, -and off in a dark corner there was an old chest, richly ornamented with -brass. In every room there were chairs and davenports in quaintest -fashion, all dull and worn and beautiful, while the billiard-room -outside was well filled by a massive old-fashioned rosewood -billiard-table whose woodwork, undermined by the extensive ravages of -ants, was fast falling in pieces. "Where has it come from?" we ask; and -she replies, with a lofty air, that her grandfather brought all these -over from England long, long ago. No doubt the Madame would have sold -any and all of it, and we caught ourselves wondering how we could get -one of those old pieces home. It really seemed as if we ought to buy -something, for the black Madame, towering above us, certainly expected -to make a sale. But we didn't buy; we just admired it all, and -particularly the Madame, and then we began again to try and think out -the dreary tangle. - -There was just one thing the Madame had which she would not sell, and -that was the one thing we wanted most: the story of that grandfather. -She was the _grande dame_; his history was sealed behind those -unfathomable eyes. She admitted only the patrician in her blood, not the -savage. The grandfather had left his stamp upon that face, but there was -that other stamp! Alas, the Englishman has sold his birthright in -Jamaica; he is selling it to-day, and what more hopeless future could -rest over a people than does this day over the island of Jamaica? - - -III. - -And now we are back in Kingston, the city. "How would it be for us to -leave Daddy here--he wants to be measured at the military tailor's for -some khaki suits--and run off down the street on the shady side, to what -seems to be a 'Woman's Exchange?'" The little girls, always ready for a -new expedition, take the lead, and for once we found a sign which was -not misleading. It proved to be a veritable Woman's Exchange, filled -with no end of curious specimens of native workmanship which had been -brought there for sale. Among the natural curios--to us the most -wonderful--was a branch of what is known as the lacebark-tree. The -botanist will have to tell you its real unpronounceable name. For us -"lacebark" answers very well, because we don't know the other, and have -no way of finding it out just now. Who ever thought of carrying an -encyclopedia in a steamer-trunk? I am sadly conscious that we even -forgot the pocket-dictionary. Please forgive us this time! But it was -the tree that interested us, not its name. Its fibrous inner bark (much -like the bark of our Northern moosewood) is made of endless layers of -lacelike network, which can be opened and stretched a great width, even -in the bark of a bit of wood an inch and a half in diameter. These -layers of lace are separated and opened into flowerlike cups, with rim -upon rim of lacy edge, all coming from the one solid stick of wood, or -carefully unrolled into filmy sheets of net-like tissue. The native -whips are made by taking long branches of this tree, scraping off the -brittle outer bark, opening the inner fibrous bark, and braiding the -ends into a tapering lash as long as one wishes. Hats are trimmed with -scarfs of this dainty woodland lace, and even dresses are said to be -made from this cloth of the forest, which rivals in loveliness the -fairest weaving of Penelope. - -The gracious woman in charge told us that, while the Exchange was -self-supporting, it owed its existence to the liberality of an American -girl, who had many years ago married an English nobleman. And it made me -glad to think that our glorious American women had, with all their -foolish love for titles, a generous hand for woman the world over, and -that, wherever they wandered, their ways could be followed by the light -of their liberality. In a way, the Exchange--founded by an American -woman--made us forgive much in Kingston; so, when we took the street up -to the Myrtle Bank Hotel, expecting from its name to find a sweet, -delicious caravansary, embowered in myrtle green and magnolia, and -found the "Myrtle Bank" an arid sand beach, with a large, -self-sufficient modern hotel built therein, we still forgave, because we -said we would for the sake of that dear American girl who couldn't quite -forget. - -And then, too, the Doctor met us straight in the doorway; not the newly -made Philadelphia doctor. No, not that one; it was the other one, the -Northeast Trade, the million-year-old West Indian Doctor. Do you suppose -he is as old as that? Yes, even older. But, for all that, he's as -faithful to his trust as though but yesterday he had slipped from out -the wrangling of chaos. So we kiss the Doctor, and run up after him into -the big, spacious parlour of the Myrtle Bank Hotel, drop down into a -delightful rocker, and think it all over. - -Here we are in Kingston, owned by the English, governed by the English, -bullyragged by the English,--but where is he, the Englishman, where the -Englishwoman? To be sure, we found some white faces in the shops, and we -remembered seeing a few fair-haired, sallow little girls. And we saw on -the street, just as we left the Exchange, an Englishman with a golf-bag -on his shoulder; but these were the landmarks only--the exception. The -people we saw were of all shades of a negro admixture, and some very -black ones at that. - -But the Myrtle Bank Hotel was not the place for such reflections. At -least, so the good Doctor seemed to think, for he had no sooner brought -us under the magic of his presence, than we were carried into the most -affable state of contentment with all things visible, and it was not -until the next morning that the question fully dawned upon us in its -true significance. - - -IV. - -[Illustration: WHERE WE LANDED - -Kingston, Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -I suppose we might have walked from the boat-landing to the Parish -Church embowered in its palms a few blocks away, but even that short -distance was exaggerated by the early hot glare of the sun. The -Northeast Trade was taking his morning nap, and the air was utterly -motionless. So Daddy hails a cab, and we rumble off in the direction of -some ringing bells. The town, as we drove along, had the dead look of an -English Sunday morning; there were few people visible, and those we -saw were evidently following the bells, as we were. Back of our desire -to go where the face of the priest was leading us, there was a hope -that, in attending an English church, presided over by a white, English -priest, we should there see the representative people of Kingston, the -white owners of the island. This church was one of the few beautiful -sights in Kingston. Truly, some good priest of the olden time must have -planned with lingering touch the graceful garden which so lovingly -enshrined the venerable spot. An avenue of palms, singing their silvery -song all the long day, skirted on either side the wide stone walk to the -entrance, and bent their long, waving arms very close to our heads as we -stepped within the doorway. The church, as an ancient tablet indicated, -was built in the latter part of the seventeenth century. It followed the -sweet lines of the English cathedral, built from time to time, as one -could readily observe from the varying indications of age in the -structure itself. - -We were early for the service, for the second bell had not rung. The -priest met us at the door. He was a man of ripe years, with close-cut -whitening hair, and a face that one would always remember. It was framed -in strength and moulded by the love of God. There was in it that -indefinable beauty which comes from a sacrificial life, from a life -breathed upon by the spirit of holiness and quiet. There were no lines -of unrest there; the poise of divine equilibrium was his living -benediction, and we followed him down the stone aisle, over the memorial -slabs of the departed great buried beneath, to a seat just the other -side of a massive white pillar, midway between open windows on one side -and an open door on the other, where the grateful breeze, now faintly -rustling the palms without, swept in upon us in delicious waves. - -We were placed quite well in front of the transept, and as we waited -there in the quiet old building, I began to make a mental estimate of -just where the different classes of Jamaican society would find -themselves. Here, where we were, would be the whites, and back beyond -the transept, the negroes, and in the choir, of course, the fair-haired -English boys. Then the old bell began to ring again, and a few of our -fellow voyagers came in and took seats in front of us,--notably Mr. and -Mrs. F----, who had been the guests of the priest the day before. The -church was filling. The owners of the seat in which the priest had -placed us arrived, and we were requested by a silent language, which -speaks more forcibly than words, to move along and make room. In the -meantime, the pew was also filled from the other side, and in the same -dumb language we were requested to move back the other way. Thus we were -wedged in closely between the two respective owners of the seat. And -they were not white owners,--they were black, brown, yellow--but not -white. The church filled rapidly. It filled to the uttermost. Mr. and -Mrs. F----, in front of us, were obliged to separate, for, when the -owners of their seat arrived, they simply stood there until Mr. F---- -was forced to leave his wife and crowd in somewhere else. The pew-owners -were the rightful possessors, and the white man or the stranger -apparently of little consequence. There was every conceivable shade of -the African mixture. The choir was made up partially of black negresses, -partially of yellow girls, with men of all hues besides, and the whole -congregation in this Church of England was similarly mixed, with the -black blood strongly predominant. I saw, outside of our party, only one -Englishwoman and one Englishman, and a few about whom I was doubtful, -and those were all. The blacks were very far from being the true type of -African. In some cases, there would be the negro face in all its -characteristics, with one exception, and that would be the oblique eyes -of the Chinese. There were Japanese negroes, and Chinese negroes, and -English and French negroes. It was a horrible mixture of negro with -every other people found in the island, with the negro in the ascendant. - -I saw no marks of deference paid to the white strangers; they were -placed in the same position in which a negro would find himself in a -Mississippi gathering of white people. If you have ever witnessed the -enthusiasm with which the negro is welcomed in such places, you can -understand our position that day in Jamaica. We had been told of the -contempt in which the white man is held in Haïti, and, not having -experienced it, were disinclined to believe such an abnormal state of -things. But, here in Jamaica, without ever having been informed of -the state of society, we felt it as plainly as if it had been emblazoned -on the sign-boards. We were not welcome and we felt it. We were out of -our element. - -[Illustration: EL MORRO, ENTRANCE TO HARBOUR - -Santiago de Cuba - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -The people were all well clothed,--many in elegance. The most of them in -white and black; court mourning for the queen. - -And then the grand old service began,--that wonderful world-encircling -service of our old English Mother Church--always the same and always -sufficient--and it was all so strange,--the feeling I had about that -word "we." There was a slow dawning in my soul that never before had the -word "humanity" meant anything but a white humanity to me--a universal -love for black, yellow, chocolate, brown, saffron humanity had never -come fully into my consciousness. And, while I sat there in that vast, -black assemblage, the long, terrible past of Jamaica arose before me, -and, too, the doubtful future loomed up in gloomy outlines, and I -wondered what would be the outcome of it all. Where would the Englishman -be in another century in Jamaica? Would Jamaica revert back to the -Haïtien type, or is some hand coming to uphold the island? It is far -from my intention to touch upon the political situation in -Jamaica,--especially as I don't know anything about it. I can only tell -you what I saw, and you can draw your own conclusions. All I can say is, -where is the white man in Jamaica? What is his position, and what has -brought him into his present deplorable condition? Has the white blood -after all so little potency? - -One needs but to glance at James Anthony Froude's masterful book, "The -English in the West Indies," in order to see the why and wherefore of it -all. His words have greater force to-day than even at the time of his -writing, for the course of events has more than justified his -predictions. - -Our opinions of the situation were wholly unbiased, for we did not read -Froude's account until long after, so that our sensations, our -surprises, at the Jamaican English Church service, were wholly original. - -[Illustration: THE PLAZA - -Cienfuegos, Cuba] - -The service proceeded through the prayers--our prayers--and then came -the sermon. I shall never forget the text. It was taken from that -masterpiece of Biblical literature, the thirteenth chapter of First -Corinthians: "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and -have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." - -The priest had been there for over thirty years, and he began: - -"Beloved in the Lord, my children!" And we, white and black, were all -his children. We were in a strangely reversed situation, for even the -good priest had the tawny hue of Africa faintly shining in his fine -face. No mention of colour distinction was made: but which of us was to -have the charity? Did it not seem that he pleaded for the white -man--that the stronger black should have more charity? Or was it for us -as well? And it seemed to me I realised for the first time the position -of our well-bred Southerner; and everything was jumbled and queer in my -mind as the priest spoke. And his beautiful strong face shone over the -people, and his voice quivered with a deep love, touching the raiment of -one who said, "Come unto me all ye"--all--all--all! The white arches -echoed back the pleadings, the commands, the love, while in quiet -eloquence he told of One who set his face steadfastly toward Jerusalem. - -The church emptied itself, and we were left with the priest, and the old -sunken tombs, and the sleeping organ, and the white light streaming -through the windows. And we wondered if we had yet learned what the -Master meant when he said: - -"Come unto me all ye--" - -[Illustration: THE GRAVE OF CERVERA'S FLEET - -West of Santiago de Cuba] - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -"CUANDO SALIDE LA HABANA" - - "I sometimes think that never blows so red - The rose as where some buried Cæsar bled; - That every hyacinth the garden wears - Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head." - - -The dream days have come and gone. We have left historic Santiago with -its forts and battle-fields, and the beautiful harbour of busy -commercial Cienfuegos; we have skirted along the southern coast of Cuba, -Pearl of the Antilles, through the Yucatan Channel, into the Gulf of -Mexico, and now we are come to Havana, where countless voices call us in -every direction both day and night. - -And yet it is not of Santiago, the old _Merrimac_ lying in midchannel, -El Caney, or San Juan Hill that I am writing to-day--no, nor of the -wrecks of Cervera's fleet strewn in rocking skeletons along the coast. -No, those stories have long since been well told you--those tragic -stories of battle and death, gone now into the past with the echoes of -muffled drums and the shuffling feet of sick soldier boys, dragging -themselves home when the day of vengeance was over. No, it is not of -that I am writing, but of a day which I gave to you, O mothers of our -glorious marines! and I take it now from out the memories of those sunny -isles, a precious keepsake, that it may be yours for ever. - -You are known to me, yet I cannot speak your names. You are near to me, -yet the continent divides us. Your eyes speak to me, and yet, should we -meet, you would pass unrecognised. A universal love, a universal memory -has called you to me, and space cannot separate us. - -In this city of beauty, though alluring at every turn, there was one -pilgrimage, come what may, I would not fail to make. The Morro and -Cabañas might be slighted, but not that patch of green earth away over -the hill where the boys of the _Maine_ lie buried so near the waters -that engulfed them. - -[Illustration: WRECK OF THE MAINE - -Havana Harbour, Cuba - -Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Far from the city they rest, where none may trouble their deep slumbers. -Their only monument a bare worn path where thousands of those who loved -your boys and honoured their memory have trodden down the grass about -the lowly bed. - -It was a day as still as heaven, when in the City of the Dead I silently -took my way; and coming to their long home I knelt down in the moist -coverlet of grass and folding my hands looked up into the infinite depth -of the blue sky, which dropped its peaceful curtain so tenderly over -them. I seemed to stand upon a sun-kissed summit, from which I might -scan the whole earth. And it was from there, afar off, I felt the -yearning of your tears. I reached down to the earth and gathered some -humble little flowers which pitying had throbbed out their sweet souls -over the blessed dead; and I held them lovingly in my hands, and then -placed them within the leaves of a book, thinking that some day when we -should meet I would give them to you. And now they wait for your coming, -O mothers! I could give you naught more precious. - -Yes, the days have come and gone as all days must, and we shall soon -have left the Isles of Endless Summer. But so long as life lasts, their -radiance will enfold us, and when the day is done, we shall draw the -curtain well content, knowing that no greater beauty can await us than -this fair earth has brought. - -[Illustration: CABAÑAS, LA PUNTA, AND HARBOUR ENTRANCE - -Havana, Cuba - -Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -A MEMORY OF MARTINIQUE - - "La façon d'être du pays est si agréable, la température si bonne, - et l'on y vit dans une liberté si honnête, que je n'aye pas vu un - seul homme, ny une seule femme, qui en soient revenus, en qui je - n'aye remarqué une grande passion d'y retourner."--LE PÈRE - DUTERTRE, _writing in 1667_. - - -A few insignificant little photographs are lying on the desk before me. -Some of them are blurred; some of them are out of focus. They have been -for many months packed away among bundles of other photographs of a -similar character, moved from their corner in the library amongst the -books of travel, only to be occasionally dusted by the indifferent -housemaid and packed away again out of sight. - -Days come and days go, and things move on in uniform measure, and life -glides silently away from us, and one day passes much as does the day -before; and we plan and work and hope, and we build to-day upon the -assurances of yesterday and to-morrow; and, although we know that there -are times when love can be crushed out of a life, yet we base our hope -upon the eternal fixedness of love; and, although constantly face to -face with the mutability of all created things, we build upon the -eternal stability of matter. We hope by reason of an undying faith in -those we love; we build upon a belief in the immutability of the -everlasting hills; and we go on building and hoping until, with some, -there comes a day when the soul burns out, and the everlasting hills -crumble to ashes, and loving and building is no more, and there is never -loving or building again in the same way. - - * * * * * - -Much as we touch the sacred belongings of the beloved dead, do I now -bring forth from their lonely hiding-place the few photographs of St. -Pierre and the fascinating shores of Martinique, which we took last -winter, as we cruised through the Windward Islands. - -[Illustration: ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELÉE BEFORE THE ERUPTION - -Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -Having but just read the terrible tidings from Martinique that St. -Pierre has been utterly destroyed by volcanic eruption, and the fair -island left an ash-heap, these one-time insignificant little pictures -become at once inexpressibly dear to me; and I have been sitting here -for a long, long time, looking first at one and then at another, with a -tenderness born of sorrow and love. - -Say what you may of the futility of a love which clings to places, it is -nevertheless a passion so deeply rooted in some natures that neither -life nor death seem able to cause its destruction. There is no reasoning -with love; it is born to be, to exist, and why we love there is no -finding out. Strange, this wonderful loving which comes to you and me! -Not alone the love we lavish upon God's creatures; upon father, mother, -sister, brother, husband, wife, and children, and the whole world of -humankind; but upon all of God's handiwork: His trees, His flowers, His -dear brown soil, His hills, His valleys, His broad, sweeping plains, His -high, loftily crested peaks, His lonely byways, where shy birds and -soft-footed beasts hold high carnival the livelong day. - -Beloved as are all of God's creatures, there are for each one of us a -few, a very few, souls without whom loving would seem to pass away. -Beautiful as is the great earth, there are chosen spots upon it for you -and for me, to which our thoughts revert with an infinite tenderness; -and were such sweet abiding-places suddenly to be blotted from the -earth, it would seem to us as though beauty had died for ever. - -Such a treasure-house was St. Pierre to me. In the midst of islands, -each rivalling the other in loveliness, Martinique had a claim for -homage which none other possessed. Its charm was felt even far out to -sea, as its lofty headlands, with terrible _Pelée_ looking over, struck -a bold pace for the lesser isles to follow. - -As we approached the still, deep harbour,--although the hour was late -for landing,--we were so permeated by the puissant fascination of the -place, that, against the protests of old wiseacres aboard, we -nevertheless took the first available small boat, lured into the arms of -St. Pierre by her irresistible summons. - -And what was that summons? Who can tell? - -[Illustration: ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELÉE AFTER THE ERUPTION - -Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -The same hand beckoned us which has for generations been beckoning other -children of men; other children who have gone there to live and die -content; the same that beckoned old Father Dutertre hundreds of years -ago. Children's children have been born there, and have grown old and -withered, and have gone the way of all the earth, and _La Pelée_, the -giantess, has slept for generations, and the children had quite -forgotten that the day might come when she would awaken. _La Pelée_ was -slumbering, oh! so gently--so peacefully, that far-away night, when we -first wondered at her beauty--and we, too, forgot! For did not her -children say that she would never waken more? - -The soft, blue hills said, "Come!" The lonely peaks, beyond, said, -"Come!" And the little city waved its pretty white hand to us with -"Come!" in every motion; and the sweet-voiced creole lads, who rowed us -in, smiled, "Come!" and what could we do? - -And then, when we entered the little city, it was so snug and clean, and -it was all so different, so different. How can I explain it to you? -There was, as it were, a homogeneousness about the people which was not -apparent in the other islands. Here was a people whose sires had sprung -from the best blood of France, from a race of great men and women; here -the question of colour had been more harmoniously worked out; and we -felt at once that we were amongst those whose ancestors had learned, -through the streaming blood of kings and princes, the principles of -Liberty, Equality, and Justice. - -The people said, "Come!" and we answered, and long, long into the night -we were following the summons. - -Then it was that _La Pelée_ was fair, and she lay so still, so still, -that the children forgot--if they ever really knew--that very beautiful -women can sometimes be very wicked--only "sometimes," for there are so -many beautiful good women. - -But the children loved _La Pelée_; she was beautiful, and she took her -bath so gently, away amongst the clouds and mist of the morning. - - * * * * * - -As I look again in the unchanging photograph at the dark mountains and -the tiny white city, cuddled down by the sea, with its quaint -lighthouse and its old church, there rises a strange mist over my soul, -and a blur comes into my eyes, and I feel myself pressing the cold bit -of cardboard against my lips as I would the face of a beloved. - -[Illustration: RUE VICTOR HUGO BEFORE THE ERUPTION - -St. Pierre, Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -It comes to me that once again there has gone from my life for eternity -that which can never return; just as the whole bright world can be -changed into darkness by the passing out of a soul we love; and we know -that, however much we long for its return, it can never come back; that -from that hour we tread the way alone. The silent spirit takes up the -light, falters a moment at the door, turning, smiles sweetly upon us, -and is gone, and we are left in a dark room. Oh! the love that we -mortals lavish in this world of ours! - -There was about Martinique a sweetness, a translucent loveliness, an -unforgettableness which crept into the innermost fibre of my being. It -even seemed to creep into my blood and pulsate through my body with -every beat of my heart. - -I listen now to the memories of my soul, and hear again the sweet, soft -voices of the creole girls and the quick, noiseless tread of the -carriers of water, fruits, and cacao coming down from Morne Rouge, -coming from the tender shadows which droop caressingly about the feet of -slumbering _Pelée_. And I can hear the cool trickle of the water from -the half-hidden fountain in a cranny of the wall; and I hear the rush of -the stream down from the mountainside, over stones as white as milk. And -sweet, shy flowers hang over high walls and nod to me; and from green -blinds in low, white mansions, I hear soft young voices, whispering and -laughing. A youth passes, as the blind opens, and he laughs and goes to -the other side of the street to beckon, and, oh! there it is again--the -old story. - -And I go on and on, and I come to the _Rivière Roxelane_ where the women -are spreading their clothes to dry on the great rocks, and the river -tumbles along, and twists in and out with gentle murmurs, and the women -are washing and laughing. - -[Illustration: RUE VICTOR HUGO AFTER THE ERUPTION - -St. Pierre, Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -And I go on to the palms, higher up, and some one brings me wild -strawberries from the cool mountains, and I sit down and pick them -from the basket and eat to my heart's delight; and I rest on the bridge, -so old, all covered with moss and flowers, and I look down into the -valley, where the city lies, and beyond where it dabbles its feet into -the blue sea. And the picture is framed in an oval of green, drooping -trees, and whispering vines, and deep-scented flowers. - - * * * * * - -It must have come--_the end_--just as the good priest was saying mass -down in the white church by the sea, and the creole girls had come from -the mountains with their sticks of palm--for salad--and had sold their -fruits in the market, and had gone with the fishermen to the good -priest; and the white church was crowded to the doors,--for the priest -was beloved, and the church had broad arms,--and the boys were chanting, -when--my God! where should the children escape? The fiery mountain back -of them and the deep sea before them and the air about them a sweeping -furnace! - -"Children! Children!" I seem to hear the clear, ringing voice of the -old priest. "I commit your souls to God. Amen, amen." - -The beautiful _Pelée_ burned out her wicked soul, the River Roxelane ran -dry, the dear, blue sky of morning was turned to hideous night, the -white city fell in blazing ruins, and now the everlasting hills lift -their scarred sides in grim desolation. - -THE END. - - - - -INDEX - - -Andes Mountains, The, 67, 84, 137. - -Aragua River, Venezuela, 145, 146. - -Bank, The, Caracas, 106-111. - -Blue Mountains, The, Jamaica, 197, 205. - -Bolivar, 95. - Statue of, 84, 87. - -Botanical Gardens, The, Martinique, 15, 20. - -Botanical Gardens, The, Port of Spain, 15-34. - Ceiba-Tree, The, 16. - Coffee-Tree, The, 24. - -Cabañas, Havana, 240. - -Caracas, Venezuela, 64, 68, 73, 77, 79-124, 130. - Bank, The, 106-111. - Cathedral, The, 84, 87, 96-97, 103, 113, 118-120, 130. - Gran Hotel de Caracas, The, 80. - Gran Hotel de Venezuela, The, 81-84, 96, 114. - Market, The, 103, 106. - Military Band, The, 97-99. - Municipal Palace, The, 94-96. - Plaza, The, 117, 118. - Society of Caracas, The 122-124. - Square of Bolivar, The, 84, 87. - -Caribbean Sea, The, 36, 151, 153, 159, 193. - -Castro, Cipriano, 88-89, 96, 101, 121, 138, 152, 179. - -Cathedral, The, Caracas, 84, 87, 96-97, 103, 113, 118-120, 130. - -Ceiba-Tree, The, 16. - -Cervera, Admiral, 180-182. - -Cienfuegos, Cuba, 239. - -Coffee-Tree, The, 24. - -Curaçao, Island of, 139, 154, 156, 159, 176-179. _See also Willemstad._ - -El Caney, Cuba, 239. - -Gran Hotel de Caracas, The, Caracas, 80. - -Gran Hotel de Venezuela, The, Caracas, 81-84, 96, 114. - -Great Venezuelan Railway, The, 139-142. - -Gulf of Mexico, The, 239. - -Gulf of Paria, The, 11, 64. - -Havana, Cuba, 239. - Cabañas, 240. - Morro, The, 240. - -Jamaica, Island of, 197, 208, 211-212. - Blue Mountains, The, 197, 205. - Kingston, 198, 205, 218, 221, 224-236. - Mandeville, 201. - Natives, The, 227-228. - Rio Cobre, 205. - Spanish Town, 211-212. - -Kingston, Jamaica, 198, 205, 218, 221. - Parish Church, The, 224-236. - -La Brea, Trinidad, 35, 42-59. - -La Guayra, Venezuela, 64, 68, 69-72, 78, 101. - -Lake of Valencia, Venezuela, 125, 145-146. - -Mandeville, Jamaica, 201. - -Margarita, Island of, 64. - -Market, The, Caracas, 103-106. - -Martinique, Island of, 248-264. - Botanical Gardens, 15, 20. - Mount Pelée, 255, 256, 263-264. - Rivière Roxelane, 260, 264. - St. Pierre, 248, 252. - -Military Band, The, Caracas, 97-99. - -Morro, The, Havana, 240. - -Mount Pelée, Martinique, 255, 256, 263-264. - -Municipal Palace, The, Caracas, 94-96. - -Natives, The, of Curaçao, 160-163, 177-178; - of Jamaica, 227-228; - of Trinidad, 51, 56. - -Orinoco River, The, 11, 64. - -Parish Church, The, Kingston, 224-236. - -Plaza, The, Caracas, 117, 118. - -Port of Spain, Trinidad, 12. - Botanical Gardens, The, 15-34. - Queen's Park Hotel, The, 12-14. - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela, 78, 101, 125, 126, 129, 136, 151, 154, 156. - - -Queen's Park Hotel, Port of Spain, 12-14. - -Rio Cobre, Jamaica, 205. - -River Tuy, The, Venezuela, 144-145. - -Rivière Roxelane, The, Martinique, 260, 264. - -St. Pierre, Martinique, 248, 252. - -San Juan Hill, Cuba, 239. - -Santiago, Cuba, 239. - -Society of Caracas, The, 122-124. - -Southern Cross, The, 189-191, 193, 196. - -Spanish Town, Jamaica, 211-212. - -Square of Bolivar, The, Caracas, 84, 87. - -Trinidad, Island of, 11, 16, 29. - Natives, The, 51, 56. - -Valencia, Venezuela, 101, 125, 126, 136, 146. - -Willemstad, Curaçao, 154, 160-184, 187. - -Yucatan Channel, The, 239. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2, by -Ida May Hill Starr - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES, V. 2/2 *** - -***** This file should be named 43771-8.txt or 43771-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/7/7/43771/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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H. Starr. -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;} - -.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.eng {font-family: "Old English Text MT",fantasy,sans-serif;} - - @media print, handheld -{.enlargeimage - {display: none;} -.nonvis - {display: none;} - } - -.nonvis {display:inline;} - -.enlargeimage {margin: 0 0 0 0; text-align: center; border: none;} - -.hang {text-indent:-2%;margin-left:2%;} - -.letra {font-size:250%;float:left;margin-top:-1%;} - -.nind {text-indent:0%;} - -.red {color:#EB2910;} - -small {font-size: 80%;} - - h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both;} - - h2 {margin-top:4%;margin-bottom:2%;text-align:center;clear:both; - font-size:120%;} - - h3 {margin:4% auto 2% auto;text-align:center;clear:both;} - - hr.full {width: 50%;margin:5% auto 5% auto;border:4px double gray;} - - table {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;text-align:left;} - - body{margin-left:2%;margin-right:2%;background:#fdfdfd;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} - -a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - - link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - -a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} - -a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} - -.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:100%;} - - img {border:none;} - -.blockquot {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;font-size:98%;} - -.boxx {border:solid 3px black;padding:1em; -margin:4% auto 4% auto;max-width:20em;} - -.bboxx {border:solid 3px black; -margin:4% auto 4% auto;max-width:25em;} - -.caption {font-weight:bold;font-size:75%;} - -.figcenter {margin-top:3%;margin-bottom:3%; -margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -div.poetry {text-align:center;} -div.poem {font-size:90%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%; -display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;} -.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: .45em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -</style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2, by Ida May Hill Starr - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2 - Sketches of a Cruise to the West Indies and the Spanish Main - -Author: Ida May Hill Starr - -Release Date: September 20, 2013 [EBook #43771] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES, V. 2/2 *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" -style="border: 2px black solid;text-align:center;margin:auto auto 3% auto; -max-width:60%;padding:1%;"> -<tr><td>Every attempt has been made to replicate the original as printed.<br /> -Some illustrations have been moved from mid-paragraph for ease of reading.<br /> -<span class="nonvis">In certain versions of this etext, in certain browsers, -clicking on this symbol <img class="enlargeimage" src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" alt="" -height="14" width="18" /> -will bring up a larger version of the image.</span><br /> -<a href="#CONTENTS">Contents</a><br /> -<a href="#LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">List of Illustrations, Volume II.</a><br /> -<a href="#INDEX">Index</a><br /> -(etext transcriber's note)</td></tr> -</table> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="318" height="500" alt="Bookcover" -title="Bookcover" /></a> - -</p> - -<p class="c">GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES<br /><br /> -<span class="smcap">Volume</span> II.</p> - -<div class="boxx"> -<p class="c"><big><big>T</big>ravel <big>L</big>overs’ <big>L</big>ibrary</big></p> - -<p class="c"><i>Each in two volumes profusely illustrated</i></p> - -<p class="nind"> -Florence<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">By <span class="smcap">Grant Allen</span></span><br /> - -Romance and Teutonic Switzerland<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">By <span class="smcap">W. D. McCrackan</span></span><br /> - -Old World Memories<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">By <span class="smcap">Edward Lowe Temple</span></span><br /> - -Paris<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">By <span class="smcap">Grant Allen</span></span><br /> - -Feudal and Modern Japan<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">By <span class="smcap">Arthur May Knapp</span></span><br /> - -The Unchanging East<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">By <span class="smcap">Robert Barr</span></span><br /> - -Venice<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">By <span class="smcap">Grant Allen</span></span><br /> - -Gardens of the Caribbees<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">By <span class="smcap">Ida M. H. Starr</span></span><br /> - -Belgium: Its Cities<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">By <span class="smcap">Grant Allen</span></span><br /> -</p> - -<p class="c"> -L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY<br /> -Publishers<br /> -200 Summer Street, Boston, Mass.<br /> -</p> -</div> - -<p><a name="FRONT" id="FRONT"></a></p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/frontispiece_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/frontispiece_sml.jpg" width="208" height="283" alt="FROM OUR BALCONY CARACAS, VENEZUELA." -title="FROM OUR BALCONY CARACAS, VENEZUELA." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">FROM OUR BALCONY<br /> -CARACAS, VENEZUELA.</span> -</p> - -<div class="bboxx"> -<h1 class="red">G A R D E N S O F<br /> -THE CARIBBEES</h1> - -<p class="c">Sketches of a C r u i s e -to the W e s t<br /> -I n d i e s a n d t h e S p a n i s h M a i n</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c"><big>By<br /> -Ida M. H. Starr</big></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c">IN TWO VOLUMES<br /> -V<small>OL</small>. II.<br /> -<i>ILLUSTRATED</i></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/colophon.jpg" width="75" height="92" alt="" -title="" /> -</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c">Boston<br /> -<span class="red">L. C. Page & Company</span><br /> -<i>MDCCCCIV</i></p> -</div> - -<p> </p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Copyright, 1903</i><br /> -By <span class="smcap">L. C. Page & Company</span><br /> -(<small>INCORPORATED</small>)<br /> -———<br /> -<i>All rights reserved</i><br /> -<br /> -Published July, 1903<br /> -<br /> -<small><span class="eng">Colonial Press</span><br /> -Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co<br /> -Boston Mass., U. S. A.</small></p> - -<p><a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td class="smcap"> </td> <td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td><td class="smcap">Island of Trinidad. “Iereâ€</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_011">11</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td><td class="smcap">Island of Trinidad. La Brea</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_035">35</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td><td class="smcap">The Spanish Main</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_064">64</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td><td class="smcap">In Venezuela. Caracas</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_101">101</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td><td class="smcap">In Venezuela. Caracas to Puerto Cabello</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_125">125</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td><td class="smcap">Curaçao. City of Willemstad</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_153">153</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td><td class="smcap">The Southern Cross</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_189">189</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td><td class="smcap">Kingston, Jamaica</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_198">198</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td><td class="smcap">“Cuando Salide La Habanaâ€</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_239">239</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td><td class="smcap">A Memory of Martinique</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_247">247</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td><a href="#INDEX">I<small>NDEX</small></a></td><td> </td></tr> -</table> - -<h2><a name="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">Volume II.</span></small></h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" -style="margin:auto auto;max-width:75%;"> - -<tr><td align="right" colspan="2"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">From Our Balcony, Caracas, Venezuela</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#FRONT"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">The Barracks, through Live-oaks and Mahogany-Trees, Trinidad</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_017">17</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Governor’s Palace and Public Gardens, Port of Spain, Trinidad</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_021">21</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">On the Way to the Savannah, Port of Spain, Trinidad</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_031">31</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">The Beach of la Brea, Trinidad</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_039">39</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Asphalt for Northern Pavements, Pitch Lake, Trinidad</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_047">47</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Loading Cars, Pitch Lake, Trinidad</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_053">53</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">A Native Washerwoman on the Pitch Lake, Trinidad</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_057">57</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Where the Mountains Meet the Sea, La Guayra, Venezuela</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_065">65</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Caracas and the Mountains, Venezuela</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_075">75</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Equestrian Statue of Bolivar, the Liberator, Caracas, Venezuela</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_085">85</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">An Interior Court, Caracas, Venezuela</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_091">91</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Cathedral and Plaza, Caracas, Venezuela</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_111">111</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">A House Beside the Sea, Puerto Cabello, Venezuela</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_127">127</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">A South American Street, Puerto Cabello, Venezuela</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_149">149</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Across Ste. Anne Bay, Harbour of Willemstad, Curaçao</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_157">157</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Some of Our Friends at Willemstad.—Where the Basket-Women Waited, Willemstad, Curaçao</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_161">161</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">The Landing, Willemstad, Curaçao</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_165">165</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">A Jolly Dutch Port, Willemstad, Curaçao</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_173">173</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">A Snug Harbour, Willemstad, Curaçao</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_185">185</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Kingston, Jamaica, from the Bay</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_199">199</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Rio Cobre, near Spanish Town, Jamaica</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_203">203</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">A Native Hut, Jamaica</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_209">209</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">The Bog Walk Road, near Spanish Town, Jamaica</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_213">213</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Where We Landed, Kingston, Jamaica</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_223">223</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">El Morro, Entrance to Harbour, Santiago de Cuba</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_229">229</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">The Plaza, Cienfuegos, Cuba</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_233">233</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">The Grave of Cervera’s Fleet, West of Santiago de Cuba</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_237">237</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">The Wreck of the Maine, Havana Harbour, Cuba</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_241">241</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Cabañas, La Punta, and Harbour Entrance, Havana, Cuba</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_245">245</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">St. Pierre and Mt. Pelée before the Eruption, Martinique</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_249">249</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">St. Pierre and Mt. Pelée after the Eruption, Martinique</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_253">253</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Rue Victor Hugo Before the Eruption, St. Pierre, Martinique</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_257">257</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><p class="hang">Rue Victor Hugo after the Eruption, St. Pierre, Martinique</p></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_261">261</a></td></tr> - -</table> - -<p><a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a></p> - -<h2>Gardens of the Caribbees</h2> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.<br /><br /> -<small>ISLAND OF TRINIDAD, “IEREâ€</small></h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">H</span>AD we known just a little more about Trinidad, it would have made a -great difference in that luncheon, but it all came out wrong because -some of us didn’t know. Too late to influence us in the least, we read -in the <i>Daily Gleaner</i>, of Jamaica, that the beef sold in Trinidad is -exported alive from Venezuela. To be sure, we were aware that Venezuela -occupies a large part of the northern coast of South America, and were -conscious that Trinidad lies enclosed in a great bay of that coast, -called the Gulf of Paria, off the delta of the Orinoco River; also, in a -hazy way, we knew that the Spanish Main is a name applied somewhat -vaguely to that same South American<a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a> coast—a relic of the days of -pirates, buccaneers, and freebooting English admirals; but we no more -expected to be served a roast of beef from the Spanish Main than a dish -of Boston baked beans from our castles in Spain. The two dimly -intangible names had ever borne a close comradeship in our minds, a -poetic association affiliated them in closest bonds. The same sun kissed -into rose tints the turrets of our castles in Spain and the lofty -summits of the Spanish Main. The same romance lifted them both away from -reality into that land just bordering upon the Islands of the Blest, and -much as we longed to materialise our dreams, and make the Spanish Main a -usable fact, when the opportunity came for us to do so, it slipped away -from us before we were conscious of its existence.</p> - -<p>Unaware that the illuminated postal-card <i>menu</i> on the table at the -Queen’s Park Hotel, Port of Spain, could in any sense lift the veil from -our enchantments, we read the following bill of fare:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="c"> -Mayonnaise of Fish, with Lettuce<br /> -Oysters <i>en Poulet</i><br /> -Scrambled Eggs with Asparagus Tips<a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a><br /> -Irish Stew<br /> -Haricot of Oxtail<br /> -Brain Fritters<br /> -Curry of Veal <i>à l’Indien</i><br /> -Boiled Turkey and Rice<br /> -Ham and Spinach<br /> -Fried Sausages and Potatoes<br /> -Salad<br /> -Assorted Cold Meats<br /> -String Beans Rice Mashed Potatoes<br /> -Macaroni <i>au Gratin</i><br /> -Chocolate Ice-cream Cakes<br /> -Cheese<br /> -</p> -</div> - -<p>Eight of us sat down at a table on the veranda, white-walled, -white-ceilinged, and white pillared. A white-gravelled walk led out into -the white sun, through a stiff, boxed-in, English garden, stuffed with -plants in green tubs, and redeemed only by those natural things that -will grow and be beautiful in spite of all conventions. Thirsting for -cool ices and delectable fruits, looking wistfully for our vanishing -fancies of West Indian ambrosia, we turn in a listless, disappointed way -to that bill of fare, where ham and spinach and Irish stew and fried -sausages send our hopes a-scampering off like a lot of frightened -children.<a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a></p> - -<p>What man in his sane mind would order an haricot of ox-tail in the -tropics, when he needs but lift his hand for the food of Paradise; what -man, with any sense of the fitness of things, would eat curried veal, -when, for the asking, he might sup a libation fit for the gods? Alas! -The asking never brought it, and we—that is, one, at least—settled -down to scrambled eggs, and felt and looked unutterable scorn upon the -one next at table who began at mayonnaise of fish, and took every course -to cheese. Ah! friends, this was a case where the one who didn’t know -fared ill. She lost her first opportunity of paying her respects to the -Spanish Main.</p> - -<p>Hungry and disillusioned, the one and the only thing to do is to forget -those steaming sausages and the Irish stew as quickly as possible. We -shall not stay here a moment longer. Hotels are makeshifts at the best. -Let us leave these unromantic, unscrupulous venders of ham and spinach!</p> - -<p>There, over yonder on the other side of the savannah, there is a -delicious retreat where we can make good our escape.<a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a></p> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<p>We shall never again see anything which can compare in beauty, of its -kind, with the <i>Jardin des Plantes</i> of Martinique. No, we never -shall—still, we must be just to all. Trinidad’s Botanical Garden is -beautiful in its own way, and we were impressed with the idea that it -possessed some features which that of Martinique lacked. However, that -might have been owing to the fact that we did not view the Martinique -Garden in its entirety. Had we done so, we might have found the same -species in both places.</p> - -<p>From casual observation there seemed to me to be one distinctive -characteristic of tropical vegetation; the trees did not appear to grow -so much in great social orders as do those of temperate zones. In the -North, vast families of the same species of trees gather together and -keep together with as rigid a pertinacity as any Scotch clan; the beech, -birch, oak, maple, pine, hemlock, walnut, hickory, all have their pet -homes and their own relations, and no amount of coddling or persuasion -will ever induce them to a wide change of <i>habitat</i>; but<a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a> in the far -South, the tropical trees seem willing to settle anywhere in this land -of endless summer. Of course, one finds that certain trees love the -swamps, and others prefer the high lands; and some will grow in greater -magnificence in some places where the conditions are absolutely -congenial, than in other places where they are not so. There is the -mangrove; it loves the wet and the mire—the mosquito-ridden, miasmatic -river borders—and wherever, on these coasts, you find a swamp, whether -in the very hottest spots, or in others only moderately so, there you’ll -find the mangrove sending out ærial roots, reaching down into the muck -for new strength, forming—banyan-like—a family of new trunks, all -under one leafy canopy, quite content if only it has the water about its -roots and a certain degree of heat.</p> - -<p>Away up there in Haïti, we find the ceiba, and down here in Trinidad it -is equally at home. These conditions make the formation of a botanical -garden, representing the world-growth of sunlit vegetation, peculiarly -favourable. Trinidad is said to possess the most superb collection of -tropical plants in existence;<a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a><a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a><a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a> and though gathered from all lands, -growing not as strangers or even stepchildren, but as rightful heirs to -the immeasurable vital force which pours forth from a rich soil warmed -by a blazing sun the year around.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_017_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_017_sml.jpg" width="343" height="232" alt="The Barracks, through Live-Oaks and Mahogany-Trees Trinidad" -title="The Barracks, through Live-Oaks and Mahogany-Trees Trinidad" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">The Barracks, through Live-Oaks and Mahogany-Trees<br /> -Trinidad</span> -</p> - -<p>The garden once entered, we pass a great, squarely built mansion, the -governor’s residence, and are in the midst of a wonderful vegetation -from the first step. At the very entrance, we are greeted with, perhaps, -the most unique tree in these latitudes.</p> - -<p>After all, there is something stupefying in the effort to describe -tropical wonders. When they are passing before one’s eyes, each has a -feature distinct to itself, which, in a way, is its own manner of -description. Each has its peculiar wonder, its own glory,—no two -alike—and yet, when one sits down to think it over, there is the same -old alphabet from which to draw new pictures, new miracles; and how to -make each different with the same letters is a question indeed.</p> - -<p>If I could only tell you the name of this particular tree which stands -at the entrance to the garden, you might some day hunt it up yourself, -but as I know neither its family nor<a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a> home, we will let that all go, and -just tell you how it is dressed.</p> - -<p>It is a heavily, glossily leafed, symmetrical, low tree, just about the -size of those dear old cherry-trees we used to climb, oh, so long,—so -long ago! From the tip of every branch there drops a cord-like fibre -about a foot and a half long, and at the end of this little brown string -there hangs a cluster of delicate pink flowers. These are suspended in -almost exact length in rows from the lowest to the highest branch, and -it really seems as if Nature were experimenting to see what wonderful -living garlands she could create for a canopy above our heads.</p> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<p>The character of the garden is defined at once upon entrance. It is a -botanical garden, pure and simple, a place for strange plants from far -away, a sort of orphan asylum for everybody’s vegetable baby. It is not, -like Martinique, an enchanted forest with cascades and glens fit for -nymphs and dryads; it is matter-of-fact, orderly, prim, and -businesslike. Aside from its unique trees, there is little to attract<a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a><a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a><a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a> -one, so we decide for once it would be wise to engage a guide who can -tell us something about the inhabitants of the place, which otherwise -promises to be rather dull.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_021_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_021_sml.jpg" width="343" height="232" alt="Governor’s Palace and Public Gardens Port of Spain, Trinidad" -title="Governor’s Palace and Public Gardens Port of Spain, Trinidad" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Governor’s Palace and Public Gardens<br /> -Port of Spain, Trinidad</span> -</p> - -<p>So we hunt up a crooked, stump-legged Portuguese gardener, by name -Manuel, who takes our heavy baskets, we following down a little glen -which grows at once quite dark and sweet and silent.</p> - -<p>Through long, freshly cut bamboo poles, streams of water are being -carried hither and thither to special spots in the garden, and we stop -to watch the trickling, and dip our hands down into its pleasant -coolness. Away up through the dark leafage, a mighty royal palm with -stern aristocratic grace swings and rattles its great, dead, brown -arms—the skeleton of its last year’s growth—beneath the luxuriant -crown of this year’s green plumes.</p> - -<p>In the thicket, we find the nutmegs, hiding among the delicate foliage -of a low-branching tree. Sister reaches among the leaves and pulls off -some of the fragrant fruit, and gathers many from the ground. A sense of -rare luxuriance comes over us. This gathering of the spices of life from -the very ground upon which<a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a> we tread is intoxicating, and we just begin -to understand the causes back of those dark pages of West Indian -history, when man first partook of this delirium.</p> - -<p>These large-leafed, upright little trees are the Madagascar coffee, and -the smaller and more graceful ones, the Java coffee—how they take us -back to those happy days and months among the coffee plantations, long -ago!—and near by is the friendly banana, so common an object that we -pass its torn, drooping leaves with scarcely a thought, but it is worth -more than a passing glance, for there is no plant in all the tropics -more useful than the banana. It has not only delicious fruit of many -sizes and varieties, but it is also cooked as a vegetable, and forms one -of the chief sources of the native diet. It is planted, on account of -its heavy shade and quick growth, to shade the coffee, while trees of -slower growth and more permanent shade are maturing, thus forming a -necessary and temporary protection; it is also used for the same purpose -among the cacao trees. It is a sort of foster-mother to the cacao, to -care for the tender shrub until its real mother, “<i>La Madre del Cacao</i>,†-can assume<a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a> permanent care of its charge. The banana takes so little -vitality from the ground that, as protection to the coffee and cacao, it -is indispensable. We had some very delicious, green-skinned bananas at -several places, and found the small apple banana everywhere.</p> - -<p>Manuel leads us on, and stops under a spindling, tall tree, flowering -with dainty, pink buds of a delicious odour, and there’s one branch just -low enough for Little Blue Ribbons to reach on tiptoe. Does it seem -possible that the little brown cloves, rattling in my spice-box at home, -could ever have been so fresh and soft and pink? Poor little mummies!</p> - -<p>And just see what we are coming to! Did you ever imagine there could be -such shade? It’s a tree from the Philippines. We stoop to get under the -black leaves, and there the shade is absolutely impenetrable. What an -adjustment of things there is in this grand old earth of ours!</p> - -<p>My thoughts fly back to our Northern woods. I see the sinuously graceful -elms, with the sunlight streaming through their wide open branches upon -an earth longing for warmth; and long shafts of white noonday<a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a> shooting -through the interstices of basswood, maple, and ash; the woods are not -black and sunless; they are translucently green, quivering with light -and needed warmth. But here, where the sun is a ball of redundant flame -the year around, Nature bequeaths to her children a shaded forest, -rigidly trunked, stolidly formed, thick-leafed, which no blazing sun can -penetrate or sweeping hurricane desolate.</p> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<p>Quite as one strokes the head of a favourite animal, Manuel leads us to -an insignificant-looking tree, takes a branch caressingly in his hand, -brings out his clumsy knife, selects just the right spot, cuts off a -bit, and hands us a piece of camphor wood.</p> - -<p>Into the dear St. Thomas basket it goes, with the leaves of coffee, the -pink and white clove blossoms, and a long spray of <i>araucaria</i> from the -Norfolk Islands,—a strange company, indeed!</p> - -<p>Yonder long yellow avenues are cinnamon and spice groves with -reddish-yellow bark, smooth as wax, casting slender shadows in the -golden light. Here is the shaddock, entirely<a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a> weaned from its Malayan -home, and farther on a clump of low bushes, in among the nutmeg trees -and coffee, with small satin-like leaf, brings us to the herb that -“cheers but does not inebriate,‗the tea.</p> - -<p>Just see those glorious great lemons, glowing in the ever-splendid -sunlight, which transmits to every living object a radiance, a dazzling -brilliancy, in which life progresses and finally dissolves out of sheer -exhaustion from the exuberance of vitality.</p> - -<p>Oh, to our starved eyes of the North; to our senses benumbed by dreary -days of darkened sky, hearts chilled by bitterness of wind and gray, -unyielding frost, this never-ending, unspeakable sunlight, filtering -through the yellow vistas of clove and cinnamon, comes like the actual -presence of Apollo, the Shining One! We may, in unguarded moments, in -ungrateful moments, maybe, consider his embrace too positive, and we may -raise the white umbrella, but we never quite lose our rejuvenated love -for his golden glory.</p> - -<p>Manuel, but half-clad, looks as if he would dismember at any moment. His -trousers are hitched by a couple of old leathers, and his<a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a> shirt looks -as if it wished it “didn’t have to,†and his old hat is only there on -sufferance, and his shoes—old flippety-flops—have dragged their -ill-shaped existence through many a weary mile. But Manuel doesn’t care; -he loves his garden, and the sunshine and the luscious fruit, all his -children so well behaved and so obedient to his voice. He takes a bamboo -pole and gives one of the big, juicy lemons a rap, and down it falls on -Wee One’s head with such a thump! Then Manuel is very sorry, and he -apologises for his child’s misdemeanour in his funny, mixed-up -Portuguese-English-Spanish and the rest, and we understand and don’t -mind a bit; in fact, we wouldn’t care if more would fall in the same -way.</p> - -<p>Once upon a time, in the far-off golden days, when the Divine in -Creation had not been quite forgot, there came to this shore a band of -men,—not faultless, no, not faultless—but great men “for a’ that,†-who, with glittering cross aloft, christened this fair land after the -blessed Trinity. But this was not her first sacrament. Deep in the -eternal silence of the forest, the dweller in the High Wood had sought -expression of the divine through<a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a> beauty, and chose a name from out the -radiant wilderness which would tell for ever of its wonderment: “Iere,†-the land of the humming-bird, they called her—those dusky children of -the High Wood—and to this day she clings lovingly to her maiden name.</p> - -<p>We look about us. Where are the birds once peopling these forests, like -myriads of rainbows? Oh, sisters! members of Humane Societies! Hunt up -your old bonnets and see the poor little stuffed carcasses ornamenting -your cast-off finery! So Trinidad has been bereft of her wonderful -birds, and now there is but a name, a sad-sounding, meaningless -name—Iere—to tell of days which knew not the pride and cruelty of -women.</p> - -<p>Think of it!—at one time, there averaged twenty thousand humming-birds -a year exported from Trinidad to England alone!</p> - -<p>And now, well—there are none left to export. We must find new islands -to denude, to ravage, to desolate, for our adornment. But it’s too -unpleasant,—this seeing things as they are; we’ll hide the poor little -innocent card which the black woman gave us at the hotel; we’ll cover up -the word “Iere†with these<a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a> coffee leaves. There, now the spray of -<i>araucaria</i>, now the stick of camphor, and I think the lemon will fit -right in among the nutmegs.</p> - -<p>Come along, Manuel, we are ready; and we follow through the birdless -paths, down where the <i>Nux Vomica</i> grows, and the pepper, and the lime -and the calabash, and the orange and breadfruit, and tamarind, and -pineapple; and we go on and wake up the comical lizards who scurry away -like brown flashes of whip-cord. What ridiculous creatures they are, and -how desperately frightened! Why, surely they must be fifteen inches -long, and fully four inches high, and what funny, nimble legs! They -start off in the same spasm-like way as do the toy lizards we buy for -the youngsters.</p> - -<p>Manuel brings us to the plant house where the great forest wonders of -the Far East are babied and loved into strength, and I could not but -think of Daudet’s dear old <i>Tartarin of Tarascon</i>, dreaming by the -homesick little baobab-tree, which grew in his window-garden; and of the -long nights under the mellow moon of sunny France; and how he fought -great beasts and achieved great fame in the land of sweet illusion.<a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a></p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_031_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_031_sml.jpg" width="345" height="229" alt="On the Way to the Savannah Port of Spain, Trinidad Copyright. 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." -title="On the Way to the Savannah Port of Spain, Trinidad Copyright. 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">On the Way to the Savannah<br /> -Port of Spain, Trinidad<br /> -<small>Copyright. 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.</small></span> -</p> - -<p><a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a></p> - -<p>Dream on, Tartarin, wherever you may be! The time will come when it will -all be true, and you, too, will rest under the yellow splendour of the -golden trees; and the earth, the great Mother Earth, will open her heart -to you and breathe upon you the spirit of limitless possibilities!</p> - -<p>Good-bye, Manuel! The basket is heavy to carry with its spoils of fruit -and flowers; and we take “turn about†across the savannah.</p> - -<p>The races are on, and horses are dashing around the grassy turf, and the -Trinidadians are yelling, the cricket games are going, and the picnic -parties are gathering up their baskets for home; and the Hindoo girls -clamour to carry our basket, and we gladly give over the load to a tough -little head; and the merry-go-round wheezes out its squeaking tunes, and -we pass through the black crowd, and narrowly escape taking a cab, for -the way to the quay looks long, and we waver and weaken, and are just -about to give in, when up comes a tinkling tram, and we jump in, with a -penny to the Hindoo girl, and rumble away.</p> - -<p>The man with the two monkeys, and the<a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a> man with the green and blue -parrot, and the boy with the shells, are still waiting.</p> - -<p>Alackaday! Where is the woman with the baskets?<a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.<br /><br /> -<small>ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. LA BREA</small></h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">W</span>E were led to believe, through various accounts from former travellers, -that the excursion to the Pitch Lake would be attended with considerable -discomfort and some hardships.</p> - -<p>After a run of about four hours from Port of Spain, Trinidad, we made La -Brea at two o’clock in the afternoon of a blistering hot day. Fully -one-third of the ship’s company were frightened off, while the rest of -us made ready for the much-anticipated expedition.</p> - -<p>It was a funny-looking company that stood at the gangway, waiting for -the first boat ashore.</p> - -<p>Handkerchiefs took the place of collars and ties; coats and vests were, -for the most part,<a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a> discarded, and all endeavoured to make themselves as -light in wearing apparel as possible.</p> - -<p>The Caribbean Sea, which had, until now, been ruffled only by the -regular sweep of the “trades,†was badly tossed by a strong wind, so -that the embarkation in the ship’s boat was to me unpleasantly exciting. -The sea was running so high that, in order to reach the boat without -being wet through, we had to gauge our time well and take the jump just -as the boat was lifted to the top of the wave. As we started down the -ship’s ladder, with Little Blue Ribbons tightly holding Daddy’s hand, -Sister having gone before in the whale-boat with friends, the ship’s -mate begged us to leave the Wee One with him. He said the sea was too -rough and the landing too difficult; and besides he would take such good -care of her, and she should have ice cream, and be a little queen all -day,—if she would only stay. So, with some tears, and disdain for -ice-cream, Little Blue Ribbons remained on board; the only time in the -journey thus far when she was not one of the party.</p> - -<p>Had it not been for the confident man, who likes the water, and the -absurdity of the thing,<a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a> I should have begged to be taken back to the -ship.</p> - -<p>We were in the second boat. The captain had arranged to have the launch -tow us ashore, but the launch—true to the traditions of “oil -engines‗had no intention of towing us ashore; it puffed and popped and -made a great fuss, but would not move an inch. The engineer lost his -steerageway, and it seemed every moment as if the great, clumsy thing -would crash into us; and there we lay, going up and down the side of the -ship, rolling from side to side, and bobbing from bow to stern, in a -very disagreeable situation for those who don’t like that sort of thing.</p> - -<p>I know quite well that I was not the only one who would gladly have felt -himself safe on the solid decks of our ship. For once, the incessant -talking had ceased, and our boat-load of people sat there absolutely -quiet, thinking very hard.</p> - -<p>After numerous unsuccessful attempts to make the launch behave, they -gave up the attempt, manned our life-boat with six round-faced, -lubberly, German “jackies,†each with a big oar, and went off -independently.<a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a></p> - -<p>I was heartily thankful not to have been assigned to the launch, for it -could not compare in sea-going qualities with the boat in which we were -placed.</p> - -<p>As I said, it was a long row to the landing, but we finally reached -smooth water, and disembarked at the end of a long bridge-like pier; -not, however, without some difficulty.</p> - -<p>We were still some distance from shore, which was reached by means of a -narrow board walk, carried along one side of the pier, and bridging over -the shoal water.</p> - -<p>At the quay, a big “down-east†schooner (thank Heaven, there are a few -American merchant vessels left!), two barks, and one full-rigged ship, -were being loaded with pitch, by means of great steel buckets, -travelling on an endless wire cable, which went from the end of the -pier, up an incline, to the works on the hill, near to the great deposit -of pitch beyond.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_039_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_039_sml.jpg" width="342" height="234" alt="The Beach of la Brea Trinidad" -title="The Beach of la Brea Trinidad" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">The Beach of la Brea<br /> -Trinidad</span> -</p> - -<p>This ship at the pier was the first full-rigged merchant ship we had -seen during the cruise—most merchantmen seeming now to be rigged as -barks or barkentines—and was, even in spite of its black cargo, a -beautiful sight.<a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a><a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a><a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a> There is something in the look of a ship—its mass -of rigging, its straight yard-arms, well set up, its black, drooping -sails, half-furled, its inexplicable riddle of shrouds and stays and -braces and halliards and sheets—that always stirs my soul mysteriously. -Black as this vessel was, prosaic as was her cargo, unsightly the hands -that loaded her, she was a picture. By right, she should have carried -teas, and spices, and silks, and jewels; but she was worthy of -admiration despite her humble calling.</p> - -<p>Once on land, we realised, looking up the long, black hill ahead of us, -and feeling the heat from a blazing sun directly overhead, that the walk -would be a hard one, and that we must go slowly, in order to make it -with any degree of comfort; but walk we must, or stay on the beach.</p> - -<p>The pitch was in evidence immediately. Reefs of hard asphalt ran through -the sandy beach into the sea. The hill was covered with asphalt, and -down near the shore it lay in great wrinkles, where, when the road was -being made, it had overflowed and taken to the hedgeway. It was apparent -under the grass<a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a> and weeds, around the roots of trees, and in the banana -groves; in fact, there was pitch everywhere, black, oozing, and dull.</p> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<p>Up the hill laboured the little procession of red-faced adventurers, in -all conditions of negligée. The large lady from Kansas puffed and -sweated and mopped her face; the doctor vowed we would die of sunstroke; -the mother and her daughter, from Boston, made the ascent as their -ancestors had stormed Bunker Hill, with features rigid and teeth set; -our neighbour at table, who had been thrice around the world, wondered -what on earth we would think of Manila in the summer-time if we called -this hot; our jolly, delightful friend from New Haven laughed us all the -way up the hill, and said he was suffering with the cold; the German -baron, under his green umbrella, passed us with the superb stride -acquired from his sturdy ancestors and his military training; down the -hill back of us straggled on the rest of the company: the little women, -the tall women, the lean ones, the fat ones, urged and supported by -long-suffering husbands and<a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a> brothers and friends who mopped and fanned -furiously.</p> - -<p>There were hats of all descriptions: white East Indian helmets built of -pith and lined with green, deliciously light, cool things; and all -conceivable shapes of Puerto Rican hats, of a pretty, fine white palm -“straw,†very much like the Panama; and hats from Haïti; and French hats -from Martinique; and then there were Puerto Rican sailor hats, one of -which I wore with great pride. Our shoes were the heaviest we had, and -our clothing the oldest and lightest available.</p> - -<p>Thus all marched on in broken file, with very hot faces, and shaded by -all manner of outlandish umbrellas, over the hot asphalt to the Pitch -Lake.</p> - -<p>As our little party plodded along, going so slowly it hardly seemed as -if we were making any progress at all, my courage began to wane -somewhat, for I remembered most vividly a similar day on the island of -Capri, when I had been overcome by the sun, and in consequence of which -had suffered many months after. With this in my mind, we stopped at a -shanty half-way up the hill, where we saw<a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a> some bananas growing, tore -off part of a leaf, and asked for some water of a negress, who was one -of many watching the procession with great amusement. In fairly good -English she told me not to wet the head; in fact, by her vociferous -rejection of our plan, we were led to believe that it would be dangerous -to carry it out at all, so we threw away the leaf, and worked on up the -blistering highway to the top of the hill.</p> - -<p>There was not a bit of shade in sight. To right and left, rank weeds and -cacti grew in wild confusion, and with the exception of a few banana -groves, and the huts of negro labourers farther down, there was nothing -of a shade-producing nature along the road. The asphalt was so hot to -the feet that we broke company, and took to single file in among the -weeds on the edge of the road.</p> - -<p>As we approached the summit of the hill, a fine breeze gave us new -courage, and the sight of the Pitch Works, not far distant, dissolved -our fears of the heat into most absorbing interest of the great -phenomenon coming into view. An endless train of buckets, which led the -way up the long ascent, on a wire rope supported<a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a> at short intervals by -large sheaves on iron pillars, went squeaking along, one row down to the -dock, full of great chunks of pitch, and the other back, empty, to be -filled and started on its round again.</p> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<p>I looked ahead as far as I could, and located our fellow voyagers, now -here, now there,—white dots on the strangest landscape I had ever seen. -I sat down on a barrel of pitch under the welcome shade of a rough shed -in the power-house, and had my first glimpse of the great lake.</p> - -<p>Why it has been called a “lake,†I fail to discover; it was probably -named thus by the English. In that case, the matter is explained; it is -called a lake because it is not a lake at all. The Englishman never -seems to understand that the object to be named ought to bear some -slight relation to its appellative. He decides upon a name, and the -unfortunate victim has to fit himself, herself, itself, into its new -form as best he can. If this curious deposit had been called the “Pitch -Bed,†there might have been some reason in the naming;<a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a> some, possibly -not all, but some of the existing physical conditions would have been -suggested to the mind, and the traveller might thus have been able to -form an approximate idea of the phenomenon before seeing it.</p> - -<p>Instead of a lake, you see a vast, flat, fairly smooth, black surface of -pitch, with only here and there small pools of water,—in places, -yellowish; in places, clear,—intersecting the black surface in all -directions. Sometimes they enlarge, and, uniting, cover the surface -quite a distance, and in the centre several feet deep; and again the -intersecting, stream-like pools shrink to mere threads, but, as I said, -the general aspect of the Pitch Lake is a flat, solid, black surface, -covered occasionally with water, the water being only in the crevices -between great masses of pitch that have pushed up from beneath.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_047_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_047_sml.jpg" width="343" height="230" alt="Asphalt for Northern Pavements Pitch Lake, Trinidad" -title="Asphalt for Northern Pavements Pitch Lake, Trinidad" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Asphalt for Northern Pavements<br /> -Pitch Lake, Trinidad</span> -</p> - -<p>We were as yet unconvinced of its carrying qualities, and, not wishing -to run the risk of getting stuck in the pitch, we waited the approach of -one of the trains of little cable-cars, running from the works out on to -the lake, which we could see coming toward us. The brakeman is good -enough to stop, and we pile<a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a><a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a><a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a> into the ridiculous little steel cars and -hang on as best we can, while we are sent flying down over a -narrow-gauge track, laid on top of the pitch, to the place where most of -the digging is going on.</p> - -<p>Here a great crew of black men—black as the pitch in which they -stand—with bare feet, all with picks, dig out the wonderful formation, -which breaks off in great brittle pieces. Seeing these men so fearlessly -defying the forces of nature, we gained confidence, and stepped out of -the buckets on to the surface of the so-called “lake;†and although our -feet would sink in a half-inch or so when we stood still, we found that -we could walk everywhere with perfect safety, with the exception of a -few places where the surface seemed to be in big bubbles and disposed to -crack and break away under us.</p> - -<p>It was remarkable to me that the pitch is both viscous and brittle at -the same time. When standing still, the water—thick and yellow, with a -sulphurous odour—would ooze up about the feet and form new rivulets, -which, uniting, would trickle into some near-by pool. There were -innumerable small, crater-like<a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a> openings, some like air-bubbles in the -sea beach, others, deep, black holes, two and three feet in diameter, -but no appearance of heat or fire. All over the lake, small springs of -yellowish fluid were constantly bubbling up into the pools. The supply -of pitch is apparently inexhaustible, for, after a great trench has been -dug out along these temporary tracks, some four feet deep, and many rods -wide, by the next day the hole will again be so far filled that the -mining goes on as before.</p> - -<p>The manager told us that it had not been found necessary to change the -tram tracks for two years, that the level of the pitch fell only seven -inches last year, after immense amounts had been removed for shipment.</p> - -<p>The depth of this deposit is not known. It has been sounded a number of -times, but it seems to be impossible to find the bottom. I do not know -the exact dimensions of the lake, but, making a rough estimate, should -say that it is half a mile wide, and about a mile long; its extent is -said to be about one hundred and ten acres. The great asphalt deposit in -Venezuela, which has been the cause of so much recent trouble,—through, -I am sorry<a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a> to say, the quarrels of two American companies,—is thought -by some to be shallower than the one of La Brea, although it is -apparently much larger, being in the neighbourhood of ten miles in -circumference. This Trinidad pitch is also worked by an American -company, under concession from the British Colonial Government.</p> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<p>It seemed to me that I had never before seen such black pitch or blacker -“niggers.†They were a good-humoured lot of men, making no complaint of -the heat, although they worked untiringly, bare-footed, in the hot, -oozing pitch.</p> - -<p>We stopped one fellow, about as black and tattered a figurehead as we -could find, and told him we wanted his picture. He was perfectly -delighted, and struck a very fetching attitude. After the button had -been pressed, we gave him a bit of silver, and then came a howl from a -dozen others for a similar opportunity, all posing for us as fancy -struck them. Seeing that we were obdurate, the fortunate holder of the -silver doubled up with a tremendous laugh, and I can yet see before me -his<a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a> two rows of glistening white teeth and his wreck of a hat and his -rag of a shirt, and his bepatched breeches. His laugh so exasperated the -others, that one, an elderly gentleman who wore grand side whiskers, -shouted out in tones of deepest sarcasm: “Guess I’d git my picture took, -too, Sam, if I was such a orangoutang as you is!†It seemed as though -they would come to blows, but, had I known the good-humoured blacks -better, I should have had no fear, for their battles, fierce as they -seem, are only words, and usually end in a laugh.</p> - -<p>There are two kinds of pitch: one, pure pitch, dead black, was loaded in -the small cars, and the other, of a light brown colour, was carried off -in dump-carts, drawn by mules. This black pitch forms the basis of all -our asphalt pavements, and such a deposit must be worth millions to the -<i>concessionaires</i>.</p> - -<p>Now, when did this mighty process begin, and what internal force is at -work producing this continual outpouring upon the earth’s surface?</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_053_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_053_sml.jpg" width="342" height="238" alt="Loading Cars Pitch Lake, Trinidad" -title="Loading Cars Pitch Lake, Trinidad" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Loading Cars<br /> -Pitch Lake, Trinidad</span> -</p> - -<p>At the farther end of the lake, women and young girls were busy -gathering pieces of<a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a><a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a><a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a> wood which were thrown up out of the pitch. I do -not claim to understand this marvellous phenomenon. I would rather put -the question to those of you who have access to the wisdom of libraries, -and give you the privilege of bringing some light upon these strange -manifestations of God’s unknowable. As I understand it, pitch is -obtained from tar, boiled down, and tar is a black, viscous liquid -obtained by the distillation of wood and coal, so this residuum which we -see is the third step in one of Nature’s great caldrons; a process -millions of years in forming, a process still in operation.</p> - -<p>Is this wood which is continually coming to the surface of the lake an -unused part of that vast primeval forest which was when time did not -exist; when chaos was revolving into form? How long has it been -wandering, and what force is it which sends it thus unharmed, save for -the loss of bark, out again into the light?</p> - -<p>Some very strange implements and tools, recognised as South American -workmanship of a remote day, have come to the surface of this lake, and -one theory for their appearance<a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a> is, that they have been drawn under the -Gulf of Paria, and up through the lake of La Brea by some unseen, but -mighty power from the lake of pitch in Venezuela, of which this is -supposed by some to be the outlet.</p> - -<p>The wood, gathered by the women, is not petrified, but merely -impregnated with the pitch, and has all its original qualities as when -it first left the parent stem, with, however, the additional affinity -for fire which its pitchy bath would naturally give.</p> - -<p>We were much entertained by the women and children, who stood knee-deep -in the fresh pools at the further end of the lake, doing the washing. -The clothes were laid out on the pitch to dry, and the naked babies -rolled around on the black stuff quite as much at home as our babies are -on the clean nursery floor. The women had on but very little clothing, -or none,—and some of the girls and boys, fourteen and fifteen years of -age, were entirely nude. One young girl, as we approached, modestly hung -a little fluttering rag about her loins, and, thus clothed, was not -ashamed.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_057_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_057_sml.jpg" width="342" height="231" alt="A Native Washerwoman on the Pitch Lake Trinidad" -title="A Native Washerwoman on the Pitch Lake Trinidad" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">A Native Washerwoman on the Pitch Lake<br /> -Trinidad</span> -</p> - -<p>I have seen more immodesty on the floor of a modern ballroom than ever -from the bare<a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a><a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a><a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a> bodies of these black women. But terrible as the -stories are which one hears of the immorality of the West Indies, I feel -that here the evil is less heinous in the coloured races on account of -the primitive nature and conditions of a half-savage people. -Unfortunately this great and degenerating danger to the white -inhabitants is ever present. The pitch lake foreshadows the terrible -conditions of the people in Trinidad and Jamaica; the continual welling -up of this black mass suggests the doom which awaits these beautiful -islands, unless a giant hand is put forth to save them.</p> - -<p>The difficulties of this excursion have been much exaggerated. To be -sure, we had a long walk, but we also had a good breeze most of the way, -and our fellow traveller who, in spite of all warnings, had worn his -immaculate white suit, came off without spot or blemish, notwithstanding -the old proverb about “keeping away from the pitch.â€</p> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<p>Hot and tired, I left the party, who wished to make the entire circuit, -and took my way over the yielding pitch, over the sulphurous<a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a> yellow -puddles, until I finally came to the grateful shade of the power-house. -A rickety old carryall looked very inviting, and in no time I had -ensconced myself therein, and leaned back in full anticipatory enjoyment -of a restful quarter of an hour.</p> - -<p>As I sat there, looking out over the distant sea,—for I was on the brow -of a hill,—gradually the unsightly power-house, the pitch cars, the -little huts where bananas were sold, the native shanties, the long, -narrow bridge, even the rim of the canopy above my head, seemed to fade -away into nothing. The ships at anchor had slipped their cables and were -gone; the iron pier, with its busy life, had disappeared; all had -changed, vanished. It was silent, ghostly.</p> - -<p>Then, out of nothing, out of dimness, there came a moving, a forming, a -changing, and I became conscious that I was no longer alone, but that a -company, great and illustrious, was assembling by ship-loads upon the -beach of La Brea; and that, without word or confusion, five ancient, -lofty-sterned, lumbering craft, and a quaint little caravel, lay bow-on -to the strand, while one was already being careened on her<a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a> side in the -shoal water of the beach by cumbersome tackle fast to her thick -mastheads. Their huge, clumsy hulks were gray with time; their gaping -seams told of hot, blistering suns, and upon their decks there lay an -array of guns and armament, crudely ancient and unwieldy. Silent men -were noiselessly moving about at the command of one most beautiful to -behold, in scarlet cloak, and silken hose and doublet of rare elegance, -with hat beplumed, and glittering sword, who walked amongst the company -as a king.</p> - -<p>To and from the ship there moved a ghostly procession of grimy sailors, -carrying pitch to the beach, where fires were burning, and the venerable -three-deckers were being daubed with the smoking fluid, and made ready -for the high seas.</p> - -<p>It was a merry company, in truth, of lords and gentlemen, and scholars, -too, who came upon my vision, and wonderingly my eyes followed the -gallant leader. It seemed to me that I could all but catch his words. He -spoke with a poet’s grace, so full of charm and so deliberate, so -courtly was his address. His face once turned, I knew him to be -English.<a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a> His fair skin was burned by deep-sea voyaging; his pointed -beard just touched the lace of a deep, white ruff, and over his shoulder -hung a plume, white and curling. In all my life, I had never seen so gay -a gentleman, and I could not get my fill of looking and of wondering.</p> - -<p>Could it be that this great company were the revivified followers of the -dauntless Sir Walter Raleigh, searching, centuries ago, for <i>El Dorado</i>? -And it came to me, in that curious mixing of past and present, of which -dreams are made, “Does Sir Walter, with all his wisdom, suspect that -here, where he pitches his ships, is to be the great gold mine—some -later man’s <i>El Dorado</i>—while he eagerly sails away in futile quest of -golden sands that are always just beyond his reach?â€</p> - -<p>I lifted myself to strain my farthest sight, when lo! all was gone; -galleons, gentlemen, scholars, sailors, even the little caravel—all! -The sun was beating down upon the black road, the air was blistering; -negroes were weighing the buckets of pitch, and the machinery clanked, -with deafening indifference, through the quivering air; and up from -behind<a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a> a clump of bushes a red bow, atop of a well-known white hat, -chased away the phantoms of long ago. I took off my dark glasses, rubbed -my eyes, and, half-dazed, stepped from my enchanted carryall.<a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.<br /><br /> -<small>THE SPANISH MAIN</small></h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">S</span>TEAMING out of the Gulf of Paria the day before, away from the muddy -water of the Orinoco, we had come again through the Dragon’s Mouth, -close to that long, eastward-pointing finger of South America that forms -one side of this famous gateway, back into the welcome Caribbean Sea. -Thence through the night we skirted the South American coast, passing -the celebrated pearl-fishing island of Margarita—“The Pearl‗where it -was said that a German gunboat with covetous eye had these many months -been making careful surveys and taking elaborate soundings—so -forehanded, you know! And now we were at anchor in the roadstead of La -Guayra, the seaport of Caracas.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_065_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_065_sml.jpg" width="381" height="169" alt="Where the Mountains Meet the Sea La Guayra, Venezuela" -title="Where the Mountains Meet the Sea La Guayra, Venezuela" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Where the Mountains Meet the Sea<br /> -La Guayra, Venezuela</span> -</p> - -<p>Leaning over the rail of the white ship, early in the dawning of that -day, it came to me over<a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a><a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a><a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a> and over again that we were at last in the -presence of the great West Indian Mother, and that her face was in truth -an exact realisation of our imaginings.</p> - -<p>A strong breeze blew the waves fast and loose, one upon another, to the -near-lying shore, where a white line of surf circled about a rounding -promontory, and lost itself on the other side of the cliff. Up and -beyond, rose the mountains, and some one said: “The Andes!†and we -looked again, and longer, and said to ourselves—“The Andes,—South -America, we are looking upon them with actual eyes!â€</p> - -<p>Up, and still up, rose the mountains; great, tender lines of undulating -softness, all green and blue and gentle and grand, one sweep upon -another of matchless warm tints; one sweep upon another of voluptuous -curves in billowy green, and dropping in and about the contour of the -great continent’s majestic form, far disappearing valleys swept into the -dimness of soft, shadowy depths.</p> - -<p>Like a great mother, asleep, spread with a coverlet of the changing -tints of malachite and beryl, South America lay before us.<a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a></p> - -<p>Clambering up her skirts were the little white roofs of La Guayra, spots -on her verdant garment,—irregular spots here, there, and everywhere; -now in patches, comfortably huddling together at her feet; now stray -offshoots away beyond. All very square and very Spanish were these -houses, very quaint to look upon; and if this is La Guayra, where is -Caracas? Must we, too, clamber and climb away into those mountain -heights, and, perchance, awaken the Great Mother, who sleeps so gently -under the drowsy lullings of the deep sea?</p> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<p>Things are moving on the shore, and in the distance dots like men and -women stir about the tiny houses, and a toy train toots, and toy engines -rattle, and toy cars seem filling with toy people; and we think it time -to go ashore and see if we can find a seat in one of those cars; so we -run up forward, where our impatient fellow voyagers have been hurrying -into the launch this long time. It has just puffed away, and we are -really glad.</p> - -<p>There is something very like the “stray sheep†in our make-up. It is -Americanism<a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a> boiled down,—this love of going alone, and being -self-reliant.</p> - -<p>A beamy shore-boat is engaged at one <i>bolivar</i> apiece (negotiations -having been started on a basis of five <i>bolivars</i> apiece, charged by the -boatmen), and we have plenty of room for all, even the Doctor, who is -going with us (for he was just too late for the launch—perhaps, with -malice aforethought); and so we row to the stone steps of the quay of La -Guayra, the port of Caracas, our first landing on the “Spanish Main.â€</p> - -<p>We have left the land of what we supposed to be our mother tongue, and -are come to a country where we can really be understood, or -misunderstood, according to our abilities to express ourselves, in a -language more constant than English. I take a mental stock, and find -four Spanish phrases which did not fail me in Santo Domingo, and shall -not fail me here. Besides I have been practising them since then! With -these I can fare sumptuously:</p> - -<p><i>¿Cuanto cuesta?</i> (How much does it cost?)</p> - -<p><i>¿Qué hora es?</i> (What o’clock is it?)</p> - -<p><i>¡Mucho bonito!</i> (Very beautiful!)</p> - -<p><a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a><i>Yo no entiendo.</i> (I do not understand.)</p> - -<p>This, with a few nouns sprinkled in, was my vocabulary; but I had no -fears,—had we not our own interpreter?</p> - -<p>And the big, strong oars brought us to the landing. Then we girls, in -charge of the Doctor, were stood up in the shade of a warehouse, where -we watched the white uniformed South Americans, struggling with our -obdurate men for their landing charges—for here they charge for the -right to land. Then the men disappeared with the bags, and we waited -what seemed to us a very long time, until, with one consent, we just -thought we wouldn’t stay put another minute; so the Doctor takes the -lead with his big white Indian helmet jammed over his eyes, and Little -Blue Ribbons and Sister raise a fine cloud of dust, running on ahead. -But we older ones know what it means to be in La Guayra, so we follow on -very leisurely. On the way, we meet an excited messenger already sent to -hurry us to the train.</p> - -<p>La Guayra is said to be the hottest place about the West Indies, and I -could well imagine how the Great Mother would have to fan her little -white children, when they once really felt the breath of the -unconscionable sun; but,<a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a> as we walked along, even though the sun had -climbed a few steady hours, we found it far from uncomfortable, even -carrying our heavy satchels, and the white umbrella, besides.</p> - -<p>Along a dusty and sun-stricken water-front, disfigured with railroad -tracks, and low warehouses, we came to the station, where the men, -triumphant, were impatiently waiting, after sending out their belated -relief expedition. Tickets had been bought, gold pieces divided up into -fascinating silver pieces, called <i>bolivars</i> (in honour of the great -South American liberator—accent on the second syllable, if you please), -and all in our lord and master’s own Spanish, of which we were justly -proud; and then we find places in the train, and in a few moments after -our arrival we jerk out among the white houses.</p> - -<p>It was a clever bit of forethought—that move of ours to hunt up the -men. Had we not done so, we could never have caught the early morning -train, for the messenger was slow, and we would have become merely a -part of the hot and dependent crowd on the later “special.†It’s better -sometimes <i>not</i> to stay where you’re put.<a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a></p> - -<p>We move along at a good pace among the gardens of La Guayra,—rather -sparse gardens they are,—and then we climb to the balconies, and then a -turn and we are hiding about the Great Mother’s green petticoats; and -anon we pass up to the roofs of La Guayra,—which reach out like a white -sombrero over the little people below.</p> - -<p>Then the pull begins. Two powerful, stocky, low-built, narrow-gauge -mountain engines haul us along with apparently no effort, up into the -mountains, up a grade which seems to grow steeper every minute. Our men -say that the average grade is over four per cent. I can’t see how it is -that men know all these things about grades and percentages. It seems -like such a lot of plunder to lie around in the brain. But—about such -trifles—men must know and women must ask, and that’s all there is to -it.</p> - -<p>It is a continuous twisting and turning and winding, seldom on a level -stretch; it’s up, up away from the sea from the very start. Now, we are -far above the tree-tops of the town, and our white ship out in the -harbour lies motionless, and seems far away. We wonder<a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a> at the courage -of the people who would dare so great a feat of road-building, and grow -doubly curious to see the city, hidden beyond in the clouds of the -mountain.</p> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<p>La Guayra lies just above sea-level. In two hours, we must climb over -the Great Mother’s back, going thirty odd miles to reach Caracas, which -lies at an elevation over three thousand feet in a valley, only six -miles in an air line from La Guayra.</p> - -<p>Up, up into the thin vapours, into regions of other trees still higher, -whose tops again we pass amongst. The sun is hazy through a translucent -veil of mist, and far away, the white horses of the sea dance up against -the shore and out of sight, and the white sombrero drops beneath an -emerald cloak, and everything but the sky is shut out.</p> - -<p>We jump first to one side of the car and then to the other, for the -sea-view and for the mountains. We are whirled around quick curves, and -all but lose our feet; and some of us—even men—get dizzy looking at -the drop below us; and then we cut through the<a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a> mountain and hurry on up -the steep climb until the plucky little engine decides to stop, and we -are told that we have reached the summit; and we hurry from the cars and -feel the sweet coolness of the mountains, and the actual presence of the -Great Mother.</p> - -<p>We stand close together on the brink of a chasm and look tremulously -into the depths of her great heart; down, down, a thousand feet and more -of living, breathing green, into every hue of purple and blue, deepening -into black near the far-off valley, and disappearing into azure among -the clouds,—silence, shadow, tenderness, sublimity, overspread by the -ineffable loveliness of morning.</p> - -<p>We are moving again, and now it is down, gradually, for Caracas lies a -thousand feet below the summit. We follow along a white highroad, the -mountain trail from Caracas to the sea. Now we are on its level; now we -leave it. Long trains of pack-mules make a cloud of gray dust against -the green, and here and there a red blanket thrown across a burro’s back -brings a delicious bit of life and colour into the passing scene.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_075_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_075_sml.jpg" width="343" height="229" alt="Caracas and the Mountains Venezuela" -title="Caracas and the Mountains Venezuela" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Caracas and the Mountains<br /> -Venezuela</span> -</p> - -<p>Now we seem to be on the level, and scurry<a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a><a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a><a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a> along at a great rate; and -soon there spring up out of the brown earth <i>adobe</i> houses (the first we -have seen since we were in Mexico), and here are more and yet more, and -there, ah! that must be Caracas, the great Venezuelan capital, the -habitation of over one hundred and fifty thousand people!</p> - -<p>But, shall we say it? Must we be honest at the expense of all else? The -approach to Caracas is a disappointment. There is scarcely any kind of a -habitation which gives a landscape quite such a distressful look as the -<i>adobe</i> hut. Built of sun-dried mud blocks, it gives off an atmosphere -of dust with every whiff of wind. It comes to our mind always with the -thought of dry barrenness, heat, sun, dust, shadeless fields of maguey, -prickly <i>nopals</i>, broad sombreros, and leather-clothed <i>rancheros</i>. And -to see the suburbs of a great city, the outlying habitations, in gray, -crumbling <i>adobe</i>, makes an unpleasant impression, in spite of the fact -that, from the distance, we catch a quick glimpse of a peaceful -campanile and high, imposing roofs a bit beyond. There’s only time for a -suggestion, but that suggestion biassed all our later impressions. We -steam<a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a> into the station and begin to pick up our traps and make for the -carriages.</p> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<p>As we said before, the spirit of independence gained supremacy, when we -were once fairly upon the Spanish Main. Out of many, a few of us escaped -the tourist agent. A courier had been sent from New York, and at every -port we had the privilege of availing ourselves of his guides, -carriages, meal tickets, <i>et cetera</i>, if we wished to do so; and for -some it was certainly a great advantage, for, unless one knows some -French and Spanish, one is at the mercy of every shark that swims, and -these waters are full of them, as are all others for that matter.</p> - -<p>We found the prices very high everywhere, with few exceptions; equally -high for poor accommodations as for the better, the reasons whereof, for -the present, must be left unexplained. Suffice it to say, that the -American is his own worst enemy. Nine-tenths of our party thought it -would be unwise to go through South America from La Guayra to Puerto -Cabello on their own responsibility;<a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a> so our little group were the only -ones to experience the joy and excitement of an independent tour through -a strange country, where English—good, honest, live English—is a rare -commodity.</p> - -<p>The Doctor, and Mr. and Mrs. M—— from Boston, and Daddy were keen for -the experience. I was afraid we might be left away down in South -America, with no train to carry us on from Caracas, for “the personally -conducted†were to have a “special,†but my fears were finally allayed -by constant assurances of safety; so independence carried the day.</p> - -<p>Once inside the Caracas station, Daddy disappears, and, after a bit, we -see him beckoning to us from in among a crowd of vehicles, all very -comfortable and well-appointed, and we sidle along among the noisy South -American cabbies, and jump into the selected carriage.</p> - -<p>Now, what was said to the cabby, I’ll never know; but we were no sooner -in that carriage than the horses started on a dead run, rattlety-bang, -whackety-whack, jigglety-jagglety, over stones and ruts, through the -city of Caracas. Up the hill we tore, and all I could see from<a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a> under -the low, buggy-like canopy was the bottom of things sailing by in a -cloud of dust. Every now and then we struck a street-car track on the -wrong angle, and off we would slew, still on the run, with one wheel in -the track and the other anywhere but in the right place, for half a -block or so, and then no sooner well under way again, than we would all -but smash to pieces some peaceful cab, jogging toward us from the -opposite direction. A train of donkeys, coming from the market, on the -way home to the mountains with empty baskets, narrowly escapes sudden -death at our furious onslaught; and I can yet hear their little feet -pattering off and the tinkle of the leader’s bell, as his picturesque -little nose just misses our big clumsy wheel. In a jumble we see the -small feet of the passers-by, and so we jerk along until all at once we -stop with a bump at the <i>Gran Hotel de Caracas</i>.</p> - -<p>There we wait in the garden while our recklessly independent men seek -lodgings. None to be had! Off we gallop toward another inn, catch -glimpses of a square, stop again, wait in the carriage, and find the -standing still very delightful. In a few minutes, our bold leaders<a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a> -return with the look we know so well,—jubilant and hopeful. Beautiful -rooms, fine air, clean beds, sumptuous parlours, and all that,—you know -how it reads.</p> - -<p>We enter the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i>.</p> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<p>May I be forgiven if I leave the path of calm discretion for once, or -how would it do to leave out the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i> altogether, -and turn the page to where the mountains begin? But, you see, if we -leave out the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i>, we should have to leave out -Caracas, and that would never do at all.</p> - -<p>There was one member of our party who never sat down to a meal that he -did not declare it was the finest he had ever eaten in his life. This -faculty of taking things as they come, conforming gracefully to the -customs of a country, is, perhaps,—next to unselfishness,—the most -enviable trait in the traveller. Well might it be applied, as we begin -the search for our rooms in the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i>. We climb a -wide, winding, dirty stairway, pass through the sumptuously dusty -parlour, up<a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a> another flight of the same kind, only narrower and dustier -and darker. An English housekeeper leads the way, and some one exclaims -(Oh, the blessed charity of that soul!): “How pleasant to find a neat -English woman in charge of the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i>!â€</p> - -<p>It has never been clear to me just what state of mind could have -inspired that remark; whether it was a momentary blindness, occasioned -by the mad drive, or a kind of temporary delirium, from the sudden -consciousness of power over perplexing foreign relations; or whether it -was merely the natural outburst of an angelic disposition, I could never -quite make out. But those are the identical words he used: “How pleasant -to find a neat English woman at the head of affairs in the <i>Gran Hotel -de Venezuela</i>.â€</p> - -<p>The “neat English woman†had dull, reddish, grayish hair, stringing in -thin, stray locks from a lopsided, dusty knot on the top of her head. -She had freckles, and teeth that clicked when she smiled. A -time-bedraggled calico gown swung around her lean bones, and at her side -she carried a bunch of keys, one of which she slipped up to the top into -a wobblety<a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a> door, and ushered us into our “apartments.â€</p> - -<p>The “neat English housekeeper†fitted into that room to a dot. It was -gray, and red, and wobblety, and she was gray, and red, and wobblety.</p> - -<p>If it hadn’t been for the everything outside, away beyond the balcony -(for, thank Heaven, no Spanish house is complete without one!), no -amount of philosophy could have atoned for that room. It was simply -white with the accumulated dust of no one knew how long. Our shoes made -tracks on the floor, and our satchels made clean spots on the bureau. -Two slab-sided, lumpy beds suggested troubled dreams. Two thin, -threadbare little towels lay on the rickety, dusty wash-stand, and an -old cracked pitcher held the stuff we must call water. A thin partition -of matched boards dividing ours from the next “apartments,†rattled as -we deposited our things in various places which looked a little cleaner -than the places which were not so clean.</p> - -<p>Had it not been for the balcony, we could never have endured it; though -we had put up in queer places before. We had not even the<a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a> satisfaction -of leaning on the balcony rail; it was too dusty. But we could stand, -and we did stand, looking out over and beyond the picturesque buildings, -to the everlasting hills, to the Andes, their lofty summits encircling -us like an emerald girdle, with calm La Silla thousands of feet above -all.</p> - -<p>Below us lay the city and the Square of Bolivar, with the bronze statue -of the great Liberator in the centre, in the midst of a phalanx of -palms, rising above the dust and the glaring white walk.</p> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<p>To the left, the Cathedral, one compensation at least for all the rest. -What combination of characteristics is it that makes the Spaniard such a -marvellous builder, and, at the same time, such a wretched maintainer? -He builds a Cathedral to be a joy for all time; its lines fall into -beauty as naturally as the bird’s flight toward its nest. Whatever he -builds, he builds for posterity; simply, beautifully, gracefully. Even -his straight rows of hemmed-in city houses have a touch of beauty about -them somewhere; and in the Cathedral,<a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a><a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a><a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a> his true artistic sense finds -full expression. Close at hand the noble Campanile, swung with ancient -bells, watches in serene dignity and beauty the moving, streaming life -below. Sweet lines, harmonious to the eye, lift the Cathedral from the -hideous dirt and unkempt streets; from the whirling dust and circling -buzzards, to a sphere of forgetfulness, where beauty struggles for the -supremacy she holds with royal hand so long as we continue to gaze -upward.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_085_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_085_sml.jpg" width="232" height="344" alt="Equestrian Statue of Bolivar, the Liberator Caracas, Venezuela" -title="Equestrian Statue of Bolivar, the Liberator Caracas, Venezuela" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Equestrian Statue of Bolivar, the Liberator<br /> -Caracas, Venezuela</span> -</p> - -<p>But once let our eyes leave the mountains and the Tower, and it all -changes into that other picture, the other side of the life of that -curious compound of traits, the Spaniard. For here, South American as he -calls himself, down deep in his heart he is ever the Spaniard, and -although he has claimed his independence of the mother country these -many years, through the heroic victories of Bolivar and his brave -associates, his characteristics are Spanish, his arts are Spanish, his -life is Spanish; his glorious Cathedral is Spanish, and his horrible -streets are Spanish; his magnificent statue of Bolivar is Spanish, and -the dowdy, dusty garden about it is Spanish.<a name="page_088" id="page_088"></a> Was he ever intended to be -a householder? Should not his portion be to beautify the earth by his -artistic intuition, and let the rest of us, who do not comprehend the A -B C of his art, be the cleaners and the menders? Is not this a people -left like children to build up the semblance of a government from the -wrong stuff? Will not the world in time come to see that one race cannot -be all things; that some must be artists, and some mechanics; that some -must be leaders, and others followers; that some will be the builders of -beauty, to last for all time, and others must be the guardians of -health, the makers of strong, clean men?</p> - -<h3>VII.</h3> - -<p>Why is it that the President’s house,—the great yellow house across the -square, shown us by the Minister of War himself to-day,—one of the -homes of Cipriano Castro, the present Dictator, is nothing more or less -than an arsenal, packed to the full with cartridges, muskets, and -rapid-firing guns, and alive with armed troops? How is it that Castro is -said to have laid by a million dollars<a name="page_089" id="page_089"></a> out of a twelve thousand dollars -a year salary? Why is it that our going into Venezuela was considered by -some unsafe? Why did we shake every bone in our bodies over the upturned -streets and boulders of Caracas? Because the Venezuelan is trying to do -that for which he is not fitted; in which, during all these long years -of constant revolution, he has failed. He, past-master in certain of his -arts, has taught the world his colours and his lights and shades; he has -given to earth notable tokens of his skill in building; but in -house-cleaning—municipal or national—he is out of his element, and -should no more be expected to excel in that line than a babe in arms -should be expected to know the Greek grammar.</p> - -<p>Like all Spaniards he is mediæval in his instincts; he cannot really -govern himself as part of a republic.</p> - -<p>The city of Caracas exemplifies this statement. It is in a horrible -state of dirt and disproportion. Its people are kind and courteous, but -its streets are a nightmare; and over all hovers the strong hand of -military despotism.<a name="page_090" id="page_090"></a></p> - -<h3>VIII.</h3> - -<p>After dinner our first expedition was to call upon the United States -Minister L—— and his wife, who were occupying the former residence of -Count De Toro, some miles out of the city. And what a drive!</p> - -<p>To move comfortably in Caracas, you must either take the donkey -tramway—which never goes where you want to go—or you must walk. But to -walk a half-dozen miles in the hot sun, on a dusty, stony road, is not -particularly inviting, so, with our respects to the sun, we decide to -drive, and all the way out we wonder why we ever did. And yet, had we -walked, I suppose we would have wondered why we hadn’t taken a cab.</p> - -<p>As it was, the dust blew about us from the rolling, bumping wheels in -great clouds, and the big stones in the road sent us careening about -from one side of the carriage to the other. Again we think of Mexico—of -the dust, the parched earth, the <i>arroyos</i>, and the saving mountains -beyond. We pass a dried-up river-bed, where women are washing in a faint -trickle of water, and then we wind about the hill and climb up the rocky -way, enter a sort<a name="page_092" id="page_092"></a><a name="page_093" id="page_093"></a><a name="page_091" id="page_091"></a> of wood, and come suddenly to the minister’s house.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_091_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_091_sml.jpg" width="346" height="230" alt="An Interior Court Caracas, Venezuela" -title="An Interior Court Caracas, Venezuela" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">An Interior Court<br /> -Caracas, Venezuela</span> -</p> - -<p>Our nation’s arms on the gateway make us feel at home, and we jingle the -bell and send in our cards and wait in the shady court. In a few -moments, Minister L—— appears, and with him Mrs. L——, who bids us -enter her cool, delicious drawing-room, very clean and sweet and -old-fashioned and quiet, though the house is truly Spanish, with wide, -airy rooms and curious pictured walls. The men went off up a flight of -stone steps through the garden to the office, to talk politics and the -“Venezuelan situation,†I suppose; while we sat there with the -minister’s wife, who told us much of her life and the customs of the -country, and, among other things, how difficult it is for a -foreigner—even a diplomat—to gain access to the real home-life of the -Spaniard; how the women live shut in, and see but little of the world, -only glimpses now and then, never knowing anything of our Northern -freedom.</p> - -<h3>IX.</h3> - -<p>The drive back to the city was one continuous round of jolt and bump and -dust. We<a name="page_094" id="page_094"></a> rattled down and up the streets which, despite their -narrowness and general dilapidation, could not be utterly devoid of -interest, if viewed from the eyes of the lover of wrought-iron handiwork -and graceful handlings of simple and strong elements in building.</p> - -<p>We were told that it was our duty to view the Municipal Palace, and dear -Sister, although I knew she was tired, did not want anything seeable -omitted; so we most willingly left the cabs at the palace door, with the -hope of never having the agony of that ride repeated.</p> - -<p>As the Spaniard builds his cathedral, so does he impart to each -important structure a fitting grace and dignity of style commensurate -with its office. The Municipal Palace is built about a great hollow -square or plaza, which is filled with palms and other similarly -beautiful vegetation. But, oh, dear! oh, dear! the dust! The great -reception-hall, or audience-chamber,—or whatever one might call -it,—was lined with stately gilt chairs and sofas, done up in linen -dusters. The effort of driving and seeing and jolting and being -agreeable had been such a strain that I just thumped down on one of the -wide sofas and spent my time looking about<a name="page_095" id="page_095"></a> me, while the others -conscientiously made the <i>grande tour</i> from one end of the great room to -the other.</p> - -<p>It is a large oval hall ornamented with some very fine historical -paintings. The Spanish Student had found an obliging officer—for -soldiers are everywhere—and I quietly left the two alone. I thought it -too cruel, after our long drive, to expect him to retranslate for my -benefit, but then there came a faint suspicion in my mind, from a -troubled expression on his face, when the guide launched into the deep -waters of Venezuelan history, with Bolivar rampant and the Spaniards -fleeing, that, possibly, it was not all clear sailing; that, possibly, -this was just the occasion for the last of my phrases. No, I watch the -face; it resumes once more its usual expression of serenity, and I sit -there and think how beautiful it might all be if it were only clean; if -Bolivar could only come back again and teach his children their -unlearned lesson of disinterested self-love of country and home.</p> - -<p>Bolivar appears to have been the only liberator (and each new -“President†who throws out the defeated party and instates himself is<a name="page_096" id="page_096"></a> -called “liberatorâ€) who ever died poor, having spent not only public -funds for the betterment of arts and science and education, but -nine-tenths of his own personal patrimony as well.</p> - -<p>The guide closes the blinds, and our party comes together at the door, -leaving nice little clean spots where they have stood in groups on the -dusty, once highly polished floor, and we turn down the long, wide -balcony to an open door at the end. A brilliantly uniformed, handsome -lad bars admission, for Castro the Great is holding a cabinet meeting -there, and we can see the collar of a black alpaca coat and the back of -a very solemn-looking chair, and hear a low voice speaking,—and that -was all we saw of Castro.</p> - -<p>Some one proposes a drive; some one else suggests the shops, but we -decide to go home. That dear old word sounds lonesome away down here in -South America. Does it mean the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i>? Was this the -home; or was it the wide, out-reaching mountains, fading into the deeps -of night; or the Cathedral, rising from the dread below in her sweet -chastity?<a name="page_097" id="page_097"></a></p> - -<h3>X.</h3> - -<p>Tired bells jangle out the slowly passing time. An ancient carillon -sounds the quarter, an added clang the half, one note more for three -quarters. The long black arms reach to the hour, then another and -another passes, and night brings rest to the Great Mother. But the soft -gentle eyes are no sooner closed than all the children, the white -children at her feet, begin to stir and move, just as yours and mine do -when mother sleeps.</p> - -<p>The old church towers, with sweet grace, wrap about her stately form a -mantle of whitest silver, bordered with great lines of black, and away -above her head, up in God’s garden, forget-me-nots and heartsease -blossom out into twinkling spots of starlit beauty.</p> - -<p>The moon rolls languidly on in the gentlest heaven that earth e’er -looked upon.</p> - -<p>Below, beneath God’s garden, the white children brighten and awaken from -the drowsy languor of the long day. Lights flare out, doors open, and -streets fill with happy voices, and a white-frocked humanity empties -itself into the Plaza to hear yet again the great Military Band of -Caracas.<a name="page_098" id="page_098"></a></p> - -<p>There comes a hush, and then—it must be from the garden away off so -far—there drops a veil,—the veil of forgetfulness, in sounds of music -so inexpressibly tender and alluring as to catch the soul from earth -away up to where white angels gather the forget-me-nots and heartsease. -The crumbling city and its disordered sights, the dust and all -unpleasantness pass away beyond the veil, and all that remains is -covered with the witchery of music.</p> - -<p>To make it real, we, too, join the children and press in close, just as -our little ones do who fear not the expression of their emotions. We, -too, press in where the makers of this wonderful music, sixty of them, -stand in a great semicircle at the head of a flight of stone steps, and -then we listen to the old, eternally old stories of life and love and -joy and tragedy; listen, until our souls are filled to the utmost with -the deeps of life!</p> - -<p>An intermission comes; we take a deep breath; meanwhile he of the -Spanish vocabulary, made bold by enthusiasm, threaded his way to where -the leader of the band was nonchalantly smoking a cigarette, wishing to -congratulate him on the masterful work done by<a name="page_099" id="page_099"></a> his musicians, and also -to thank him for having just played “The Star Spangled Banner,†in -honour of the Americans present.</p> - -<p>Shrugging his shoulders, the bandmaster remarked that his men had almost -forgotten that American thing, as it was twelve years since last they -played it! Thus does the Venezuelan show his love for these United -States. But we forget that in the charm of the reawakened melody, for it -is the kind of music that speaks real things; that brings the great -forgetting of things visible; that brings the great remembering of -things eternal. Mellow notes, as from the throat of a blackbird, slip -through the liquid night as softly as the splash of feathered warblers -in the cool water brooks, and when the strong word is uttered, it comes -forth like the voice of a seer, unjarring, made strong through great -tenderness.</p> - -<p>Closer and closer we press to lose not the slightest note, and we -realise that it is the music which comes to our cold Northern senses but -once in a lifetime, and our ears plead for more and yet more. No strings -could ever have so mellowed themselves into the loveliness of that night -as did those liquid oboes, whose<a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a> sylvan tones filtered through our -senses with ineffable sweetness. The wood and brass seemed to have been -tempered by long nights of tears and days of smiles, so ripened were -they into an expression of the soul of humanity.</p> - -<p>At last the Great Mother sleeps, her children are tired and go to rest, -and God’s garden blossoms away, away off beyond in the far country.<a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br /><br /> -<small>IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS</small></h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HE choice lay between a luncheon on board our vessel down in the hot -harbour of La Guayra, with President Cipriano Castro and his suite -invited as guests of honour by the German officers, or an added day in -Caracas; and then a glimpse of South America on our way by Valencia to -Puerto Cabello, where we would again take ship. The question was -well-discussed, <i>pro</i> and <i>con</i>, and finally decided in favour of -Venezuela, the country <i>versus</i> Castro, its dictator. After all, General -Castro was not so very different from the other Venezuelans all about -us, except in that great element, his personal success for the time -being; and then you know we did see his alpaca coat and the back of his -chair, and we heard his voice in the council-chamber,—at least we<a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a> -thought we did,—and that really ought to be enough to satisfy any one.</p> - -<p>In a way, we did feel satisfied, and yet there was a lingering -inclination toward that luncheon. It might be that, for once, the great -man would look, act, appear just a little different from the every-day -sort. It was only a remnant of the everlasting hope for a perfect -adjustment of mind and body,—that futile phantasmagoria which would -make the great man great in all things. And to give up and leave Castro -in a common, every-day alpaca coat,—and only the back of it at -that,—when we might see him in gold lace and gorgeous uniform, well, it -was too bad; but then old common sense comes lumbering along and spoils -the whole thing, and tells us it’s no use, no use at all, mourning over -the impossible; he’s only a man, and a little man at that, and there are -plenty of fine men all over the world, and there’s only one South -America; and so and so on, until the balance weighs so heavily against -the Castro faction that, when the time came to take the train for La -Guayra, we divided the party, sent the little girls back to<a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a> the ship -with our friends, and turned ourselves loose upon the sunny streets of -Caracas.</p> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<p>We had no guide-book, no one told us what to do, no one seemed to know -what we ought to do; so, freed from all restraint, we had the delightful -sensation of unlimited liberty.</p> - -<p>It was Ash Wednesday and the church-bells rang incessantly. We took to -the left, passing the Cathedral, whose black shades enveloped one after -another of the faithful, and kept straight on, to where the women in -white frocks and lace mantillas, and the black serving-girls with -baskets, and the small boys, and trains of burros were streaming down in -the direction of the market. Most naturally we join the procession, now -in the street, with the cabs and carriers of all sorts of things, and -now jostling in among the people on the narrow sidewalk of the shady -side.</p> - -<p>We have no intention of telling about the flies and the smells and the -dirt. They were all there and can easily be pictured, and we really have -no intention of staying but a moment in the market, for we have seen so -many<a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a> before; but once a part of the big throng of buyers and sellers; -once fairly free from the South Americans who insist upon speaking -English, once free to use our own laboriously acquired Spanish, we stay -on and on, buy and eat all sorts of curious fruit, until we fear for the -consequences, and are delightfully uncomfortable and happy.</p> - -<p>It was a surprise to find in Caracas a market which surpassed in -varieties and quantities any other place we had ever seen.</p> - -<p>Caracas, with its abortive palms, its dusty, dried-up appearance, gave -one the impression of unproductiveness; and the dinner of the night -before, with meat, meat, meat,—an exaggerated Trinidadian affair—led -us to expect anything but fresh, sweet, delectable fruits; but here they -were in masses! We had searched every port for pineapples, and these -were the first ones we had found which answered to our ideals formed -years ago by the pineapples of Amatlan and Southeastern Mexico. And such -dear little thin-skinned refreshing limes! I wonder why they are not -exported more freely in place of the big, thick-coated lemons? I suppose -the impression prevails<a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a> that the American wants everything on a big -scale, so he gets the big lemon in place of the dainty aromatic lime. -There we found in great abundance all the fruits with which we had grown -familiar on the islands, but more surprising, the fruits of the -temperate regions as well. There were some queer kinds of melons, too. -We tried them, of course; we tried everything, buying here a slice of -pineapple for <i>dos centavos</i>, and over at another stall a <i>medio’s</i> -worth of mangoes; then we take up a piece of a curious fruit and examine -it rather suspiciously. Its meat is yellow and covered with little black -seeds, just the size and appearance of capers, and when one eats it, the -seed is the only element of flavour. It has so exactly the taste of -water-cress that one needs to use considerable will-power to believe it -is a melon, and not a salad.</p> - -<p>Here were grapes, both white and black, and sweet and sour lemons, and -all sizes of oranges. There were peaches and apricots, and curious -little apples, about the size of a small crab-apple; and delicious -little Alpine strawberries from away up in the Andes, and then there -were in every stall mangoes, and sapodillas,<a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a> and granaditas, and -pineapples sweet as honey and luscious, and curious aguacotes and -zapotas and many unknown fruits—besides the ever-present cocoanut.</p> - -<p>And vegetables! I only wish we could tell you the names of all the -aromatic herbs and green stuffs spread out to tempt us. But there was -one thing we did recognise at first sight: the beans—nine different -varieties in one stall and maybe as many more in another—“<i>frijoles de -todas clases</i>,†the market-woman announced for our encouragement. A -procession of bulging baskets crowds us along out of the market, and we -move on to make room for a stream of empty baskets coming from the -opposite direction.</p> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<p>We take a straightaway course down toward the ever-beautiful curves of a -massive old church, some blocks off, and on the way, with the wanderer’s -prerogative, step into the open door of a fine modern building, -apparently a bank. The Spanish Student walks up to a grilled window in -the court to get an American gold piece changed into Venezuelan -bolivars<a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a> and is at once invited to enter. The president and -vice-president of the bank were at conference in a finely appointed, -spacious office, and as we appeared, both greeted us most cordially and -addressed us in perfect English. The weather started the ball of -conversation rolling, and from that we chatted on about the voyage, and -the islands, and all sorts of things; and then the men launched into a -discussion of the political situation, and from that to the power -Germany was acquiring in a mercantile way in their country. And they -told us how the Germans came there with their families, and taught their -children from babyhood the language and customs of the South Americans, -at the same time holding firmly their grasp of the mother tongue and the -thrifty business methods of their home concerns. Thus given from infancy -this advantage of a thorough knowledge of the language and customs of -the country, they acquire a prestige with which no amount of ability in -a foreigner can compete should he be less ably equipped. How dangerous -to America is becoming this Teutonic power and prestige we do not -realise, for who can fathom the ambition and persistency of<a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a> the Kaiser -and his subjects in South America—Germans all, though thousands of -miles from Berlin?</p> - -<p>I could but admire the facility and ease with which these South American -men of affairs expressed themselves in English, and I thought, how few -there were of us who could thus readily express ourselves in Spanish. It -came to me forcibly that the American who is truly far-sighted, is the -one who is acquiring, and having his children acquire, a good speaking -knowledge of Spanish; for the time is surely coming when our need of -Spanish will be far greater than to-day. The time is coming, if we guard -our interests aright, when these South Americans will look to the North -for a closer bond than now exists, and when that time does come, the man -most potent in the new relation will be he who can, by a knowledge of -the language, customs, and habits, place himself in perfect sympathy -with his South American brothers. And we must remember, too, that we are -dealing with men whose education is based upon the time-honoured culture -of an old world, men of attainment, of polish and policy, of strength -and<a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a> power; however much that power may be at times misguided, there is -latent great force and adaptability.</p> - -<p>The South American is a man of marked and strong mental ability, and is -already—and for that matter has for years been—modelling his laws -after those of his more fortunate younger brother of the Northern -continent. It is not in proper law and forms of government that he -lacks, but in their proper enforcement, and back of all in the muzzling -of that healthy public interest that would demand their enforcement. -However much he fails in government, the time when his country will be -dispassionately ruled by fixed and just legislation is hoped for by such -men as the officers of this bank. For how can the country’s business go -on amid the turmoil of ever-impending revolution?</p> - -<p>These West Indian Islands and South America, combined, have been used by -all nations who have profited by their marvellous productiveness merely -for what can be gotten out of them through one resource and another; -even North Americans themselves are not above reproach in their quarrels -over the Venezuelan<a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a> Pitch Lake concessions, which was then a subject of -keen interest. But in spite of the fact that some Americans have been -feathering their nests from this foreign down, still I believe that our -people will eventually lead the world in true philanthropy,—the -philanthropy of development and honest business methods, and that ours -should be the hand that brings to the South American the solution of his -great difficulties; directed not to annexation of these Southern lands, -but to helping in the evolution of a stable, self-respecting independent -government.</p> - -<p>South America is waiting for the great hand, for the great liberator of -the land from the faults and follies of its own sons, and when he comes -he will find a country rich to overflowing in unrealised possibilities. -The curse of these countries seems to be in the love of the Spanish -American for political intrigue, which periodically bears fruit in the -bogus political “liberator,†throbbing with meretricious and -self-seeking ambition which he bombastically labels “Patriotism.â€</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_111_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_111_sml.jpg" width="346" height="232" alt="Cathedral and Plaza Caracas, Venezuela Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." -title="Cathedral and Plaza Caracas, Venezuela Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Cathedral and Plaza<br /> -Caracas, Venezuela<br /> -<small>Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.</small></span> -</p> - -<p>If you had stood face to face with two such well-poised types of -conservative South Ameri<a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a><a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a><a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a>cans as we met that morning, I feel sure that -you, too, might hope for a great future for this country, could it but -be represented and led by its best men.</p> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<p>With courteous good wishes, we left the señors’ pleasant company, and -went on, still in the direction of a church-tower. The shops were far -from interesting, much like others down in the islands, with the -exception of a chocolate-shop, which we found to be the sales office of -a factory where a great deal of prepared chocolate is made, for Caracas -is a great chocolate market. After we had filled our pockets with all we -could carry, of chocolate blocks and chocolate fishes and chocolate -dolls, we started on again, munching the chocolate as we went, until we -came at last to the Cathedral, which was in a state of mortar and lime -and scaffolding, due to having the cracks from last October’s earthquake -doctored up in the same matter-of-fact way that we clean house in the -spring.</p> - -<p>Well, we were glad at last to have seen the inside of the Cathedral, for -even without the<a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a> suggestion of a guide-book, we had in a sort of way -felt that we ought to do so; such a slave of “Ought†does the traveller -become, in spite of utmost precaution.</p> - -<p>By this time the sun was nearing noon, and we naturally turned in the -direction of the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i> as the only available place -in which to rest; that is, I thought it was the only available place, -but the Spanish Student knew better. How he knew, or when he had -experimented, he would not say, nor could the truth be forced or dragged -from him, as he walked on toward the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i>; but I -had a suspicion, from the decided click to his step, and a lurking joy -in his eye, that he had forsaken the Gran Hotel de Venezuela; that he -had discovered a new Arcadia, and, oh! it was so delightful to feel that -it was not the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i>. Then he stopped at a -lattice,—I am sure there wasn’t a door in the house—at the lattice of -an enticing <i>Dulceria</i>, and we sat down where it was cool and quiet, and -I waited to see what would happen. <i>El propietorio</i> appears. At once, at -the sight of the Spanish Student, the señor smiles, and disappears. They -had met<a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a> before. The señor enters once more,—for we are not to be left -to an ordinary waiter,—this time with two tall glasses,—very tall, -thin glasses.</p> - -<p>If you could only have felt the fatigue of that moment! We had tramped -about three hours, under the high, white sun, with the drowsy spell of -noon creeping stealthily over the city, and even over the insatiable -tourist; if you could have been with us to have seen the two tall -glasses, filled to the brim, placed on the table by mine host himself, -you, too, would have concluded that it was no small matter to be thus -refreshed. It looked like lemonade, and yet it didn’t, and it -tasted,—well there’s no other explanation possible; it was bewitched. -Mine host had crossed his heart, looked twice over his right shoulder, -turned three times on his left toe, and then pronounced the spell.</p> - -<p>One taste convinced me that it took a lot of things to make that -lemonade,—a lot of things besides limes and water, and whatever that -lot of things was, it was the finest combination I had ever known. Mine -host pronounced it lemonade; so did the Spanish<a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a> Student, though I heard -him suggest “<i>un poquito de Rom Imperial</i>†to the señor. With one taste, -all fatigue took wings, everything took wings. The bent-wood table -capered off with the bent-wood chair, and the long, fly-specked mirror -cavorted from side to side with the parrot-cage. Everything was lovely -and undulatory, and life was one long oblivion of the red-headed -housekeeper at the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i>.</p> - -<p>He, the one opposite, leaned back and looked amused and satisfied, and -said: “There’s more coming.â€</p> - -<p>“What, more lemonade?â€</p> - -<p>“No, not more lemonade, but more of something else.â€</p> - -<p>And then it came. Again two tall glasses of a delicious rose-coloured -ice, made of fresh wild strawberries, gathered that morning among the -glistening dew of the Andes. In the centre of the ice, like the rakish -masts of a fairy’s ship, two richly browned, delicate tubes of sweetened -pastry bore the ensign of our feast.</p> - -<p>They reminded me of the lamplighters we<a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a> children used to make at a -penny a hundred, on winter evenings by the crackling coal fire.</p> - -<p>You remember? Or have you never had the fun?</p> - -<p>You take a bit of paper an inch wide and twelve inches long, wet your -finger, give a queer kind of twist to one corner and up it rolls, in a -long, neat shape. Double it over at the end, and there you are. -Sometimes it unwinds, and then it is exactly like the confectioner’s -roll in Caracas, only white instead of a rich, luscious brown.</p> - -<p>From that moment on, all other attractions of Caracas, the University, -the <i>Casa Amarilla</i>, the Pantheon, palled in attraction before that -<i>Dulceria</i>. It became to us, and to every one we met, the loadstone of -Caracas. To taste of an ice made from berries picked among the valleys -of the Andes is no small matter, and to quaff a lemonade which, without -suspicion, could still fashion wings at least as lasting as those of -Icarus of old, is also no small matter, and may we not be forgiven and -no questions asked if we confess to more than one return to the -<i>Dulceria</i> shop just across the Plaza in Caracas?<a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a></p> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<p>Four o’clock was the hour appointed for the coming together of our -diminished party, and until then the <i>Gran Hotel de Venezuela</i> was -supposed to hold me in its ancient decrepitude, and it did hold me until -about three o’clock; when the bells set up such a clanging, and were so -zealous to get me up and out of bed and into their mid-afternoon -vespers, that I finally yielded to their summons, and, making a hasty -toilet, stole down the creaking stairs and out into the streets.</p> - -<p>No Northern city at midnight is more soundly asleep than the tropical -town in mid-afternoon. The heavy white blinds are down, the green -lattices closed tightly, awnings dropped close before the shop-doors; -while the cabby and his horse, on guard near the Plaza, doze in willing -slumber. The market is empty, the little donkeys are long since browsing -upon the green slopes of the foot-hills; the street criers are still, -the whole world seems dead asleep, and, as I slipped along toward the -Cathedral, the drowsy chanting of priests’ voices was the only sound -which broke the quiescence of that delicious afternoon. For delicious<a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a> -it was, in truth. All of God’s part was in its perfectness. The air was -sweetly cool and refreshing, with a flavour of mountain ozone mingled -with the sunlight, and, as I came to a cross street, looking up the long -narrow, white reach to the foot-hills, it was with a bit of imagining, -like a glimpse through the tube of a huge kaleidoscope, with the green -and purple and blue and yellow mountains an ever-changing vista of -resplendent colour in the vanishing distance.</p> - -<p>The priests’ voices called out again, and I entered the high-domed, -sweet place of worship. The chancel and altar were being repaired, so it -was in the oblong nave that the priests, white-robed, rich with lace and -embroidery, sat in ancient carved chairs, saying in responsive chants -the words decreed for Ash Wednesday. The priests were old, and some were -very feeble, and it seemed at times an effort for them to rise when the -service demanded. A number of young men, of lesser dignity, assisted, -and two little acolytes in red sat quite at the end of the row of -priests. Still the chanting goes on and on, and the voices are -monotonously sleepy, and long drifts of<a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a> mellow, shaded light drop down -on the white robes, and one of the priests yawns, and the little acolyte -nods, and then goes fast asleep; and up overhead the lofty dome reëchoes -the somnolent voices, and I hear the old bells telling me about four -o’clock, but they seem very indistinct and sleepy and uninterested. And -I feel sleepy and nod, and wonder if it’s the priests’ voices or the -bells that put everybody to sleep, and I forget all about four o’clock -until a workman way down near the altar, perched on a high ladder, -mending more cracks, knocks off a piece of plaster, and I start and look -around, then tiptoe out; while the bells tell me that the quarter-hour -is gone with the rest of the day.</p> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<p>Caracas is responsible for a decided turning about from some of my -former estimates of the Spanish character. It is not necessary to say -just exactly what these preconceived opinions were, but they were there, -and as I supposed, a fixture. In the children’s neighbourhood brawls, I -have noticed frequently that, whenever vengeance was to be meted upon -some offending<a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a> head, he was called by one and all, “a Spaniard.†That -was enough to arouse all the wrath of his youthful spirit into -rebellion, and until the word was recalled, war reigned. This of course -is largely since our late trouble with Spain. I shall not say that the -use of the word exactly represented my state of mind toward the South -Americans, but, in spite of the many pleasant experiences of years gone -by in Mexico, I shall confess to a somewhat allied feeling with regard -to that name, and to all people who are in any way affiliated with the -race, and I dare say that something of this same prejudice has existed -among our people at large for some time, and not altogether without -cause.</p> - -<p>To have that impression partially removed was one of the results of an -evening spent at the opera in Caracas, where General Cipriano Castro had -arranged an especially fine performance to be given in honour of the -North Americans then visiting his republic. The opera-house was -decorated in our nation’s colours, intertwined with the yellow, red, and -blue of Venezuela, and every seat not taken by our party was occupied by -the representative<a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a> citizens of Caracas. The performance—a light, comic -opera—was of excellent standard, and passed off with great applause. -Much as we enjoyed the music, the Venezuelans themselves were our -greatest object of interest.</p> - -<p>The house was apportioned in the usual foreign style, with two tiers of -boxes circling on either side from the President’s box in the rear -centre. The women, as usual, occupied the front seats in the boxes, and -were thus in a position to be seen and observed very closely. And -never—I make no exception, no exception whatever—have I seen such -modest, womanly appearing women as were present at the opera that night. -They did not giggle nor stare nor flirt. They were richly, beautifully, -becomingly gowned, but, although arrayed with a desire to please, they -were as modest and unassuming as a lot of little girls at a doll’s -tea-party. Their eyes no sooner met yours than they dropped,—not -affectedly, but naturally, naïvely,—and it was impossible to refrain -from forming an opinion of the conditions of society from the faces and -actions of these women.</p> - -<p>Women make society what it is; they make<a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a> it right, high, true, and -pure; they make it wrong, low, false, and vile, and the general -appearance and actions of the women of a country, studied by an observer -of human nature, will tell more truthfully the moral condition of a -people than any book ever written.</p> - -<p>Whatever faults the Spaniard may have bequeathed to his descendants; -whatever his failings in government and kindred problems, the women, -these beautiful women of Caracas, made us feel that they had set for -themselves high standards of morality; that the social life was away -beyond the level we had expected; that the family—the wife—is a sacred -trust given the man to protect in honour and virtue so long as he lives.</p> - -<p>There is, no doubt, much to be said against the rigid life of seclusion -led by the Spanish women, but there is this to be said in its favour: it -has created a race of men who honour and respect their homes, a race of -men whose attitude toward women is universally respectful and -deferential. With all our stiff-necked New England self-sufficiency, we -have yet much to learn, we women of the North, and let it not be beneath -our dignity to remember that the<a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a> South American women have some lessons -learned which we have yet to master; and perhaps there are none who -could teach us more gently or more effectively than the modest, womanly -women of Caracas.<a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.<br /><br /> -<small>IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS TO PUERTO CABELLO</small></h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span>ND now we are at the railway station, headed for Valencia and Puerto -Cabello, still determined to continue unguided back to the coast.</p> - -<p>There was to me something so extraordinary in the thought that, for -once, we were really to get ahead of the professional guides, that it -required repeated and oft repeated assurances to at least one of the -women of our circle from the kindly official at the railway station, to -relieve all doubts as to the wisdom of our plans. Of course, the men of -our party had no doubts, at least, none were expressed; and yet some of -us, particularly the writer, could hardly believe that the train we were -to take would carry us on through Valencia, past the lovely Lake of -Valencia down to Puerto Cabello, a half-hour<a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a> in advance of the Special -Train with the Special Courier; that we would be a half-hour earlier at -luncheon in the mountains, and a half an hour earlier that evening in -reaching Puerto Cabello; and this latter would be no small consideration -after a long, hot ride from mountain-top to sandy beach.</p> - -<p>But this was to be the case, so the official informed us, not only in -Spanish, but in French, and very perfect French, too—for not -understanding Spanish, we women of course had to hear it all over again -in French; so we left the party, and boarded the regular morning train -for Valencia, amidst the warnings of many, the doubts of all the timid -ones, and the envy of a few jollier spirits. What would become of us, if -this train should make up its mind not to go through to Puerto Cabello, -and drop us at La Victoria, or San Joaquin perhaps; and what if the -much-lauded Special should after all fly on and leave us in the -mountains, high and dry, a half-day’s journey to Puerto Cabello, with no -means of reaching the ship on sailing-time; and what if our pretty boat -should sail away to God’s country, and leave us literally stranded, -marooned for weeks,<a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a><a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a><a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a> on the sun-blighted beach of Puerto Cabello, -waiting for a ship?</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_127_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_127_sml.jpg" width="342" height="234" alt="A House beside the Sea Puerto Cabello, Venezuela" -title="A House beside the Sea Puerto Cabello, Venezuela" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">A House beside the Sea<br /> -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela</span> -</p> - -<p>A thousand “ifs†are flung at us, but there stands the big, handsome -South American railway official, with a rose in his buttonhole, patent -leathers on his feet, and a smile on his face, and visible support in -every attitude of his fine body; so we settle down, reassured, and look -around to count heads, and we check off—all but one, the Doctor,—he is -not at the station. Where is he? Where is the Doctor? He has sworn to -stand by us to the end; in fact had been one of the prime movers in this -venture, and here we are ready to start, even the men are aboard the -funny little train, and the Doctor not in sight.</p> - -<p>Ten anxious heads lean out from ten abbreviated windows; ten distressed -voices ask in all available tongues, “Where is the Doctor?†We ask the -official—the one with the rose—if he has seen one called the Doctor, -with bland, smiling face, round and jovial; blue eyes, light hair, -walking with a confident, easy swing, wearing a linen suit and East -Indian pith helmet. No one answering that description had come to the -station. Fully half an hour<a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a> before we left the <i>Gran Hotel de -Venezuela</i>, the Doctor had taken a cab, so that there should be no doubt -or question as to his being on time; for the Doctor was an orderly man, -of decided opinions and exact habits. He was never known to be late at -an appointment. He had with him the free untrammelled air of the -unmarried man. He had neither wife to detain, nor sweetheart to beguile -him. He was a free-lance, and yet here it was, a moment before the time -for departure, and the Doctor nowhere to be seen.</p> - -<p>The train shivers, quivers, gives a bump or so, squeaks out a funny -foreign whistle, and we are moving out of Caracas. Ten of us instead of -eleven. Ten much troubled wanderers, thinking and wondering a very great -deal. We pass the curious little chapel upon the hill, with its five -disjointed little steeples, looking as if one more quake of the grand -old Mother would topple them all over for good; pass the low <i>adobe</i> -huts on the outskirts of the city, and then catch a last glimpse of the -Cathedral and its dear old bells, and the trees about the Square of -Bolivar; and are almost into the rich country, outlaying the great -city.<a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a> But where is the Doctor! Had he been beguiled or waylaid, or had -he waited for one too many a sip of the unforgettable lemonade; or had -he gone to sleep with the priests under the magic of the old bells?</p> - -<p>No, nothing seemed to fit in just right. The Doctor had reached years of -discretion, he knew the wiles of women, and, as for being waylaid, that -was hardly possible, for he always carried his chest high; and, as for -the priests,—no, it was not the priests, for the Doctor had paid his -respect to the Cathedral the day before. Hadn’t we seen his white hat -disappear under the big, open doorway as we were on the way to market? -But the lemonade,—there was the hitch; he might have longed for one -more glimpse of the <i>Dulceria</i>, and the tall glass and the indescribable -nectar,—<i>con un poquito de Rom Imperial</i>,—yes, he might have done so, -any normal being might have done so, and that must be the whole trouble; -then, just as we had decided on the lemonade, we stop at Palo-Grande, -out in the gardens beyond the town, and into the car rushed a red-faced, -very mad American, with satchels and luggage and souvenirs in his hands, -and<a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a> rage upon his face,—the Doctor; none more—none less,—the lost -wanderer!</p> - -<p>If any one was ever welcome, he was. We figuratively threw our arms -about him, and wept with joy at the return of our long-lost brother. The -Doctor’s face was a study. From despair, it changed to delight, and he -flung himself into a seat, too happy to speak. But the Doctor was not -slow in giving us an explanation. He had been experimenting on some very -choice, newly acquired Spanish. That was the trouble, and instead of -taking him to the city station, the cabby, probably anxious for a good -fare, had driven about five miles to the first way-station on the road. -I did not think the Doctor could ever have been disconcerted under any -circumstances, but he was as thoroughly scared as one has need to be and -live; and for the rest of the day, every few minutes, he would break out -with some forceful expression about fool Americans who couldn’t speak -Spanish and fool Spaniards who couldn’t speak English. We all then and -there decided that we would learn Spanish or die. One or the other we -are sure to do.<a name="page_133" id="page_133"></a></p> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<p>It is a difficult matter to engage the Doctor in either scenery or -conversation, and, in spite of all the wonders in which we find -ourselves, as the plucky little train hurries along, it is a sort of -laugh and jollification all the way with the Doctor.</p> - -<p>I shall never forget the willows at the station where our Doctor -appeared. They were so exquisitely graceful and beautiful. They were -tall, with somewhat of the habits of the Lombardy poplar, close-limbed, -sinewy, and with the plumy grace of a bunch of feathers, bending, -bowing, whirling, swishing, in the cool mountain air, and I shall always -think of them as the Doctor’s willows; for just as his frightened face -popped into the door, in the twinkling of an eye, I glanced out of the -window, and there stood that row of tall willows, like coy, young -maidens, bowing their gentle heads in graceful congratulation. The -Doctor’s willow was to me one of the rarest, sweetest trees of that -wonderful day of trees, of that wonderful world of trees, of that -wonderful land of infinite beauties, known only to those whose eyes have -touched the vibration of their being.<a name="page_134" id="page_134"></a> This willow, modest, unassuming -as it is, so unlikely to attract attention, without flower or colour, -other than the richest green that sunshine ever bestowed upon a leaf, -was in its way as exquisite as a dream of lace and dew-drops, as tender -as the sound of a lute, as sweetly sinuous as the drop of a violet’s -head; and the mountain air, filtering through the thin, arrow-like -leaves, was music fit for gods,—not men.</p> - -<p>But the Doctor would not look at the willows, nor at the tall -grass—tall—tall—tall—following along the bed of a limpid stream—the -Guaira—tumbling along over pools and rocks and mossy beds; grasses so -high that even Jack’s famous giants must needs stand on tiptoe to peep -over the top; grass twenty to thirty feet high, with feathery plumes -gracing the tall spires in masses of waving beauty. He would not see the -beauty of the picture that the Great Mother showed us, for he was still -in a dazed state of combined bewilderment, anger, and joy, and you know -it takes time to find one’s feet after such an experience.</p> - -<p>But did I tell you how as usual bravery was rewarded? When we boarded -the train, we<a name="page_135" id="page_135"></a> noticed our coach was unusually fine for a Venezuelan -railway, and we wondered at it. Later the conductor explained that it -was the private car of the general manager, all the common coaches being -taken up to complete the Special Train; and so the Doctor was at last -content.</p> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<p>Speeding along over the lordly plateau beyond Caracas, through a country -where the faintest effort on the part of man to cultivate the earth, the -least scratch with the hoe, meets with more than abundant response, -where, even in the high mountain altitude, sweet fields of cane and -coffee bring restful green and delicious shades in the ever-pervading -sunlight, we were entertained by some of the party, who were prophesying -a hard day and a hot day with a relish which was quite enviable. Why is -it that there must always be those who are constantly anticipating hot -weather? It seems to be out of the question to escape them; they either -predict that it will be, must be, unbearably hot, or unbearably cold, -according to the latitude in which they happen to be found.<a name="page_136" id="page_136"></a> There seems -to be no way of getting along comfortably with the present. So we -listened while dire forebodings were omened for Valencia, and worse for -Puerto Cabello.</p> - -<p>In the meantime one of our friends,—Mrs. M—— from Boston,—was -suffering with a severe headache, and the Doctor, who had been in the -seat ahead of us, was asked if, in that small, black, -professional-looking valise, there was not something to relieve her -pain. And then the Doctor broke forth once more:</p> - -<p>“There’s no use. I can’t stand this any longer. I was called up last -night for the sick man in the after-deck stateroom; after each port I am -asked to prescribe for men suffering from swizzle jags, and I’m routed -out at all hours, and buttonholed by nervous women I don’t know. I wish -I could help Mrs. M——; nothing would make me happier. But to tell the -truth, I’m not a doctor. I am only a plain business man—a manufacturer. -Somehow, when the passenger-list was made up, I was put in as ‘Doctor -S——’ and the list was printed and circulated before I knew of my -title. Then every one called me ‘Doctor,’ and it was such an easy name -to catch that I thought <a name="page_137" id="page_137"></a>I’d just let it go, and I’ve been ‘Doctor’ to -every one ever since; but when it comes to setting a leg or curing a -headache, I must put an end to it.â€</p> - -<p>But the name had become fixed. It was there to stay, so the Doctor was -the “Doctor†in spite of his lack of diploma, and, in one sense, by his -good cheer, his readiness to join in fun, his stock of good stories, and -his consideration for others, he was quite as beneficial to our -sometimes weary selves, as if he carried his pockets full of bitter -tonic and invigorating elixirs.</p> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<p>In front of us sat the Doctor; back of us sat a young South American -from “up country,†with whom we entered into conversation, and from whom -we learned much to confirm our rapidly forming opinions of his great -country—Venezuela. He spoke English well, having been educated -partially in England, partially in New York. He came from the Province -of Colombo, to me a very indefinite, remotely hidden-away place -somewhere in the Andes, accessible only by two or three days’ journey<a name="page_138" id="page_138"></a> -from Caracas, partly by mule and partly by boat up the Maracaibo River. -By the way, we are told that Colombo is the native state of that peppery -little dictator—the present President Castro.</p> - -<p>This South American gentleman had been sent to Caracas to interview -Castro and his ministers with regard to a loan of twenty thousand -dollars in horses, cattle, and provisions made during the last -revolution to the faction which had placed Castro in power; the -transaction had evidently been dignified by the soothing name of “a -loan†because the quondam cowboy leader Castro had ended as a -self-elected President. Just what our fellow traveller’s success had -been, we were unable to learn or he to tell, for this same General -Castro is a wily bird and keeps many an honest Venezuelan guessing. He -told us what we already knew,—that Venezuela needs peace—peace—peace, -and that, until she is assured of peace, her great hands must be idle. -We needed no words to assure us of her greatness. It was there before -us. The idle hands were clasping rich harvests unsown, rich treasures in -gold and silver glittered upon her fingers, and<a name="page_139" id="page_139"></a> following the sweep of -her green mantle, there was a race of warm-hearted children, within -whose being there was the making of great men and women. But there must -be peace. For, when there is war, her great men go to the front, her -brave men are killed; but in some unfortunate way her political schemers -and professional revolutionists survive, and are always ready to make -new trouble. “He who fights and runs away will live to fight another -day.â€</p> - -<p>And so they run away—the unsuccessful ones—to Curaçao, to Paris, or to -some of the neighbouring South American states, but their dirty shadows -ever hang imminent on the horizon.</p> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<p>During the conversation with our South American friends, we had reached -the end of the plateau, and the descent began into the great valley -below. It was not until we reached that point that we realised the -wonder of this Venezuelan railroad, or that we understood the reason of -its being called the “Great Venezuelan Railway‗<i>Gran Ferrocarril de -Venezuela<a name="page_140" id="page_140"></a></i>. Like the greater portion of all the business enterprises in -South America and the West Indies, the railroad was built by Germans. -Krupp, of gun fame, was named as the head of the company, and too much -cannot be said of the courage and skill of men who undertook to build a -road under such difficulties. There are railways of difficult -construction all over the world, indeed, but never, in our experience, -were we more impressed with the magnitude of an undertaking than we were -with the construction of this masterful road; though one might well -criticise the business judgment of men who would thus put millions of -dollars into an enterprise that apparently can never be self-supporting. -Think of it, eighty-seven tunnels through rocky mountain spurs, one -hundred and twenty heavy steel bridges between Caracas and Valencia, -miles of rock-cutting and costly filling, and all this to carry a -handful of passengers and a few tons of freight each day—altogether not -enough to load one of our “mixed trains†in the States!</p> - -<p>It follows where cataracts leap a thousand feet, where rivers boil in -thundering roar over mighty rocks; it cuts the mountain top asunder<a name="page_141" id="page_141"></a> and -dashes through the rock-hewn lap of earth; it drops down through the -tops of giant trees, and robs the morning of her mist; it mingles with -the clouds, and anon kisses the feet of the ocean—but it doesn’t pay -dividends.</p> - -<p>From its heights, the earth stretches out in wonderful ridges of -gigantic proportion; geography becomes real, a fact, seen in the great -perspective. The air is so clear that the eye seems to have new power of -vision to reach to the uttermost end of the earth; the eye imparts to -the soul its larger horizon, and a great leap of joy carries the spirit -into the infinite room of creation, into the infinite grandeur of -created things, and the spirit grows and feels its small estimate of -God’s earth expanding into a newer, grander conception of creation. -Mountain ridges sweep through tremendous space, one upon another, and at -their base, thousands of feet below, a green pillow of sugar-cane -invites the head and heart to quiescence. No word “green†can ever bring -back the quivering, transparent green of those young cane-fields, far -below in the valleys, watered<a name="page_142" id="page_142"></a> by the careful hand of man in thousands -of tiny streams of irrigation.</p> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<p>The morning was just what it should be in spite of the croakers, and the -immensity of nature had imparted to our spirits much of her buoyancy; so -when the train came to a halt, we jumped with alacrity from the little -coach, and sought among the people for the human interest, which was as -ever very great. The route was dotted with charming stations, each one -flying a German and Venezuelan flag in delightful amity—for the Germans -impress the South American first with their greatness and then with -their friendliness; the mailed hand is shown only as the last resort.</p> - -<p>Here were stations green and beflowered, in sweet good order, with -fountains and running streams, and booths where we bought ginger cookies -and Albert biscuit and <i>cervesa Inglesa</i> and all sorts of fruit; and -back of the stations, hints of quaint old churches with distant bells, -and gathering about the mother church, blue and white and yellow -glimpses of queer old houses. And oh! the colour! The flowering<a name="page_143" id="page_143"></a> trees! -What artist could ever reach the delicacy of the <i>Maria</i> tree, one mass -of living pearls. Its branches so full of flower that there seemed to be -no room for leaf; the branch only there by sufferance. At La Victoria, -where we stop for luncheon, in a curious little café under a confident -German flag, our family interpreter disappears, and in a few minutes -returns in the likeness of a Thracian god, bedecked with garlands, pink -and white. He covers my lap with rarest blossoms, gives them to one and -all, and brings into the dusty coach a fragrance of Elysium. I long to -keep the flowers for ever; I long to hold that colour in such security -that it can never escape; I long to enclose that essence in some secret -shrine for ever. And shall I say I have not?</p> - -<h3>VII.</h3> - -<p>As we rush along down, nearing the Great Mother’s mighty limbs, we pass -drooping arbours of <i>Bucari</i>, another flowering tree of wonderful -splendour, each flower like a glorious wax <i>Cattleya</i>, and millions of -them at a glance. Just then, as the blaze of beauty dazzles our eyes, -two brilliantly green parrots, frightened<a name="page_144" id="page_144"></a> by the noisy interloper, take -flight from under their beauteous canopy, and wing their way in yellow, -green, and red vibrations through the scintillating landscape. We are -now flying along on a level stretch, in a high, rich valley, full of -luscious fruits and ripening harvests, and before the mountain opens to -receive us into one of its deep tunnels, we see large fields of a low -bush, growing quite in the nature of young coffee, with much the same -size and general appearance; without, however, the customary -shade-trees. Our friend from Colombo explained that it is tapioca; and -off beyond, in this next, white-walled <i>hacienda</i> (what a world of -dreams and romance of the land of <i>siempre mañana</i> comes to one in that -combination of ordinary vowels and consonants—“<i>hacienda</i>â€!), in the -<i>Hacienda Las Palomas</i>,—or was it the <i>Hacienda La Sierra</i> or <i>La -Mata</i>, or <i>Guaracarima</i>?—the natives gather from the green river -valleys, maize and beans and yucca, in the language of the country, -“<i>frutas menores</i>;†but more abundantly than all else, are gathered the -coffee and the sugar in vast crops year by year.</p> - -<p>Westward from the summit the River Tuy<a name="page_145" id="page_145"></a> plays hide-and-seek with us for -many a mile, darting, hurrying, beckoning, charming us, with a desire to -loiter when she loiters, to leap through the cliffs with her joy, to -rest under flower-spread arbours in sleepy towns with her, to dissolve -ourselves at last into the deep earth as she does. Finally we see her no -more, but now the larger Aragua, flowing toward the Lake of Valencia, -reaches out a bold hand, and we follow the new pathfinder where she -commands.</p> - -<p>One last look into the shadowy depths before we drop to the plains. It -is only a glimpse, for the passing is so swift that the eye cannot reach -its entirety of beauty; but that glimpse is like the shadow of a great -rock,—a lasting memory. A bird slowly sways in mighty, circling sweeps, -poised upon the ether, between two green-robed mountain priests—a great -bird against the hazy mountain deep, swaying, calm, eternally sure of -its strength. Was there a hand outstretched beneath in the far, -disappearing morning which brought the ecstasy into the soul of that -lonely wanderer?</p> - -<p>We leave the tunnels, the endless bridges, the heights, and drop down -rapidly into the<a name="page_146" id="page_146"></a> valley, where the heat begins and the dust flies. We -follow the Aragua until she brings us to the Lake of Valencia, a long, -rambling, shallow lake, much like some of our own Northern lakes, and, -at the first opportunity (I think it was at Maracay), we leave the -train, and stand under the wide doors of the freight depot, with the -natives lying around half-asleep on sacks of coffee, and try to catch a -whiff of refreshing coolness from the lake. More German flags; they are -very interesting, but why should a party of Americans be so honoured? -For the German officers had gone back to the ship to do the polite to -General Castro. But the halt here was for a few minutes only; and we go -on, down through the hot little city of Valencia into greater heat, and -for a time into greater and more glorious vegetation.</p> - -<p>It was a curious sight,—the piles of compressed coal dust made into -blocks,—“briquettes,‗eight to ten inches square, each stamped -“Cardiff, Wales,†piled in high, orderly heaps at each station; greater -supplies of which we found, as we left the timber for the low country. -But I must not give the impression that the low country is untimbered;<a name="page_147" id="page_147"></a> -far from it. As we leave the higher levels and start the final sharp -descent toward the coast on the cog-road,—a curious device in -railroading to overcome the danger of such steep inclines,—we can give -no conception of the forest growth through which we pass. The air is hot -and still; the trees stand in their eternal beauty, in their myriads of -blossoms, in their vivid colourings, with deep festoons of moss and -interweaving vines in motionless repose. They seem to exhale heat and -silence and darkness, even under the blaze of a still, white sun; they -tell only of night in the tangled growth of nature triumphant. It might -have been at Nagua-Nagua, if not there it was very near there, that the -springs of water, boiling out of the earth, were hot and sulphurous, -and, as we were about to move on in our roomy coach, along came the -much-talked of Special, with its crowded passengers looking jaded and -worn and cross, more, I imagine, from the incessant clatter of tongues -than from the asperity of the Southern sun. On, on, nearer to the sea, -to where the palms grow. There had been cocoanut and royal palms -before,—yes, from Haïti through all the islands we had seen them, but<a name="page_148" id="page_148"></a> -here they attain their most perfect grandeur and glory. We came upon -them not singly, in isolated groups of conservative aristocracy, but in -companies and regiments, miles of them, arranged by the masterful hand -of Nature, now in mighty groups apart, like a conference of plumed -generals, and then again in battalions of tall grenadiers on silent -dress parade. Their light lofty trunks gave back from the sun a dull, -grayish white pallor. They were still and grand, and unspeakably -beautiful.</p> - -<p>The heat seems to grow more intense as the sun sinks lower in the -heavens, and we drop down almost to the level of the ocean. The dust -becomes more blinding, and the palms disappear, and all things prickly -and unapproachably dry and forbidding, shadeless and impenetrable, take -their place, and change the picture from one of tropical life to -tropical death.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_149_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_149_sml.jpg" width="343" height="230" alt="A South American Street Puerto Cabello, Venezuela Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." -title="A South American Street Puerto Cabello, Venezuela Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">A South American Street<br /> -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela<br /> -<small>Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.</small></span> -</p> - -<p>Long wastes of white sand spread over the desolate landscape, relieved -by not one sprig of comely green or welcome shade, with great mounds and -masses of gigantic and distorted cacti, more impassable than any -man-made barricade. They fitted in well with the heat and the dust, and -the long, low sun-rays, shoot<a name="page_150" id="page_150"></a><a name="page_151" id="page_151"></a><a name="page_149" id="page_149"></a>ing in upon us their streaming floods of -white light; and then, just as I began to think the croakers might have -been right for once—there came a shout from the Doctor, from the Boston -friend, from us all; and Daddy, who was on the other side of the car, -jumps over to my seat and bends over my shoulder just in time to catch -sight of the sea—<i>el Mar Caribe</i>—before a bristling bank of cacti shut -it for the time from view. The Caribbean Sea—blue, far-reaching, -sweetly cool, washing the feet of the great, good Mother;—we longed to -plunge into the surf, and wash away the dust and heat and all unrest. -The sight of the great sea so near us, and our trim ship at anchor in -the harbour of Puerto Cabello, and the prospect of seeing the little -girls, from whom we had been separated by so many hours and miles, gives -us a deep joy. The day had been covered by the hand of God from dawn to -setting, and to the end of time there shall no greater beauty meet our -souls.</p> - -<p>Then through the sleepy streets of hot old Puerto Cabello we wander to -where a boat waits us by the rotting quay at the river’s mouth. Two -darling faces find our wistful<a name="page_152" id="page_152"></a> searchings as we near the ship, and four -sweet arms accompanied by kisses fairly weigh us down as we reach the -deck.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Mother! Just think of it, we shook hands with President Castro!<a name="page_153" id="page_153"></a>â€</p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br /><br /> -<small>CURAÇAO. CITY OF WILLEMSTAD</small></h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">S</span>MALL wonder indeed that the early explorers, the men to whom we owe the -discovery of these island gems, gave them such charmingly poetical -names. Small wonder that they named them as one would a necklace of -deep-sea pearls, strung as they are one upon another in a circlet about -the blue Caribbean Sea, the shadow of one velvety peak throwing its dark -coolness fairly to the base of sister isles, some but a few hours -distant, others perhaps a day, across seas as blue and green and limpid -as the ether above. It seems incredible that from these peaceful waters -rise the vast, cyclonic storms which frequently make such desolation on -our coasts; and that within the green and softly moulded outlines of -some of these mountainous islands there lie volcanic<a name="page_154" id="page_154"></a> craters which -still grumble and threaten; but, as there are times and seasons for all -things, so there seems to be an ordering for the giant winds to rage, -when the sun is dyed its deepest, and the earth pants for want of drink -to moisten her quivering lips. But that time of unrest is far away now, -and, as we leave Puerto Cabello and its quiet harbour, bound for -Curaçao, and drop below the horizon the cocoanut-fringed shores of the -Spanish Main, it seems as if it must ever be on unruffled seas and -toward peaceful havens that the islanders voyage back and forth.</p> - -<p>Surely it is not more than the turning once over in sleep before, with -the morning breeze fresh in our nostrils, we are right upon the dear -little Dutch city of Willemstad, the capital of the Dutch West Indies on -the island of Curaçao; and, once ashore, we long to lodge indefinitely -behind the spotless white curtains that peek out from under some snug -little peaked roof, shifting scenes only when the impulse to go farther -comes over us; and then sailing away in one of the little packet -schooners which coast along from island to island, or possibly, taking -passage in a mail steamer,<a name="page_155" id="page_155"></a> or anything bound anywhere, just so it does -not come blundering along before we are ready.</p> - -<p>There should be no words for days and hours in the tropics. Time should -be measured by enjoyments in changeful measure, slow and fast, as one’s -mood demands. Rigid hours are obtrusive where the rustle of the -cocoa-palm invites rest.</p> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<p>The little girls and I are hurrying into our hair ribbons and our white -petticoats and white waists and white hats, just as fast as our fingers -can tie or button, when Curaçao jumps into our cabin windows, or maybe -our ship has jumped into Curaçao; or is it Holland we have dropped upon, -or is it a new stage-setting for the latest <i>al fresco</i> production of -“The Flying Dutchman?â€</p> - -<p>We no sooner have our first glimpse than, for a bit, all the dressing -stops, and we crowd our three heads up to the port-holes in perfect -delight. As our slim ship slowly winds herself into the river-like -harbour, this West Indian Holland becomes more and more enchanting. The -harbours in these islands have been an<a name="page_156" id="page_156"></a> increasing wonder to us. On the -Venezuelan coast Puerto Cabello (translated literally, “The Port of the -Hair,†because there it was said a hair would hold a ship) is a perfect -example of a harbour for small vessels. Deep, natural channels—like -rivers—wind circuitously until they widen into land-locked basins where -ships of all nations, and of all rigs, and for all purposes, from the -grim war-ship to the native dugout, come unexpectedly into sight as the -channel turns and broadens into the real harbour. There the ship is left -by the native pilot.</p> - -<p>This harbour of Curaçao is no exception. We enter by a narrow, deep way -protected by rocky barriers, directly into a little inner bay, encircled -by the quaint town. The houses gliding by, within easy hailing distance -of our decks, are preëminently Dutch, of brilliant, striking colouring, -noticeably yellow, and mathematically exact as to rows and heights and -proportions—most un-West-Indian. The town is certainly just recovering -from a fresh coat of kalsomine. It is bright as a top and clean as a -whistle.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_157_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_157_sml.jpg" width="345" height="231" alt="Across Ste. Anne Bay Harbour of Willemstad, Curaçao Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." -title="Across Ste. Anne Bay Harbour of Willemstad, Curaçao Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Across Ste. Anne Bay<br /> -Harbour of Willemstad, Curaçao<br /> -<small>Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.</small></span> -</p> - -<p>We are but a stone’s throw from either dock,<a name="page_158" id="page_158"></a><a name="page_159" id="page_159"></a><a name="page_157" id="page_157"></a> and it requires a lot of -common sense, even downright logic, to persuade us that we are in the -Caribbean Sea, and not far off on the other side of the globe coming out -of the flat estuaries of the bleak North Sea into the Meuse or the Y.</p> - -<p>A bit of Holland has been lost from out Mother Earth’s pocket, and has -fallen by the way in this Western Hemisphere; and it has managed to get -along without the big Dutch mother very well. It has grown up into full -stature, following the instincts of its birth, almost wholly -uninfluenced by tropical environment. Here it stands, a perfect little -Dutchman, an exact reproduction of its staunch progenitors. Its forms -and habits have followed the traditions of its ancestors, not those of -its West Indian foster-mother. There is only one racial trait lacking in -Curaçao,—we saw no windmills; all the rest is there. But, to our great -relief, we are told that even the windmills appear on the country places -farther inland.</p> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<p>The arrival of our ship awakens the Yellow City early in the morning, -and, before our<a name="page_160" id="page_160"></a> boats are lowered, the shore is white with crowds of -Curaçaoans, big and little, pushing and jostling each other for a sight -of us. Our breakfast is done with in short order. A hurried bit of -fruit, a quick swallow of boiling coffee, a fresh roll, and up we -scramble to the deck. So it is invariably, as we near a port. Each time -we come upon an island more curious, more irresistible than any we have -seen before. We may be sighting it first as we refresh our bodies with a -bath of the clear salt water from without, warmed into the most -delicious mildness by the eternal smile of the sun. Then comes a -scramble to dress, then a bolt to the dining-room, where we eat and run. -Now, in pops a big “if.†If we were only snoozing in a Dutch -four-poster, with a frilled nightcap on, under a peaked roof in -Willemstad, then we’d never need to hurry, for all we’d have to do would -be to open our eyes and look around, and wait for the coffee to come -with a rap at the door and a lifting of the curtain. But there is small -comfort in listening to the endless schemes of that miscreant “if.†-We’ll banish him in disgrace.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_161_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_161_sml.jpg" width="344" height="111" alt="Some of Our Friends at Willemstad" -title="Some of Our Friends at Willemstad" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Some of Our Friends at Willemstad</span> -</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_163_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_163_sml.jpg" width="344" height="113" alt="Where the Basket-Women Waited Willemstad, Curaçao" -title="Where the Basket-Women Waited Willemstad, Curaçao" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Where the Basket-Women Waited<br /> -Willemstad, Curaçao</span> -</p> - -<p>Before we have time to readjust our impres<a name="page_162" id="page_162"></a><a name="page_163" id="page_163"></a><a name="page_161" id="page_161"></a>sions of one island to -the anticipated pleasures of the one following, we are among a new -people, speaking a strange tongue, living to us a new life,—to them a -weather-worn old life; among people in densely populated cities, shut -off from our world by weeks—at times by months—of silent isolation.</p> - -<p>Then all at once a fleck of smoke lifts above the horizon, a steamer is -sighted far out at sea, the pilot puts out in his little open boat, and -the whole island throbs with new emotion, for a ship is coming!</p> - -<p>From a poetical standpoint, I wish it were possible to believe that this -emotion is a disinterested pleasure in welcoming strangers; in feeling -once again the hand of man from the great world outside. Viewing the -people, as we must, largely from an impersonal standpoint, it impressed -us that the West Indian cares very little for the welcome or for the -hand of man from the great continent; but that he is up early in the -morning to devise new ways of reaching the pockets of the invaders, come -they ever so peaceably.</p> - -<p>The natives await the coming of strangers,<a name="page_164" id="page_164"></a> as a pack of hungry wolves -watch for the shorn lamb. I myself have been that shorn lamb on several -occasions.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_165_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_165_sml.jpg" width="344" height="230" alt="The Landing Willemstad, Curaçao" -title="The Landing Willemstad, Curaçao" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">The Landing<br /> -Willemstad, Curaçao</span> -</p> - -<p>Quite undaunted by the great crowd of Curaçaoans on shore, our jackies -made a cable fast to the near-lying quay, by which means our big boats -are pulled back and forth, to and from the ship. Those coming to us -bring the sellers of baskets; and it is here, although forewarned and -forearmed, that our basket mania again breaks forth in full force. First -came the famous Curaçaoan nests of baskets, of which Charles Kingsley -confesses to have been beguiled into buying; and, if so wise a man as he -fell victim to the wiles of the Curaçaoan basket-woman, how much more -readily would we weaker mortals become her prey? Then, ranged -temptingly, along the dock stood rows of Curaçaoan hampers,—great, -fine, coloured affairs, which we looked at, and looked at, and looked -at, and didn’t buy. Then, beside the basket-women, were the men with -fans and all sorts of straw weavings,—and then, oh! the work-boxes. -Truly, you have seen them! Has not your grandmother stowed<a name="page_166" id="page_166"></a><a name="page_167" id="page_167"></a><a name="page_165" id="page_165"></a> away in -the dark attic somewhere an old mahogany box, inlaid with ivory and -brass and coloured woods, with fascinating secret drawers and numerous -lids for the hiding of her precious keepsakes and age-worn trinkets? -Such a box is one of the chaste memories of my childhood,—Grandmother’s -mahogany box, with the inlaid lid and the musty odour of bygone years. -When we found these same dear old boxes away down in Curaçao, the worn, -hingeless, forsaken chest in the attic arose into a new dignity—into -the dignity of a noble family lineage. So I have found at last its -<i>habitat</i>, and these bright and gleaming creations are great-great—and -no end to great—grandchildren of my far-away, lonely relic in the -attic. But sentiment has to give way to reason, and we shake our heads -at the box-man and the hamper-woman, who, nevertheless, follow us up to -the bridge from the Otra-Banda shore over the canal, whence they watch -dejectedly while we pay bridge-toll and disappear across the canal into -the narrow Dutch streets, where the high roofs seem ready to topple over -upon us.<a name="page_168" id="page_168"></a></p> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<p>What a picture of Dutch colonial life comes to us in that short walk! -The overreaching eaves all but touch. Old lanterns swing across the -narrow way, wrought-iron sign-posts reach long arms out over our heads, -the shop doors are wide open, and the keepers of the shops could readily -shake hands across the way.</p> - -<p>I wonder if there is any excuse at all for the fact that my preconceived -ideas about Curaçao were wholly founded upon a very indistinct memory of -a certain liquid of that name, said to be distilled upon this island -from the wild sour orange? I expected to find this ambrosial nectar -stacked in rows in every shop, in bottles, long and slim, chunky, dumpy, -and round; in nice little flat bottles,—gifts for bachelor friends; in -ornamented fancy bottles for envying housewives; in thick, pudgy, -squatty bottles for gouty old uncles; in every conceivable shape and -size I expected to find it.</p> - -<p>Willemstad was not to be Willemstad—city, town, burg—it was to be an -inhabited flask of curaçao, a kind of West Indian bubble blown from the -lips of the Northeast Trades,<a name="page_169" id="page_169"></a> sweet with the breath of wild orange. The -man with the bottles was to be a more subtle tempter than the -hamper-woman, and—but it didn’t happen that way at all. It turned out -very differently.</p> - -<p>I, for one, did not see a single bottle of any shape or form in the -whole town, but the men must have found some, for just before sailing a -box was brought in, labelled “Curaçao,†and I surmised it was liqueur, -but I didn’t open the box. Truly I did not!</p> - -<p>Some of us cynically argued that the liqueur was all sent in from -somewhere else and palmed off as a native product; others clung to the -home-production fancy, and yet neither one was altogether wrong, for the -famous liqueur is made both in Holland and in this little Dutch colony -away off in the New World; at any rate this is its birthplace and home.</p> - -<p>But the gold filigree, for which the islanders are famous, was true to -our expectations. We are drawn up the shut-in street by the magnetism of -a crowd which is gathering about a shop-door, and filling the tiny place -fairly to<a name="page_170" id="page_170"></a> suffocation with eager buyers of gold rings and pins, and all -sorts of trinkets.</p> - -<p>We turn from the goldsmith and the seller of corals, and the shops, and -make for the tram,—a little, two-seated bandbox on wheels, drawn by a -two-penny mule on a tiny track through the clean white streets of -Curaçao. We are told that there is a law against the painting of the -houses white, on account of the blinding glare of the sun, and no -wonder, for, even after a few short hours of wandering, our eyes ache -with the strain and glare of so great light. The blue houses are an -exquisite rest to the eye. The whole colour scheme of Curaçao is yellow -and blue, and sometimes light green, with white used sparingly as -decoration. Green, the green of trees and grass, you ask? No. I said -nothing of the green of nature. It’s too thoroughly Dutch for that.</p> - -<p>The bandbox car hitches along, threatening to topple over any minute on -the toy donkey and stop,—at least until sundown, which would be most -sensible. Let’s cover up the donkey and get out of the glare until -night! But, no! He has his own ideas, and experience<a name="page_171" id="page_171"></a> has taught us the -futility of an attempt to change them, so we settle down to the -succession of yellow houses and blue houses, and white pillars and clean -flights of white steps, but hardly a peep of green, not a sprig of palm, -or tamarind, or orange, not a vestige of the great fundamental -nature-colour—except in a well-concealed little park—everything paved -and finished and whitewashed—only a few prim and well-pruned shrubs -carefully set in either corner of the tiny front yards, and our eyes -ache for the sight of trees and grass. Where the wild orange grows, we -failed to discover, for the town itself is almost entirely bare of trees -or flowers. Of course, it must be remembered that our very short stay -made any long excursion into the country out of the question. Let us -come again; we must find the wild oranges!</p> - -<p>Strange, is it not? No shade whatever in latitudes where the growing of -great vegetation is but the matter of a few months. As far as we could -see, there were no real trees in Willemstad; still, if palms do not grow -in Holland, whatever would be the sense in having them here? They would -spoil the likeness.<a name="page_172" id="page_172"></a></p> - -<p>So we jerk our hats down, readjust the dark glasses, tuck our -handkerchiefs under our collars, and start up a breeze with a Curaçaoan -fan, and decide to play “Jack-in-the-box†and jump out; primarily, to -make straight for our ship to escape the midday sun; secondarily, to -take one very impressionable member of our party away from the alarming -charms of a stunning Curaçaoan woman—a woman of that noble and grandly -developed type which often appears in the descendants of the -Dutch—whose comely form occupies a goodly share of the bandbox seat.</p> - -<p>The streets in this residence part of the city are still and empty. The -penny donkey and “we’uns†are the only live things visible. We are -seized with a desire to pound on those eternally closed doorways to see -if people really do live there. This seeing things on the outside is no -fun. Let’s make a sensation of some kind! Upset the bandbox, roll the -plump lady in a heap inside; put on the cover; stand the penny donkey on -top; capture some Curaçaoan hampers, jump inside, pull down the lid and -play forty thieves.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_173_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_173_sml.jpg" width="383" height="145" alt="A Jolly Dutch Port Willemstad, Curaçao" -title="A Jolly Dutch Port Willemstad, Curaçao" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">A Jolly Dutch Port<br /> -Willemstad, Curaçao</span> -</p> - -<p>But, no,—we are sworn foes to scenes, and<a name="page_174" id="page_174"></a><a name="page_175" id="page_175"></a><a name="page_173" id="page_173"></a> our vain wish to pinch -somebody dies unsatisfied; and finally, when the penny donkey comes to -the end of the route down by the quay, we take the longest way around, -through the narrow thoroughfares, following the curve of the shore, over -bridges which span the canals leading from the main channel of the -harbour, down past the basket-woman with her tempting wares on the -Otra-Banda quay to our floating home, where the governor and all the -prominent citizens of Willemstad have assembled in great numbers.</p> - -<p>Well, we’ve found out one thing. The houses were empty sure enough. The -people are all on our ship. What a good thing it was we left the bandbox -right side up! There would have been no one to rescue the plump lady.</p> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<p>Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. U——, come toward us with a group of -strangers—Curaçaoan—whose acquaintance happened just as the best -things of life come to us—by the merest chance. They were driving about -the city in company with the American consul, when, in passing one of -the most attractive<a name="page_176" id="page_176"></a> residences, their attention was drawn toward two -young women who were standing out on the veranda, waving a great -flag—our Stars and Stripes—in utter disregard of heat and sun; waving -it forth in the yellow and white glare with all the love of country and -home which motion could express. Their enthusiasm at once called forth a -response on the part of the visitors; the carriage stopped and forthwith -all the occupants of the house, following the two girls with the flag, -came to welcome the strangers. The newcomers were bidden to enter and -there was no limit to their hospitable entertainment.</p> - -<p>The flag-bearers were two homesick Southern girls, married to the sons -of a leading Dutch family. They had not visited their native land since -their marriage, and, oh! how they longed to see the dear old South -again! When their countrymen set foot at Curaçao, all of the slumbering -mother-country love broke forth again, and the old flag came out, and -they feasted the strangers, and did their utmost to honour the precious -sentiment of loyalty to home. And, after the ices and cooling drinks and -fruits and confections, they and their<a name="page_177" id="page_177"></a> friends were invited aboard -ship, where it was our pleasure to make their acquaintance.</p> - -<p>We find here, as we have in all the other islands, that the leading -families—the men in power—are comparatively pure representatives of -the original colonising stock; that is, pure Dutch, Dane, Castilian, -French, as the case may be; but that the people are a strange mixture of -all nationalities, speaking languages for the most part unwritten, -handed down from generation to generation by word of mouth, strangely -intangible, and yet as fixed and well recognised among the people as is -the old Common Law in the courts of Anglo-Saxon countries. Our friends -in Curaçao tell us that the well-born natives speak Dutch, English, -Spanish, and often French, with equal facility; added to this is another -language which must be learned in order to deal with the common people.</p> - -<p>This curious language—“<i>Papaimiento</i>,†it is called—has been reduced -to a certain degree of form in order to facilitate its being taught in -the schools. Children learn this language from their nurses, just as our -Southern children acquire the negro dialect<a name="page_178" id="page_178"></a> from the old “mammies.†The -comparison cannot be carried out to its full extent for the reason that, -while our negro dialect bears a close and intelligible likeness to -English, <i>Papaimiento</i> is so unlike Dutch as to render its acquisition -almost as difficult for a Dutchman as that of any other foreign -language, but fortunately the Dutch are good linguists. It bears, of -course, some likeness to Dutch in the fundamentals, but aside from that, -it is a strange combination of speech—perhaps more Spanish than -anything else—put together, it would seem, to meet the needs of as many -people as possible. The meaning of the name <i>Papaimiento</i> is, in the -dialect, “The talk we talk,†<i>i. e.</i>, “our language.â€</p> - -<p>Curaçao lies some fifty miles off the coast of South America, and her -favourable position between Venezuela and the Windward Islands has made -her free port a most desirable one for the smugglers who wish to supply -cheap goods to the South American ports. Thousands of flimsy tin-covered -trunks ready for Venezuelan voyagers bear evidence of her popularity as -a free and unquestioning port. Here, also, many steamers touch. But, -above<a name="page_179" id="page_179"></a> all, Curaçao is the haunt and refuge of the disappointed or -temporarily exiled Spanish American politician or revolutionist.</p> - -<p>Here, like puppets in a show, appear from time to time many noble -patriots ready to fight for their undying principles and incidentally to -absorb any loose property in the track of their conquering “armies;†and -here hies the deposed “President,†or the lately conquered general, with -his chests of treasure, waiting for a ship to his beloved Paris. Watch -our own American newspapers for the warlike notes that Willemstad, -Curaçao, ever feeling the pulse of northern South America, sends out to -the world. Did she not give us the earliest news of Cervera’s mysterious -fleet? Does she not thrill us with the momentous gymnastics of President -Castro, and the blood-curdling intentions of General Matos, General -Uribe-Uribe, General Santiago O’Flanigan <i>et hoc genus omne</i>?</p> - -<p>The date of our visit to Curaçao is about the time of the little Queen -of Holland’s wedding, so that Wilhelmina and her prospects, and all the -gossip attending so charming a personage, becomes with us, as we sit -chatting<a name="page_180" id="page_180"></a> together on the deck, a lively topic of interest. Mrs. C—— -tells us of a gold box which is to be sent the young queen as a bridal -gift from her subjects in Curaçao; a box fashioned after the most -perfect art of the native goldsmith, in filigree so rare that none but a -queen were fit to open it. This box, perchance the size of Pandora’s -once enchanted casket, is to be filled with the needlework of Curaçaoan -women—work as far-famed as the lace of Maracaibo, the lace we expected -to see everywhere in Caracas, while we were then so near the Maracaibo -country, but which one can never find unless the open-sesame of the -Spanish home is discovered, as impossible a task as the quest of the -immortal Ponce de Leon. We did not see the Maracaibo lace, nor the -Curaçaoan lace, and we are told that such a disappointment is not -unusual; it is only for the elect—the Curaçaoan people themselves—that -these wonderful specimens of the skill of patient women are visible.</p> - -<p>I shall never forget hearing that unwritten page in the tragic history -of Spain’s noble son, Admiral Cervera, as the Doctor in his quiet, low -voice told how the great admiral touched<a name="page_181" id="page_181"></a> first at Curaçao after his -long and perilous voyage from Spain. It was the Doctor’s son who sent -the cable message to the United States, telling that the Spanish fleet -was in the offing. But it was the Doctor himself who went with the -surgeons who had been sent ashore by Cervera on their humiliating -errand, to all the pharmacies in Curaçao for surgical supplies. The -fleet had been hurried from Spain unprepared, and in fact almost -unseaworthy, with not so much as a single bandage aboard or the most -ordinary necessities for the immediate succour of the wounded. They had -absolutely nothing in the way of such medical and surgical equipment at -hand, although they knew their imminent and terrible need for just such -things. Doctor C——, with the true physician’s love for his fellow men, -went from pharmacy to pharmacy with the surgeon, and bought up all the -bandages and gauze and iodoform and other supplies which were to be -found. Meantime detachments from the ships’ crews began to land—hungry -and worn, sad with the shadow of the great coming tragedy—and they fell -upon the island like a lot of starved wolves. They<a name="page_182" id="page_182"></a> actually had not -food enough aboard to keep body and soul together, for the corrupt and -procrastinating government at Madrid had not even properly victualled -this fleet of war-ships before sending them to their certain -destruction. The market was cleaned of everything it could afford, and -even then it was a mere drop in the bucket to that unhappy host. Later -Doctor C—— went out to the flag-ship with the surgeon, and spoke with -Cervera, who prophetically told him that he knew he was going to his -doom—but it had to be! And the twisted skeletons of those noble ships -which we later saw strewn from Santiago on along the southern Cuban -coast was but the fulfilment of the miserable fate he then so clearly -foresaw, but which, after his unavailing pleas to the Spanish government -before sailing, the staunch old admiral, with a Spaniard’s pride and -bravery, would not avoid. For so it was written! Is there not a strain -of the Moor’s fatalism still traceable in the true Spaniard?</p> - -<p>Thus as we chat with our new-found friends on topics grave and gay -through the noon hour and on into mid-afternoon, the people of the city -continue to crowd one another, row upon<a name="page_183" id="page_183"></a> row, on the dock. A native band -plays our national airs and Dutch national airs, and our decks are -filled with visitors—the governor of the island and his suite and -ladies, and fine little solemn-eyed and suspiciously dark-skinned Dutch -children; and, in the midst of all the visiting and moving back and -forth, some one asks Doctor W—— how the islanders feel about -absorption by the United States—apparently a possibility now present in -the mind of every West Indian; and the not surprising answer is made, -that, for his part, he—a Dutchman, Holland-born—would favour -annexation; and from the wild enthusiasm of the people ashore, as the -bugle sounds the first warning of departure, one might readily believe -that so favourable, so friendly, is the feeling for the United States, -that the slightest advances toward peaceable annexation would be met -with universal favour. And so the merchants also talked.</p> - -<p>The houses begin to move,—no, it’s our boat herself, slowly, very -slowly. We drop our shore-lines, and shout after shout rings after us. -The populace moves in a mass along the quay, and the native band beats -away its very<a name="page_184" id="page_184"></a> loudest, and the bigger marine band aboard beats even -louder, and it’s a jumble of national airs in different keys, and -hurrahs, and the people following along the quay. We wave our -handkerchiefs until our arms are tired. One black-faced, bandannaed, -Dutch conglomerate in her enthusiasm whips off her bright skirt, and in -a white petticoat and red chemise she waves the fluttering skirt in the -breeze.</p> - -<p>If the United States ever seriously contemplates the annexation of any -of the West Indian islands, the surest way, and the quickest way, to -bring it about would be to send ship-loads of pleasure-seeking -Americans, for bimonthly visits, leave their mania for buying things -unrestrained, and, before diplomacy has had time to put on its dress -suit, the islanders would beg for annexation.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_185_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_185_sml.jpg" width="343" height="230" alt="A Snug Harbour Willemstad, Curaçao" -title="A Snug Harbour Willemstad, Curaçao" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">A Snug Harbour<br /> -Willemstad, Curaçao</span> -</p> - -<p>Do not deceive yourself into the belief that you will find El Dorado in -these islands, where the products of the country, food, and lodging, can -be bought for a song; where one can get full value for money expended. -On the contrary, values have become so distorted by the extravagance of -some American tourists that to be recognised as an American is a -signal<a name="page_186" id="page_186"></a><a name="page_187" id="page_187"></a><a name="page_185" id="page_185"></a> for the most extortionate demands from the hotel-keeper to the -market-woman. The system of extravagant feeing and still more our -readiness to pay what is asked us instead of bargaining and haggling -over prices as the natives do, and as is confidently expected of any -sane human being, has so demoralised service and the native scale of -prices that it is fairly impossible to obtain the ordinary necessities -for which one expects to pay in the hotel bill, without giving -needlessly large fees to the servants who happen to be in your -attendance; or to find anything offered at a reasonable price in the -markets.</p> - -<p>At the sight of an American—and we are readily distinguished—the -prices advance, and the unoffending tourist is obliged to suffer for the -extravagance of those who have gone before him. This infection has -spread through all the islands, and there has not been a port on our -entire cruise wholly free from its effect. Perhaps, however, Willemstad -was the pleasantest of all in this respect, for it is a free port, used -to low prices and the ways of outsiders.</p> - -<p>It might be possible to go through the<a name="page_188" id="page_188"></a> islands at a reasonable expense, -provided one spoke the language necessary at the various ports with -ease, and had the time and patience to bargain and shop indefinitely; -provided, <i>also</i>, one could beat against the tide which sweeps the -American toward the “Gran Hotel.†Let him but once depart from his -ancestral traditions of simple habits, let him but enter the portico of -the “Gran Hotel,†and he at once becomes the prey of every known species -of human vulture. It is the old story of Continental Europe over again.<a name="page_189" id="page_189"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br /><br /> -<small>THE SOUTHERN CROSS</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">“W</span>AKE up! Wake up! If you want to see the Southern Cross, wake up and -come on deck!†And we remember how long we had been waiting for those -wonderful stars, and how Daddy, who many nights slept on deck, had told -us that he often saw them, and how we had, night after night, vowed we -would make the effort to awaken at two in the morning, and how, each -night, we had slept along, too tired with the wonder days to move an -inch until bugle-call.</p> - -<p>But here comes this far-off voice again calling us from the Northland of -dreams, and it seems to be saying, “This is your last chance. By -to-morrow (whenever that uncertainty comes!) the stars will have rolled -away, or you will have sailed along, and there will be no Southern -Cross, and you may as well not<a name="page_190" id="page_190"></a> have come away down here to the Spanish -Main at all if you miss seeing it,‗and then we wake a bit more, and -the figure in the doorway stands there with “come†on his face, and -“wake up!†on his lips, and we try to think how sorry we shall be if we -do not see the Southern Cross. And then the door closes with a rather -contemptuous click, and we land in the middle of the floor, aroused by -the disappearance of the figure in pajamas and by our somewhat -reawakened sense of duty.</p> - -<p>Throwing on light wrappers, the little girls stumble along after me to -where our man stands leaning against the rail, his face turned skyward.</p> - -<p>“There it is—see? Right in the south, directly opposite the Great Bear -that sunk below the northern horizon two hours ago. One star down quite -low, near the horizon, and one almost in a straight line above, and one -at either side equal distances apart, like an old four-cornered kite. -You must imagine the cross. But it’s hardly what it’s cracked up to be!†-And we blink at the stars, and they blink at us, and we feel strangely -unreal and turned about.<a name="page_191" id="page_191"></a></p> - -<p>What in all the world has the Southern Cross to do with the nineteenth -century? It belongs to Blackbeard, and the great procession of pirates -and roving buccaneers who swept these seas in tall-sparred, black-hulled -craft, some hundreds of years ago. One or the other of us is out of -place. The only consistent part of the night is, that, while our eyes -are searching for the four luminous dots in the Southern Cross, our ship -is plunging on toward Jamaica, that one-time Mecca of the bandit rover -of the sea. There he found safe harbour and friends in the same -profession; there it was that the hoards of Spanish gold and plate and -all conceivable sorts of plunder, taken from the hapless merchantmen, -were bought and sold and gambled away. But, without the accompaniment of -roystering pirates and swaggering buccaneers, the Southern Cross seems -out of joint. Jamaica may do as she is, but, as we look out across the -scurrying waters, there’s a malicious twinkle to the top star in the -Southern Cross and that makes us all the more determined to give it an -opportunity to renew old acquaintance. We’ll have a pirate—we must have -a pirate, if not<a name="page_192" id="page_192"></a> a real one, bloody and black and altogether -fascinating, we must conjure one by magic! Pirates there must be! So, to -pacify our insatiable desire to resuscitate the ghostly heroes of the -long-dead past, the Spanish Student offers a yarn.</p> - -<p>Four bells of the second night watch rings out, and “All’s well!†floats -above our heads, and the witching hour of two in the morning brings the -proper flavour to the story. We cuddle down on some stray ship chairs, -and the story begins:</p> - -<p>“Once upon a time—â€</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear! Is it to be a ‘once upon a time’ story, Dad? Then it won’t be -real,†breaks in the Wee One.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is real, Chick; at least, so far as I know. But you must not -interrupt me again. If you do, I might forget, and then the Cross up -there would put out its lights and go to bed.â€</p> - -<p>“No, Dad, I’ll be good.â€</p> - -<p>“Well, once upon a time, there was a doughty old French Corsair, who was -one of the most daring pirates on the Spanish Main. Morals were in a -topsyturvy state in those<a name="page_193" id="page_193"></a> days, and in none were they more -wrong-side-to than in this famous old Frenchman. He had a long, low, -topsail schooner, painted black, with sharp clipper stem, clean flush -decks and tall and raking masts, and—â€</p> - -<p>“I know all about him, Dad. He had a black beard, and he used to braid -it in lots of pigtails, and tie it with ribbons,†says Wee One, again.</p> - -<p>“Now, Toddlekins, what did I say? I shall certainly bundle you off to -bed. No, it wasn’t Blackbeard, but it was a pirate just as fierce and -fully as bad mannered. This old fellow had been rampaging around here, -there, and everywhere, all about this Caribbean Sea and along the -Spanish Main, in search of ships and gold and prisoners, and -occasionally even food, and in fact anything of value he might come -across; when not very far from where we are now—yes, just about this -latitude, it was, but a few leagues more to the west—by the light of -the stars—yes, by the light of this very Southern Cross, he makes out -the land, and soon after spies a tidy, prosperous little village handy -to the shore of a palm-fringed inlet. Like the provident<a name="page_194" id="page_194"></a> pirate that he -was, he at once decides that he is both hungry and thirsty and that his -lusty followers are short of rations. Here is a likely port from which -to supply.</p> - -<p>“So off goes a long-boat filled with his precious cutthroats, carrying a -pressing invitation to the village priest and some of his friends to -come aboard. The fat priest is routed out and escorted to the waiting -boat; he understands his mission, he has seen such men before. So, -taking along a few chosen friends, he makes the best of a bad business -and is rowed off to the ship in short order. The citizens, meanwhile, -are requisitioned for all sorts of food and drink, and the priest and -his friends have a jolly time of it as hostages. But as his wit grows -with the wine it occurs to our Corsair that, with a priest aboard, Holy -Church should have due reverence, and roars out his imperative -suggestion that mass would be in order. An altar is rigged up on the -quarter-deck, holy vestments and vessels are quickly brought from the -village church, and the ship’s crew are summoned to assemble and warned -to take hearty part in the service. In place of music, broadsides are -ordered fired<a name="page_195" id="page_195"></a> from the pirate’s cannon after the <i>Credo</i>, after the -<i>Elevation</i>, and after the <i>Benediction</i>. At the <i>Elevation of the -Host</i>, the captain finds occasion to reprove a sailor for lack of -reverence. But at a second offence from the same trifler, out comes his -cutlass—a swift, shining circle follows the Corsair’s blade, and off -flies the still grinning head and the blood spirts high from the jumping -trunk. The poor priest is startled, but the captain reassures him with -kind words, for, says he, it is only his duty and always his pleasure to -protect the sanctity of holy things; he would do the same thing -again—and a thousand times!—to any one who was disrespectful to the -Holy Sacrament. For why is there a great God above and his Holy Church -on earth except to be honoured? Then the service continues as if nothing -had happened and again comes the whine of the Latin chants and the -thunder of the reverent guns.</p> - -<p>“After mass, the body is heaved overboard and no burial rites are said, -for who shall try to save a heretic’s soul? The priest is put ashore -with many a smile and oath and many a pious crossing, and our Corsair -and his pack<a name="page_196" id="page_196"></a> of thieves go their way, having paid their respects to -Holy Church.â€</p> - -<p>“Oh, Dad!†says Toddlekins, “that was lovely; is it true? Tell us -another! Just one more! Don’t you remember about Captain Kidd?</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="c"> -“‘My name was Captain Kidd, as I sailed, as I sailed,<br /> - My name was Robert Kidd, as I sailed.<br /> - My name was Robert Kidd,<br /> - God’s laws I did forbid,<br /> - And wickedly I did, as I sailed.’</p> -</div> - -<p>“Don’t you remember the other verses? You used to sing them to us on the -yacht before we ever thought of seeing the real Southern Cross.â€</p> - -<p>And just as the indulgent parent begins to waver, and the little girls -are sure they have won another story, down—down—down—drops a big -star, the foot of the Cross, millions of miles away, and the three -lonely wanderers still hanging low in the heavens reach out their great -shadowy arms in ghostly warning to those unthinking children of Adam who -defy time and sleep and all things reasonable, just for the sake of a -few old memories of a very questionable past.<a name="page_197" id="page_197"></a></p> - -<p>Then those three deserted stars quiver and shiver and hide behind the -wandering company of torch-bearers, and silently disappear, and a tired -moon gives a vague uncertainty to sea and air.</p> - -<p>In spite of the early morning mystery, all our efforts to reinstate the -French Corsair, the black-hulled phantom, and the headless sailor, fail.</p> - -<p>The decks of the ship are damp and empty and long. The ungainly deck -chairs are locked together in gruesome lines like monstrous grasshoppers -dying in winrows, and the great engines below beat and throb, and the -water rolls past us in giant breathings, full of the sighs of dead men -lying fathoms deep beneath our keel, and the stars sink lower and lower, -and we are hurrying on toward the morning. Our eyes are still longing -for sleep, and the little girls flutter down below, and we two after -them. In the morning, after some strange dreams, we lie at anchor off -the Blue Mountains of Jamaica.<a name="page_198" id="page_198"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br /><br /> -<small>KINGSTON, JAMAICA</small></h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">H</span>AD he not come aboard, it is doubtful if even the “kirk-ganging habit†-inherited from a long line of devout ancestors could have dragged us to -the service. But there was an unforgettable something in his face which -compelled us, in spite of the intense heat, to leave ship by a -shore-boat on Sunday morning and inquire the way to the Parish Church.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_199_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_199_sml.jpg" width="380" height="170" alt="Kingston, Jamaica, from the Bay" -title="Kingston, Jamaica, from the Bay" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Kingston, Jamaica, from the Bay</span> -</p> - -<p>Shortly after we had dropped anchor in Kingston Harbour, early on -Saturday, we saw the rector of the English Church being rowed through -the crowd of fruit-boats, which were bobbing about us like so many -brilliant birds; but it was with considerable difficulty that he was -finally enabled to reach the ship, so strenuous were the black -fruiterers to give their wares the best possible showing. They were<a name="page_200" id="page_200"></a><a name="page_201" id="page_201"></a><a name="page_199" id="page_199"></a> -well worth the showing, too, for such masses and varieties and colours -were a marvel indeed, even in the tropics. The shaddocks were as big as -melons, and the tangerines, measuring some fifteen inches in -circumference, were dyed as deep a yellow as the colour sense could -grasp, and piled in great, heaping baskets, were watched over by -beflowered negresses, who sat motionless in the boats, except for their -great rolling eyes.</p> - -<p>The oranges of Mandeville, Jamaica, were well known to us through the -accounts of former travellers, but no description had ever brought a -suggestion of the true radiance of the Jamaican fruit as it shone forth -that brilliant morning. After one look, the little girls ran down to the -stateroom for the St. Thomas basket, to fill it to the very handle-tip -with luscious tangerines. And while they scampered off with the basket -brimful, the lid pressed back by piles of tender, yellow beauties, a -strange boat-load of new passengers blocked the way once more for the -good priest, and he leaned patiently back in his boat, as if he knew -that to protest would be of no avail.</p> - -<p>The newcomers were two enormous live sea-turtles<a name="page_202" id="page_202"></a> which the fishermen -hauled up the gangway by a stout cable. The turtles groaned and puffed -and flapped, and the little girls wanted them turned on their legs just -to see what would happen; it would be such fun to ride a-turtle-back. -And Wee One says, “Why, Mother! They are just like ‘John the Baptist,’ -our pet turtle at home, only lots and lots bigger. I wish they’d turn -over.†But the sailors had evidently handled turtles before, for they -were left on their backs and were—after having been duly wondered -at—dragged down the deck out of sight, to reappear again in stew and -<i>fricassee</i>, not in steak as the Jamaicans serve them. But Sister -laments. She and Little Blue Ribbons wanted to see the turtles run. -“Mother, if they had only been right side up we could have helped turn -them on their backs just like the ‘Foreign Children’ Stevenson tells -about,—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘You have seen the scarlet trees<br /></span> -<span class="i1">And the lions over seas;<br /></span> -<span class="i1">You have eaten ostrich eggs,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">And turned the turtles off their legs.’â€<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_203_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_203_sml.jpg" width="345" height="229" alt="Rio Cobre, near Spanish Town Jamaica Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." -title="Rio Cobre, near Spanish Town Jamaica Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Rio Cobre, near Spanish Town<br /> -Jamaica<br /> -<small>Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.</small></span> -</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, as the way clears, the priest reaches the ship, and is soon -lost among the<a name="page_204" id="page_204"></a><a name="page_205" id="page_205"></a><a name="page_203" id="page_203"></a> crowd of passengers who are waiting for the first boat -ashore.</p> - -<p>All of Saturday, we wandered about the dusty, uninteresting streets of -Kingston, waiting for the great impression. But it didn’t come. We were -ready and willing to admire the beautiful, but it did not appear. -Kingston was even more unattractive than Port of Spain, Trinidad; -dirtier, hotter, and in every way dull and uninteresting. Had it not -been for the Blue Mountains, against which Kingston leans, and the -glorious old Northeast Trades which fan her wayworn features, and for -the sea at her feet, we could not have forgiven her frowsy appearance. -The whole place had a “has been†air, with unkempt streets, and low, -square, dumpy-looking houses, facing each other like tired old tramps.</p> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<p>In order to form a just estimate of the Englishman’s work and methods in -Jamaica, one must leave Kingston, and take to the roads outside, for -example that one along the Rio Cobre which winds in and out among the -mountains in a most enchanting course. This<a name="page_206" id="page_206"></a> particular drive of eleven -miles, called the “Bog Walk Drive,†leads to a little settlement called -“Bog Walk.†It is to be hoped that there was at one time some excuse for -this name, but as bogs do not disappear in a day, it must have been in -quite a distant past that the name had any real significance. We saw no -suggestion of a Bog Walk, although actively on the alert for it. We had -uncertain anticipations of having to scramble over wet and oozing turf, -and one of us, without saying a word to any one else, tucked a pair of -rubbers into a capacious basket. But the rubbers stayed right there, for -there was no bog, nor any suggestion of one,—funny way these English -have of naming things!</p> - -<p>And speaking of names,—well, there never was a place—except other -English colonial towns—where the good old British custom of naming -houses is more rampant than in Kingston. Had the houses of some -pretension been so labelled, it might not have seemed so strange; but, -no, every little cottage had a name painted somewhere on its gate-post, -and very grandiloquent ones they were, I assure you. No two-penny -affairs for them! There<a name="page_207" id="page_207"></a> was “Ivy Lodge†and “Myrtle Villa†and -“Ferndale†and “Oakmere†and “The Hall,†tacked on to the wobblety -fence-posts of the merest shanties. And yet, in spite of their apparent -incongruity, there was a sort of pitiful fitness in those names. It was -a holding-on, in a crude way, to some half-forgotten ideal of the old -English life. It might have been a memory of the far-away mother -country, left as the only legacy to a Creole generation; it might have -been the last reaching for gentility; who can tell what “The Hall†meant -to the inmates of that shambling roof. But for the “Bog Walk†there was -no reason apparent, and we did not waste a bit of sympathy on the -supposititious man who first sank to his armpits in what may have been a -bog.</p> - -<p>The Bog Walk road is wide enough for the passing of vehicles, and as -solid as a rock. The English in the West Indies—as elsewhere—have ever -been great road-builders. Now this bit of road—eleven miles long, as -smooth as a floor, as firmly built as the ancient roads of Rome—is part -of a great system of roads which extends for hundreds of miles -throughout the island, and these roads have<a name="page_208" id="page_208"></a> been constructed with so -much care that, in spite of the torrents of tropical rain which must at -times flood them, they remain as firm and enduring as the mountains -themselves, seemingly the only man-made device in the West Indies which -has been able to withstand the ravages of the tropical elements.</p> - -<p>Jamaica is one hundred and forty-four miles long and fifty miles wide, -and its entire area is a network of these wonderful roads. Roads which -would grace a Roman Empire, here wind through vast lonely forests and -plantations of coffee and cacao, past towns whose ramshackle houses are -giving the last gasps of dissolution. Jamaica has evidently suffered -under the affliction of road-making governors, whose single purpose has -been to build roads though all else go untouched, and they have held to -that ambition with bulldog pertinacity. No one can deny the wonder of -the Jamaican highway. But whither, and to what, does it lead? Good roads -are truly civilisers, and essential to the good of a country, but there -must be a reason for their existence which is mightier than the way -itself. Had there been half as many forest roads in Jamaica as there are -now, and the<a name="page_210" id="page_210"></a><a name="page_211" id="page_211"></a><a name="page_209" id="page_209"></a> money which has been buried in practically unused paths -put into good schools and the encouragement of agriculture, Jamaica -might to-day show a very different face. The most casual observation -tells us of vast, unreasoning waste of money on the beautiful island, -and one cannot but pity the patient blacks who have suffered so much -from the poor administration of their white brothers.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_209_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_209_sml.jpg" width="343" height="230" alt="A Native Hut Jamaica Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." -title="A Native Hut Jamaica Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">A Native Hut<br /> -Jamaica<br /> -<small>Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.</small></span> -</p> - -<p>It was our pleasure to drive some distance on these hard turnpikes, and -in miles we met but one conveyance of any kind, and that was a rickety -old box on wheels, carrying a family of coolies to Spanish Town.</p> - -<p>This place out-Spanished any Spanish town we had ever seen in filth and -general dilapidation. It was simply a lot of rambling old shacks, -huddled together under the long-suffering palms—dirty, forlorn, -forsaken, never good for much when young, and beyond redemption in its -puerile old age. Down through these haunts of the half-naked blacks, -there sweeps a road fit for a chariot and four. Diamond necklaces are -queenly prerogatives, and the proper setting for a royal feast; but, -thrown about the neck of a starving child, they are, to<a name="page_212" id="page_212"></a> say the least, -out of place. Nothing can be more entrancing, when perfect of its kind, -than either diamonds or children, but they do not belong together. It -may be, that, when the child is grown, circumstances will make the -wearing of such a necklace a graceful adornment, but, until that time -does come, the child’s belongings should be those of simple necessity, -all else being sacrificed to the normal growth of body and mind; let -this be once well under way and adornments may follow. Jamaica has given -her children a diamond necklace, and, although magnificent and -wonderful, it is out of place, and the worst of it is, the children have -had to pay dearly for it.</p> - -<p>What Jamaica would have been under wise and prudent management, and with -a different racial problem, no one can say. She has certainly never been -lacking in resources, nor has she lacked amenable—though not always -desirable—subjects. But there is a hitch somewhere, and to find that -hitch would take a long unravelling of a torn and broken skein, the kind -of work few care to undertake; but it is the work which must be done if -Jamaica is ever to have a future.<a name="page_213" id="page_213"></a></p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_213_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_213_sml.jpg" width="344" height="227" alt="The Bog Walk Road, near Spanish Town Jamaica" -title="The Bog Walk Road, near Spanish Town Jamaica" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">The Bog Walk Road, near Spanish Town<br /> -Jamaica</span> -</p> - -<p><a name="page_214" id="page_214"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_215" id="page_215"></a></p> - -<p>Dusty and hot and still wondering where the “Bog Walk†would appear, we -left the carriages for an inn which stood close to the road. It was -somewhat—no, I should say much—above the average Jamaican house, -passably clean, just passably, and in a way rather inviting to the -traveller who is glad enough to go anywhere, where he can be satisfied, -if he is hungry and tired. But the house was not what I wanted to tell -you about; it was the <i>grande dame</i> within, who played the indifferent -hostess. We did not see her as we ran up-stairs to the upper balcony; it -was well after we had sipped our rum and lemonade—for we did sip it; we -not only sipped it, but we drank it, and it was fine, and we felt so -comfortable that, when she—<i>la grande dame</i>—appeared, it never -occurred to us to express our disappointment over the Bog Walk; we just -agreed with her in everything she said, and felt beatific. I think we -would have agreed with her even without the rum and lemonade, for she -had an air about her that made one feel acquiescent. She was tall and -angular. Her features were as clean-cut as though chiselled in marble; -she was clearly Caucasian in type.<a name="page_216" id="page_216"></a> Her lips were thin, her nose was -aquiline, and her mouth had a haughty, indifferent curve, suggesting a -race of masters, not slaves. But her skin was like a smoke-browned pipe, -and her hair was glossy, and waved in quick little curves in spite of -the tightly drawn coil at the back of her stately neck. She was dressed -in the fashion of long ago, with a full flounced skirt and a silk shawl. -She sent her menials to wait upon us, although I noticed that, in spite -of herself, she was taking an interest in the strangers.</p> - -<p>The Madame went before, and we followed, through the ever-open door of -the West Indian home. The Madame’s skirts swept over the uneven -threshold, over the bare, creaky floors, and her noiseless feet led the -way into a past, rich in romance and disaster. The Madame had little to -say; she just glided on before us like a black memory. Here on the bare, -untidy floors were the Madame’s treasures; treasures she used daily, for -the table was spread (the Madame served dinner there just the hour -before). Here was a table of Dominican mahogany with carved legs and -oval top, and there on the sideboard was rare<a name="page_217" id="page_217"></a> old plate, and quaintest -pieces of Dresden china and Italian glass glistened as it once had done -near the lips of its lordly master. The side-table of mahogany gave out -a dull, rich lustre of venerable age, and there was a -punch-bowl—silver, and much used—and curious candlesticks with glass -shades. Ah! The Madame was rich. What a place, I thought, for a lover of -the antique!</p> - -<p>In her bedroom hard-by, a massive four-poster reached to the ceiling, -and off in a dark corner there was an old chest, richly ornamented with -brass. In every room there were chairs and davenports in quaintest -fashion, all dull and worn and beautiful, while the billiard-room -outside was well filled by a massive old-fashioned rosewood -billiard-table whose woodwork, undermined by the extensive ravages of -ants, was fast falling in pieces. “Where has it come from?†we ask; and -she replies, with a lofty air, that her grandfather brought all these -over from England long, long ago. No doubt the Madame would have sold -any and all of it, and we caught ourselves wondering how we could get -one of those old pieces home. It really seemed as if we ought<a name="page_218" id="page_218"></a> to buy -something, for the black Madame, towering above us, certainly expected -to make a sale. But we didn’t buy; we just admired it all, and -particularly the Madame, and then we began again to try and think out -the dreary tangle.</p> - -<p>There was just one thing the Madame had which she would not sell, and -that was the one thing we wanted most: the story of that grandfather. -She was the <i>grande dame</i>; his history was sealed behind those -unfathomable eyes. She admitted only the patrician in her blood, not the -savage. The grandfather had left his stamp upon that face, but there was -that other stamp! Alas, the Englishman has sold his birthright in -Jamaica; he is selling it to-day, and what more hopeless future could -rest over a people than does this day over the island of Jamaica?</p> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<p>And now we are back in Kingston, the city. “How would it be for us to -leave Daddy here—he wants to be measured at the military tailor’s for -some khaki suits—and run off down the street on the shady side, to what -seems to be<a name="page_219" id="page_219"></a> a ‘Woman’s Exchange?’†The little girls, always ready for a -new expedition, take the lead, and for once we found a sign which was -not misleading. It proved to be a veritable Woman’s Exchange, filled -with no end of curious specimens of native workmanship which had been -brought there for sale. Among the natural curios—to us the most -wonderful—was a branch of what is known as the lacebark-tree. The -botanist will have to tell you its real unpronounceable name. For us -“lacebark†answers very well, because we don’t know the other, and have -no way of finding it out just now. Who ever thought of carrying an -encyclopedia in a steamer-trunk? I am sadly conscious that we even -forgot the pocket-dictionary. Please forgive us this time! But it was -the tree that interested us, not its name. Its fibrous inner bark (much -like the bark of our Northern moosewood) is made of endless layers of -lacelike network, which can be opened and stretched a great width, even -in the bark of a bit of wood an inch and a half in diameter. These -layers of lace are separated and opened into flowerlike cups, with rim -upon rim of lacy edge, all coming<a name="page_220" id="page_220"></a> from the one solid stick of wood, or -carefully unrolled into filmy sheets of net-like tissue. The native -whips are made by taking long branches of this tree, scraping off the -brittle outer bark, opening the inner fibrous bark, and braiding the -ends into a tapering lash as long as one wishes. Hats are trimmed with -scarfs of this dainty woodland lace, and even dresses are said to be -made from this cloth of the forest, which rivals in loveliness the -fairest weaving of Penelope.</p> - -<p>The gracious woman in charge told us that, while the Exchange was -self-supporting, it owed its existence to the liberality of an American -girl, who had many years ago married an English nobleman. And it made me -glad to think that our glorious American women had, with all their -foolish love for titles, a generous hand for woman the world over, and -that, wherever they wandered, their ways could be followed by the light -of their liberality. In a way, the Exchange—founded by an American -woman—made us forgive much in Kingston; so, when we took the street up -to the Myrtle Bank Hotel, expecting from its name to find a sweet, -delicious caravansary,<a name="page_221" id="page_221"></a> embowered in myrtle green and magnolia, and -found the “Myrtle Bank†an arid sand beach, with a large, -self-sufficient modern hotel built therein, we still forgave, because we -said we would for the sake of that dear American girl who couldn’t quite -forget.</p> - -<p>And then, too, the Doctor met us straight in the doorway; not the newly -made Philadelphia doctor. No, not that one; it was the other one, the -Northeast Trade, the million-year-old West Indian Doctor. Do you suppose -he is as old as that? Yes, even older. But, for all that, he’s as -faithful to his trust as though but yesterday he had slipped from out -the wrangling of chaos. So we kiss the Doctor, and run up after him into -the big, spacious parlour of the Myrtle Bank Hotel, drop down into a -delightful rocker, and think it all over.</p> - -<p>Here we are in Kingston, owned by the English, governed by the English, -bullyragged by the English,—but where is he, the Englishman, where the -Englishwoman? To be sure, we found some white faces in the shops, and we -remembered seeing a few fair-haired, sallow little girls. And we saw on -the street, just as we left the Exchange, an Englishman<a name="page_222" id="page_222"></a> with a golf-bag -on his shoulder; but these were the landmarks only—the exception. The -people we saw were of all shades of a negro admixture, and some very -black ones at that.</p> - -<p>But the Myrtle Bank Hotel was not the place for such reflections. At -least, so the good Doctor seemed to think, for he had no sooner brought -us under the magic of his presence, than we were carried into the most -affable state of contentment with all things visible, and it was not -until the next morning that the question fully dawned upon us in its -true significance.</p> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_223_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_223_sml.jpg" width="344" height="230" alt="Where We Landed Kingston, Jamaica Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." -title="Where We Landed Kingston, Jamaica Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Where We Landed<br /> -Kingston, Jamaica<br /> -<small>Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.</small></span> -</p> - -<p>I suppose we might have walked from the boat-landing to the Parish -Church embowered in its palms a few blocks away, but even that short -distance was exaggerated by the early hot glare of the sun. The -Northeast Trade was taking his morning nap, and the air was utterly -motionless. So Daddy hails a cab, and we rumble off in the direction of -some ringing bells. The town, as we drove along, had the dead look of an -English Sunday morning; there were few people visible, and those we<a name="page_224" id="page_224"></a><a name="page_225" id="page_225"></a><a name="page_223" id="page_223"></a> -saw were evidently following the bells, as we were. Back of our desire -to go where the face of the priest was leading us, there was a hope -that, in attending an English church, presided over by a white, English -priest, we should there see the representative people of Kingston, the -white owners of the island. This church was one of the few beautiful -sights in Kingston. Truly, some good priest of the olden time must have -planned with lingering touch the graceful garden which so lovingly -enshrined the venerable spot. An avenue of palms, singing their silvery -song all the long day, skirted on either side the wide stone walk to the -entrance, and bent their long, waving arms very close to our heads as we -stepped within the doorway. The church, as an ancient tablet indicated, -was built in the latter part of the seventeenth century. It followed the -sweet lines of the English cathedral, built from time to time, as one -could readily observe from the varying indications of age in the -structure itself.</p> - -<p>We were early for the service, for the second bell had not rung. The -priest met us at the door. He was a man of ripe years, with close-cut<a name="page_226" id="page_226"></a> -whitening hair, and a face that one would always remember. It was framed -in strength and moulded by the love of God. There was in it that -indefinable beauty which comes from a sacrificial life, from a life -breathed upon by the spirit of holiness and quiet. There were no lines -of unrest there; the poise of divine equilibrium was his living -benediction, and we followed him down the stone aisle, over the memorial -slabs of the departed great buried beneath, to a seat just the other -side of a massive white pillar, midway between open windows on one side -and an open door on the other, where the grateful breeze, now faintly -rustling the palms without, swept in upon us in delicious waves.</p> - -<p>We were placed quite well in front of the transept, and as we waited -there in the quiet old building, I began to make a mental estimate of -just where the different classes of Jamaican society would find -themselves. Here, where we were, would be the whites, and back beyond -the transept, the negroes, and in the choir, of course, the fair-haired -English boys. Then the old bell began to ring again, and a few of our -fellow voyagers came in and took<a name="page_227" id="page_227"></a> seats in front of us,—notably Mr. and -Mrs. F——, who had been the guests of the priest the day before. The -church was filling. The owners of the seat in which the priest had -placed us arrived, and we were requested by a silent language, which -speaks more forcibly than words, to move along and make room. In the -meantime, the pew was also filled from the other side, and in the same -dumb language we were requested to move back the other way. Thus we were -wedged in closely between the two respective owners of the seat. And -they were not white owners,—they were black, brown, yellow—but not -white. The church filled rapidly. It filled to the uttermost. Mr. and -Mrs. F——, in front of us, were obliged to separate, for, when the -owners of their seat arrived, they simply stood there until Mr. F—— -was forced to leave his wife and crowd in somewhere else. The pew-owners -were the rightful possessors, and the white man or the stranger -apparently of little consequence. There was every conceivable shade of -the African mixture. The choir was made up partially of black negresses, -partially of yellow girls, with men of all hues besides, and the<a name="page_228" id="page_228"></a> whole -congregation in this Church of England was similarly mixed, with the -black blood strongly predominant. I saw, outside of our party, only one -Englishwoman and one Englishman, and a few about whom I was doubtful, -and those were all. The blacks were very far from being the true type of -African. In some cases, there would be the negro face in all its -characteristics, with one exception, and that would be the oblique eyes -of the Chinese. There were Japanese negroes, and Chinese negroes, and -English and French negroes. It was a horrible mixture of negro with -every other people found in the island, with the negro in the ascendant.</p> - -<p>I saw no marks of deference paid to the white strangers; they were -placed in the same position in which a negro would find himself in a -Mississippi gathering of white people. If you have ever witnessed the -enthusiasm with which the negro is welcomed in such places, you can -understand our position that day in Jamaica. We had been told of the -contempt in which the white man is held in Haïti, and, not having -experienced it, were disinclined to believe such an abnormal state of -things. But,<a name="page_230" id="page_230"></a><a name="page_231" id="page_231"></a><a name="page_229" id="page_229"></a> here in Jamaica, without ever having been informed of -the state of society, we felt it as plainly as if it had been emblazoned -on the sign-boards. We were not welcome and we felt it. We were out of -our element.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_229_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_229_sml.jpg" width="346" height="231" alt="El Morro, Entrance to Harbour Santiago de Cuba Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." -title="El Morro, Entrance to Harbour Santiago de Cuba Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">El Morro, Entrance to Harbour<br /> -Santiago de Cuba<br /> -<small>Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.</small></span> -</p> - -<p>The people were all well clothed,—many in elegance. The most of them in -white and black; court mourning for the queen.</p> - -<p>And then the grand old service began,—that wonderful world-encircling -service of our old English Mother Church—always the same and always -sufficient—and it was all so strange,—the feeling I had about that -word “we.†There was a slow dawning in my soul that never before had the -word “humanity†meant anything but a white humanity to me—a universal -love for black, yellow, chocolate, brown, saffron humanity had never -come fully into my consciousness. And, while I sat there in that vast, -black assemblage, the long, terrible past of Jamaica arose before me, -and, too, the doubtful future loomed up in gloomy outlines, and I -wondered what would be the outcome of it all. Where would the Englishman -be in another century in Jamaica? Would Jamaica revert back to the -Haïtien type, or is<a name="page_232" id="page_232"></a> some hand coming to uphold the island? It is far -from my intention to touch upon the political situation in -Jamaica,—especially as I don’t know anything about it. I can only tell -you what I saw, and you can draw your own conclusions. All I can say is, -where is the white man in Jamaica? What is his position, and what has -brought him into his present deplorable condition? Has the white blood -after all so little potency?</p> - -<p>One needs but to glance at James Anthony Froude’s masterful book, “The -English in the West Indies,†in order to see the why and wherefore of it -all. His words have greater force to-day than even at the time of his -writing, for the course of events has more than justified his -predictions.</p> - -<p>Our opinions of the situation were wholly unbiased, for we did not read -Froude’s account until long after, so that our sensations, our -surprises, at the Jamaican English Church service, were wholly original.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_233_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_233_sml.jpg" width="378" height="176" alt="The Plaza Cienfuegos, Cuba" -title="The Plaza Cienfuegos, Cuba" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">The Plaza<br /> -Cienfuegos, Cuba</span> -</p> - -<p>The service proceeded through the prayers—our prayers—and then came -the sermon. I shall never forget the text. It was taken from that -masterpiece of Biblical literature,<a name="page_234" id="page_234"></a><a name="page_235" id="page_235"></a><a name="page_233" id="page_233"></a> the thirteenth chapter of First -Corinthians: “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and -have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.â€</p> - -<p>The priest had been there for over thirty years, and he began:</p> - -<p>“Beloved in the Lord, my children!†And we, white and black, were all -his children. We were in a strangely reversed situation, for even the -good priest had the tawny hue of Africa faintly shining in his fine -face. No mention of colour distinction was made: but which of us was to -have the charity? Did it not seem that he pleaded for the white -man—that the stronger black should have more charity? Or was it for us -as well? And it seemed to me I realised for the first time the position -of our well-bred Southerner; and everything was jumbled and queer in my -mind as the priest spoke. And his beautiful strong face shone over the -people, and his voice quivered with a deep love, touching the raiment of -one who said, “Come unto me all ye‗all—all—all! The white arches -echoed back the pleadings, the commands, the love, while in<a name="page_236" id="page_236"></a> quiet -eloquence he told of One who set his face steadfastly toward Jerusalem.</p> - -<p>The church emptied itself, and we were left with the priest, and the old -sunken tombs, and the sleeping organ, and the white light streaming -through the windows. And we wondered if we had yet learned what the -Master meant when he said:</p> - -<p>“Come unto me all ye<a name="page_237" id="page_237"></a>—â€</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_237_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_237_sml.jpg" width="342" height="232" alt="The Grave of Cervera’s Fleet West of Santiago de Cuba" -title="The Grave of Cervera’s Fleet West of Santiago de Cuba" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">The Grave of Cervera’s Fleet<br /> -West of Santiago de Cuba</span> -</p> - -<p><a name="page_238" id="page_238"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_239" id="page_239"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br /><br /> -<small>“CUANDO SALIDE LA HABANAâ€</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I sometimes think that never blows so red<br /></span> -<span class="i1">The rose as where some buried Cæsar bled;<br /></span> -<span class="i1">That every hyacinth the garden wears<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head.â€<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HE dream days have come and gone. We have left historic Santiago with -its forts and battle-fields, and the beautiful harbour of busy -commercial Cienfuegos; we have skirted along the southern coast of Cuba, -Pearl of the Antilles, through the Yucatan Channel, into the Gulf of -Mexico, and now we are come to Havana, where countless voices call us in -every direction both day and night.</p> - -<p>And yet it is not of Santiago, the old <i>Merrimac</i> lying in midchannel, -El Caney, or San Juan Hill that I am writing to-day—no, nor of the -wrecks of Cervera’s fleet strewn in rocking skeletons along the coast. -No, those stories<a name="page_240" id="page_240"></a> have long since been well told you—those tragic -stories of battle and death, gone now into the past with the echoes of -muffled drums and the shuffling feet of sick soldier boys, dragging -themselves home when the day of vengeance was over. No, it is not of -that I am writing, but of a day which I gave to you, O mothers of our -glorious marines! and I take it now from out the memories of those sunny -isles, a precious keepsake, that it may be yours for ever.</p> - -<p>You are known to me, yet I cannot speak your names. You are near to me, -yet the continent divides us. Your eyes speak to me, and yet, should we -meet, you would pass unrecognised. A universal love, a universal memory -has called you to me, and space cannot separate us.</p> - -<p>In this city of beauty, though alluring at every turn, there was one -pilgrimage, come what may, I would not fail to make. The Morro and -Cabañas might be slighted, but not that patch of green earth away over -the hill where the boys of the <i>Maine</i> lie buried so near the waters -that engulfed them.<a name="page_241" id="page_241"></a></p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_241_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_241_sml.jpg" width="343" height="230" alt="Wreck of the Maine Havana Harbour, Cuba Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co." -title="Wreck of the Maine Havana Harbour, Cuba Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Wreck of the Maine<br /> -Havana Harbour, Cuba<br /> -<small>Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.</small></span> -</p> - -<p><a name="page_242" id="page_242"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_243" id="page_243"></a></p> - -<p>Far from the city they rest, where none may trouble their deep slumbers. -Their only monument a bare worn path where thousands of those who loved -your boys and honoured their memory have trodden down the grass about -the lowly bed.</p> - -<p>It was a day as still as heaven, when in the City of the Dead I silently -took my way; and coming to their long home I knelt down in the moist -coverlet of grass and folding my hands looked up into the infinite depth -of the blue sky, which dropped its peaceful curtain so tenderly over -them. I seemed to stand upon a sun-kissed summit, from which I might -scan the whole earth. And it was from there, afar off, I felt the -yearning of your tears. I reached down to the earth and gathered some -humble little flowers which pitying had throbbed out their sweet souls -over the blessed dead; and I held them lovingly in my hands, and then -placed them within the leaves of a book, thinking that some day when we -should meet I would give them to you. And now they wait for your coming, -O mothers! I could give you naught more precious.<a name="page_244" id="page_244"></a></p> - -<p>Yes, the days have come and gone as all days must, and we shall soon -have left the Isles of Endless Summer. But so long as life lasts, their -radiance will enfold us, and when the day is done, we shall draw the -curtain well content, knowing that no greater beauty can await us than -this fair earth has brought.<a name="page_245" id="page_245"></a></p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_245_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_245_sml.jpg" width="342" height="230" alt="Cabañas, La Punta, and Harbour Entrance Havana, Cuba Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co." -title="Cabañas, La Punta, and Harbour Entrance Havana, Cuba Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Cabañas, La Punta, and Harbour Entrance<br /> -Havana, Cuba<br /> -<small>Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.</small></span> -</p> - -<p><a name="page_246" id="page_246"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_247" id="page_247"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.<br /><br /> -<small>A MEMORY OF MARTINIQUE</small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“La façon d’être du pays est si agréable, la température si bonne, -et l’on y vit dans une liberté si honnête, que je n’aye pas vu un -seul homme, ny une seule femme, qui en soient revenus, en qui je -n’aye remarqué une grande passion d’y retourner.‗<span class="smcap">Le Père -Dutertre</span>, <i>writing in 1667</i>.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span> FEW insignificant little photographs are lying on the desk before me. -Some of them are blurred; some of them are out of focus. They have been -for many months packed away among bundles of other photographs of a -similar character, moved from their corner in the library amongst the -books of travel, only to be occasionally dusted by the indifferent -housemaid and packed away again out of sight.</p> - -<p>Days come and days go, and things move on in uniform measure, and life -glides silently away from us, and one day passes much as<a name="page_248" id="page_248"></a> does the day -before; and we plan and work and hope, and we build to-day upon the -assurances of yesterday and to-morrow; and, although we know that there -are times when love can be crushed out of a life, yet we base our hope -upon the eternal fixedness of love; and, although constantly face to -face with the mutability of all created things, we build upon the -eternal stability of matter. We hope by reason of an undying faith in -those we love; we build upon a belief in the immutability of the -everlasting hills; and we go on building and hoping until, with some, -there comes a day when the soul burns out, and the everlasting hills -crumble to ashes, and loving and building is no more, and there is never -loving or building again in the same way.</p> - -<p class="c">. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . .</p> - -<p>Much as we touch the sacred belongings of the beloved dead, do I now -bring forth from their lonely hiding-place the few photographs of St. -Pierre and the fascinating shores of Martinique, which we took last -winter, as we cruised through the Windward Islands.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_249_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_249_sml.jpg" width="341" height="232" alt="St. Pierre and Mt. Pelée before the Eruption Martinique Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of Harvard University" -title="St. Pierre and Mt. Pelée before the Eruption Martinique Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of Harvard University" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">St. Pierre and Mt. Pelée before the Eruption<br /> -Martinique<br /> -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University</span> -</p> - -<p>Having but just read the terrible tidings from Martinique that St. -Pierre has been utterly<a name="page_250" id="page_250"></a><a name="page_251" id="page_251"></a><a name="page_249" id="page_249"></a> destroyed by volcanic eruption, and the fair -island left an ash-heap, these one-time insignificant little pictures -become at once inexpressibly dear to me; and I have been sitting here -for a long, long time, looking first at one and then at another, with a -tenderness born of sorrow and love.</p> - -<p>Say what you may of the futility of a love which clings to places, it is -nevertheless a passion so deeply rooted in some natures that neither -life nor death seem able to cause its destruction. There is no reasoning -with love; it is born to be, to exist, and why we love there is no -finding out. Strange, this wonderful loving which comes to you and me! -Not alone the love we lavish upon God’s creatures; upon father, mother, -sister, brother, husband, wife, and children, and the whole world of -humankind; but upon all of God’s handiwork: His trees, His flowers, His -dear brown soil, His hills, His valleys, His broad, sweeping plains, His -high, loftily crested peaks, His lonely byways, where shy birds and -soft-footed beasts hold high carnival the livelong day.</p> - -<p>Beloved as are all of God’s creatures, there<a name="page_252" id="page_252"></a> are for each one of us a -few, a very few, souls without whom loving would seem to pass away. -Beautiful as is the great earth, there are chosen spots upon it for you -and for me, to which our thoughts revert with an infinite tenderness; -and were such sweet abiding-places suddenly to be blotted from the -earth, it would seem to us as though beauty had died for ever.</p> - -<p>Such a treasure-house was St. Pierre to me. In the midst of islands, -each rivalling the other in loveliness, Martinique had a claim for -homage which none other possessed. Its charm was felt even far out to -sea, as its lofty headlands, with terrible <i>Pelée</i> looking over, struck -a bold pace for the lesser isles to follow.</p> - -<p>As we approached the still, deep harbour,—although the hour was late -for landing,—we were so permeated by the puissant fascination of the -place, that, against the protests of old wiseacres aboard, we -nevertheless took the first available small boat, lured into the arms of -St. Pierre by her irresistible summons.</p> - -<p>And what was that summons? Who can tell?<a name="page_253" id="page_253"></a></p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_253_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_253_sml.jpg" width="343" height="229" alt="St. Pierre and Mt. Pelée after the Eruption Martinique Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of Harvard University" -title="St. Pierre and Mt. Pelée after the Eruption Martinique Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of Harvard University" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">St. Pierre and Mt. Pelée after the Eruption<br /> -Martinique<br /> -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University</span> -</p> - -<p><a name="page_254" id="page_254"></a><a name="page_255" id="page_255"></a></p> - -<p>The same hand beckoned us which has for generations been beckoning other -children of men; other children who have gone there to live and die -content; the same that beckoned old Father Dutertre hundreds of years -ago. Children’s children have been born there, and have grown old and -withered, and have gone the way of all the earth, and <i>La Pelée</i>, the -giantess, has slept for generations, and the children had quite -forgotten that the day might come when she would awaken. <i>La Pelée</i> was -slumbering, oh! so gently—so peacefully, that far-away night, when we -first wondered at her beauty—and we, too, forgot! For did not her -children say that she would never waken more?</p> - -<p>The soft, blue hills said, “Come!†The lonely peaks, beyond, said, -“Come!†And the little city waved its pretty white hand to us with -“Come!†in every motion; and the sweet-voiced creole lads, who rowed us -in, smiled, “Come!†and what could we do?</p> - -<p>And then, when we entered the little city, it was so snug and clean, and -it was all so different, so different. How can I explain it to you? -There was, as it were, a homogeneousness<a name="page_256" id="page_256"></a> about the people which was not -apparent in the other islands. Here was a people whose sires had sprung -from the best blood of France, from a race of great men and women; here -the question of colour had been more harmoniously worked out; and we -felt at once that we were amongst those whose ancestors had learned, -through the streaming blood of kings and princes, the principles of -Liberty, Equality, and Justice.</p> - -<p>The people said, “Come!†and we answered, and long, long into the night -we were following the summons.</p> - -<p>Then it was that <i>La Pelée</i> was fair, and she lay so still, so still, -that the children forgot—if they ever really knew—that very beautiful -women can sometimes be very wicked—only “sometimes,†for there are so -many beautiful good women.</p> - -<p>But the children loved <i>La Pelée</i>; she was beautiful, and she took her -bath so gently, away amongst the clouds and mist of the morning.</p> - -<p class="c">. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . .</p> - -<p>As I look again in the unchanging photograph at the dark mountains and -the tiny white<a name="page_258" id="page_258"></a><a name="page_259" id="page_259"></a><a name="page_257" id="page_257"></a> city, cuddled down by the sea, with its quaint -lighthouse and its old church, there rises a strange mist over my soul, -and a blur comes into my eyes, and I feel myself pressing the cold bit -of cardboard against my lips as I would the face of a beloved.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_257_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_257_sml.jpg" width="345" height="230" alt="Rue Victor Hugo before the Eruption St. Pierre, Martinique Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of Harvard University" -title="Rue Victor Hugo before the Eruption St. Pierre, Martinique Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of Harvard University" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Rue Victor Hugo before the Eruption<br /> -St. Pierre, Martinique<br /> -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University</span> -</p> - -<p>It comes to me that once again there has gone from my life for eternity -that which can never return; just as the whole bright world can be -changed into darkness by the passing out of a soul we love; and we know -that, however much we long for its return, it can never come back; that -from that hour we tread the way alone. The silent spirit takes up the -light, falters a moment at the door, turning, smiles sweetly upon us, -and is gone, and we are left in a dark room. Oh! the love that we -mortals lavish in this world of ours!</p> - -<p>There was about Martinique a sweetness, a translucent loveliness, an -unforgettableness which crept into the innermost fibre of my being. It -even seemed to creep into my blood and pulsate through my body with -every beat of my heart.</p> - -<p>I listen now to the memories of my soul, and<a name="page_260" id="page_260"></a> hear again the sweet, soft -voices of the creole girls and the quick, noiseless tread of the -carriers of water, fruits, and cacao coming down from Morne Rouge, -coming from the tender shadows which droop caressingly about the feet of -slumbering <i>Pelée</i>. And I can hear the cool trickle of the water from -the half-hidden fountain in a cranny of the wall; and I hear the rush of -the stream down from the mountainside, over stones as white as milk. And -sweet, shy flowers hang over high walls and nod to me; and from green -blinds in low, white mansions, I hear soft young voices, whispering and -laughing. A youth passes, as the blind opens, and he laughs and goes to -the other side of the street to beckon, and, oh! there it is again—the -old story.</p> - -<p>And I go on and on, and I come to the <i>Rivière Roxelane</i> where the women -are spreading their clothes to dry on the great rocks, and the river -tumbles along, and twists in and out with gentle murmurs, and the women -are washing and laughing.</p> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg_261_lg.jpg"> -<br /> -<img class="enlargeimage" -src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" -alt="" -width="18" -height="14" /> -<br /> -<img src="images/ill_pg_261_sml.jpg" width="344" height="231" alt="Rue Victor Hugo after the Eruption St. Pierre, Martinique Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of Harvard University" -title="Rue Victor Hugo after the Eruption St. Pierre, Martinique Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of Harvard University" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Rue Victor Hugo after the Eruption<br /> -St. Pierre, Martinique<br /> -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University</span> -</p> - -<p>And I go on to the palms, higher up, and some one brings me wild -strawberries from<a name="page_262" id="page_262"></a><a name="page_263" id="page_263"></a><a name="page_261" id="page_261"></a> the cool mountains, and I sit down and pick them -from the basket and eat to my heart’s delight; and I rest on the bridge, -so old, all covered with moss and flowers, and I look down into the -valley, where the city lies, and beyond where it dabbles its feet into -the blue sea. And the picture is framed in an oval of green, drooping -trees, and whispering vines, and deep-scented flowers.</p> - -<p class="c">. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . . -. . . . .</p> - -<p>It must have come—<i>the end</i>—just as the good priest was saying mass -down in the white church by the sea, and the creole girls had come from -the mountains with their sticks of palm—for salad—and had sold their -fruits in the market, and had gone with the fishermen to the good -priest; and the white church was crowded to the doors,—for the priest -was beloved, and the church had broad arms,—and the boys were chanting, -when—my God! where should the children escape? The fiery mountain back -of them and the deep sea before them and the air about them a sweeping -furnace!</p> - -<p>“Children! Children!†I seem to hear the<a name="page_264" id="page_264"></a> clear, ringing voice of the -old priest. “I commit your souls to God. Amen, amen.â€</p> - -<p>The beautiful <i>Pelée</i> burned out her wicked soul, the River Roxelane ran -dry, the dear, blue sky of morning was turned to hideous night, the -white city fell in blazing ruins, and now the everlasting hills lift -their scarred sides in grim desolation.</p> - -<p class="c">THE END</p> - -<p><a name="page_265" id="page_265"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</h2> - -<p class="nind"> -Andes Mountains, The, <a href="#page_067">67</a>, <a href="#page_084">84</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>.<br /> -Aragua River, Venezuela, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>.<br /> -Bank, The, Caracas, <a href="#page_106">106-111</a>.<br /> -Blue Mountains, The, Jamaica, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_205">205</a>.<br /> -Bolivar, <a href="#page_095">95</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Statue of, <a href="#page_084">84</a>, <a href="#page_087">87</a>.</span><br /> -Botanical Gardens, The, Martinique, <a href="#page_015">15</a>, <a href="#page_020">20</a>.<br /> -Botanical Gardens, The, Port of Spain, <a href="#page_015">15-34</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ceiba-Tree, The, <a href="#page_016">16</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Coffee-Tree, The, <a href="#page_024">24</a>.</span><br /> -Cabañas, Havana, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> -Caracas, Venezuela, <a href="#page_064">64</a>, <a href="#page_068">68</a>, <a href="#page_073">73</a>, <a href="#page_077">77</a>, <a href="#page_079">79-124</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bank, The, <a href="#page_106">106-111</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cathedral, The, <a href="#page_084">84</a>, <a href="#page_087">87</a>, <a href="#page_096">96-97</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_118">118-120</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gran Hotel de Caracas, The, <a href="#page_080">80</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gran Hotel de Venezuela, The, <a href="#page_081">81-84</a>, <a href="#page_096">96</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Market, The, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Military Band, The, <a href="#page_097">97-99</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Municipal Palace, The, <a href="#page_094">94-96</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Plaza, The, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Society of Caracas, The <a href="#page_122">122-124</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Square of Bolivar, The, <a href="#page_084">84</a>, <a href="#page_087">87</a>.</span><br /> -Caribbean Sea, The, <a href="#page_036">36</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>.<br /> -Castro, Cipriano, <a href="#page_088">88-89</a>, <a href="#page_096">96</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_179">179</a>.<br /> -Cathedral, The, Caracas, <a href="#page_084">84</a>, <a href="#page_087">87</a>, <a href="#page_096">96-97</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_118">118-120</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>.<br /> -Ceiba-Tree, The, <a href="#page_016">16</a>.<br /> -Cervera, Admiral, <a href="#page_180">180-182</a>.<br /> -Cienfuegos, Cuba, <a href="#page_239">239</a>.<br /> -Coffee-Tree, The, <a href="#page_024">24</a>.<br /> -Curaçao, Island of, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_176">176-179</a>. <i>See also <a href="#Willemstad">Willemstad</a>.</i><br /> -El Caney, Cuba, <a href="#page_239">239</a>.<br /> -Gran Hotel de Caracas, The, Caracas, <a href="#page_080">80</a>.<br /> -Gran Hotel de Venezuela, The, Caracas, <a href="#page_081">81-84</a>, <a href="#page_096">96</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>.<br /> -Great Venezuelan Railway, The, <a href="#page_139">139-142</a>.<a name="page_266" id="page_266"></a><br /> -Gulf of Mexico, The, <a href="#page_239">239</a>.<br /> -Gulf of Paria, The, <a href="#page_011">11</a>, <a href="#page_064">64</a>.<br /> -Havana, Cuba, <a href="#page_239">239</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cabañas, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Morro, The, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.</span><br /> -Jamaica, Island of, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_211">211-212</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blue Mountains, The, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_205">205</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kingston, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_205">205</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_224">224-236</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mandeville, <a href="#page_201">201</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Natives, The, <a href="#page_227">227-228</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rio Cobre, <a href="#page_205">205</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Spanish Town, <a href="#page_211">211-212</a>.</span><br /> -Kingston, Jamaica, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_205">205</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Parish Church, The, <a href="#page_224">224-236</a>.</span><br /> -La Brea, Trinidad, <a href="#page_035">35</a>, <a href="#page_042">42-59</a>.<br /> -La Guayra, Venezuela, <a href="#page_064">64</a>, <a href="#page_068">68</a>, <a href="#page_069">69-72</a>, <a href="#page_078">78</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>.<br /> -Lake of Valencia, Venezuela, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_145">145-146</a>.<br /> -Mandeville, Jamaica, <a href="#page_201">201</a>.<br /> -Margarita, Island of, <a href="#page_064">64</a>.<br /> -Market, The, Caracas, <a href="#page_103">103-106</a>.<br /> -Martinique, Island of, <a href="#page_248">248-264</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Botanical Gardens, <a href="#page_015">15</a>, <a href="#page_020">20</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mount Pelée, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_263">263-264</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rivière Roxelane, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">St. Pierre, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>.</span><br /> -Military Band, The, Caracas, <a href="#page_097">97-99</a>.<br /> -Morro, The, Havana, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> -Mount Pelée, Martinique, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_263">263-264</a>.<br /> -Municipal Palace, The, Caracas, <a href="#page_094">94-96</a>.<br /> -Natives, The, of Curaçao, <a href="#page_160">160-163</a>, <a href="#page_177">177-178</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of Jamaica, <a href="#page_227">227-228</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of Trinidad, <a href="#page_051">51</a>, <a href="#page_056">56</a>.</span><br /> -Orinoco River, The, <a href="#page_011">11</a>, <a href="#page_064">64</a>.<br /> -Parish Church, The, Kingston, <a href="#page_224">224-236</a>.<br /> -Plaza, The, Caracas, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>.<br /> -Port of Spain, Trinidad, <a href="#page_012">12</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Botanical Gardens, The, <a href="#page_015">15-34</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Queen’s Park Hotel, The, <a href="#page_012">12-14</a>.</span><br /> -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela, <a href="#page_078">78</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>.<br /> -Queen’s Park Hotel, Port of Spain, <a href="#page_012">12-14</a>.<br /> -Rio Cobre, Jamaica, <a href="#page_205">205</a>.<br /> -River Tuy, The, Venezuela, <a href="#page_144">144-145</a>.<br /> -Rivière Roxelane, The, Martinique, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>.<br /> -St. Pierre, Martinique, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>.<br /> -San Juan Hill, Cuba, <a href="#page_239">239</a>.<br /> -Santiago, Cuba, <a href="#page_239">239</a>.<br /> -Society of Caracas, The, <a href="#page_122">122-124</a>.<br /> -Southern Cross, The, <a href="#page_189">189-191</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>.<br /> -Spanish Town, Jamaica, <a href="#page_211">211-212</a>.<br /> -Square of Bolivar, The, Caracas, <a href="#page_084">84</a>, <a href="#page_087">87</a>.<br /> -Trinidad, Island of, <a href="#page_011">11</a>, <a href="#page_016">16</a>, <a href="#page_029">29</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Natives, The, <a href="#page_051">51</a>, <a href="#page_056">56</a>.</span><br /> -Valencia, Venezuela, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>.<br /> -<a name="Willemstad" id="Willemstad"></a>Willemstad, Curaçao, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_160">160-184</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>.<br /> -Yucatan Channel, The, <a href="#page_239">239</a>.<br /> -</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2, by -Ida May Hill Starr - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES, V. 2/2 *** - -***** This 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2 - Sketches of a Cruise to the West Indies and the Spanish Main - -Author: Ida May Hill Starr - -Release Date: September 20, 2013 [EBook #43771] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES, V. 2/2 *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES - - VOLUME II. - - Travel Lovers' Library - - [Illustration] - - _Each in two volumes profusely illustrated_ - - Florence - By GRANT ALLEN - - Romance and Teutonic Switzerland - By W. D. MCCRACKAN - - Old World Memories - By EDWARD LOWE TEMPLE - - Paris - By GRANT ALLEN - - Feudal and Modern Japan - By ARTHUR MAY KNAPP - - The Unchanging East - By ROBERT BARR - - Venice - By GRANT ALLEN - - Gardens of the Caribbees - By IDA M. H. STARR - - Belgium: Its Cities - By GRANT ALLEN - -[Illustration] - - L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY - Publishers - 200 Summer Street, Boston, Mass. - -[Illustration: FROM OUR BALCONY - -CARACAS, VENEZUELA.] - - - - - GARDENS OF - THE CARIBBEES - - Sketches of a Cruise to the West - Indies and the Spanish Main - - By - Ida M. H. Starr - - IN TWO VOLUMES - VOL. II. - _ILLUSTRATED_ - - [Illustration: colophon] - - Boston - L. C. Page & Company - _MDCCCCIV_ - - _Copyright, 1903_ - By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY - (INCORPORATED) - - _All rights reserved_ - - Published July, 1903 - - Colonial Press - Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. - Boston, Mass., U.S.A. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - I. ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. "IERE" 11 - - II. ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. LA BREA 35 - - III. THE SPANISH MAIN 64 - - IV. IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS 101 - - V. IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS TO PUERTO CABELLO 125 - - VI. CURACAO. CITY OF WILLEMSTAD 153 - - VII. THE SOUTHERN CROSS 189 - -VIII. KINGSTON, JAMAICA 198 - - IX. "CUANDO SALIDE LA HABANA" 239 - - X. A MEMORY OF MARTINIQUE 247 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - -VOLUME II. - PAGE - -FROM OUR BALCONY, CARACAS, VENEZUELA _Frontispiece_ - -THE BARRACKS, THROUGH LIVE-OAKS AND MAHOGANY-TREES, TRINIDAD 17 - -GOVERNOR'S PALACE AND PUBLIC GARDENS, PORT OF SPAIN, TRINIDAD 21 - -ON THE WAY TO THE SAVANNAH, PORT OF SPAIN, TRINIDAD 31 - -THE BEACH OF LA BREA, TRINIDAD 39 - -ASPHALT FOR NORTHERN PAVEMENTS, PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 47 - -LOADING CARS, PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 53 - -A NATIVE WASHERWOMAN ON THE PITCH LAKE, TRINIDAD 57 - -WHERE THE MOUNTAINS MEET THE SEA, LA GUAYRA, VENEZUELA 65 - -CARACAS AND THE MOUNTAINS, VENEZUELA 75 - -EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 85 - -AN INTERIOR COURT, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 91 - -CATHEDRAL AND PLAZA, CARACAS, VENEZUELA 111 - -A HOUSE BESIDE THE SEA, PUERTO CABELLO, VENEZUELA 127 - -A SOUTH AMERICAN STREET, PUERTO CABELLO, VENEZUELA 149 - -ACROSS STE. ANNE BAY, HARBOUR OF WILLEMSTAD, CURACAO 157 - -SOME OF OUR FRIENDS AT WILLEMSTAD.--WHERE THE BASKET-WOMEN WAITED, -WILLEMSTAD, CURACAO 161 - -THE LANDING, WILLEMSTAD, CURACAO 165 - -A Jolly Dutch Port, Willemstad, Curacao 173 - -A SNUG HARBOUR, WILLEMSTAD, CURACAO 185 - -KINGSTON, JAMAICA, FROM THE BAY 199 - -RIO COBRE, NEAR SPANISH TOWN, JAMAICA 203 - -A NATIVE HUT, JAMAICA 209 - -THE BOG WALK ROAD, NEAR SPANISH TOWN, JAMAICA 213 - -WHERE WE LANDED, KINGSTON, JAMAICA 223 - -EL MORRO, ENTRANCE TO HARBOUR, SANTIAGO DE CUBA 229 - -THE PLAZA, CIENFUEGOS, CUBA 233 - -THE GRAVE OF CERVERA'S FLEET, WEST OF SANTIAGO DE CUBA 237 - -THE WRECK OF THE MAINE, HAVANA HARBOUR, CUBA 241 - -CABANAS, LA PUNTA, AND HARBOUR ENTRANCE, HAVANA, CUBA 245 - -ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELEE BEFORE THE ERUPTION, MARTINIQUE 249 - -ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELEE AFTER THE ERUPTION, MARTINIQUE 253 - -RUE VICTOR HUGO BEFORE THE ERUPTION, ST. PIERRE, MARTINIQUE 257 - -RUE VICTOR HUGO AFTER THE ERUPTION, ST. 267 - - - - -Gardens of the Caribbees - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -ISLAND OF TRINIDAD, "IERE" - - -I. - -Had we known just a little more about Trinidad, it would have made a -great difference in that luncheon, but it all came out wrong because -some of us didn't know. Too late to influence us in the least, we read -in the _Daily Gleaner_, of Jamaica, that the beef sold in Trinidad is -exported alive from Venezuela. To be sure, we were aware that Venezuela -occupies a large part of the northern coast of South America, and were -conscious that Trinidad lies enclosed in a great bay of that coast, -called the Gulf of Paria, off the delta of the Orinoco River; also, in a -hazy way, we knew that the Spanish Main is a name applied somewhat -vaguely to that same South American coast--a relic of the days of -pirates, buccaneers, and freebooting English admirals; but we no more -expected to be served a roast of beef from the Spanish Main than a dish -of Boston baked beans from our castles in Spain. The two dimly -intangible names had ever borne a close comradeship in our minds, a -poetic association affiliated them in closest bonds. The same sun kissed -into rose tints the turrets of our castles in Spain and the lofty -summits of the Spanish Main. The same romance lifted them both away from -reality into that land just bordering upon the Islands of the Blest, and -much as we longed to materialise our dreams, and make the Spanish Main a -usable fact, when the opportunity came for us to do so, it slipped away -from us before we were conscious of its existence. - -Unaware that the illuminated postal-card _menu_ on the table at the -Queen's Park Hotel, Port of Spain, could in any sense lift the veil from -our enchantments, we read the following bill of fare: - - Mayonnaise of Fish, with Lettuce - Oysters _en Poulet_ - Scrambled Eggs with Asparagus Tips - Irish Stew - Haricot of Oxtail - Brain Fritters - Curry of Veal _a l'Indien_ - Boiled Turkey and Rice - Ham and Spinach - Fried Sausages and Potatoes - Salad - Assorted Cold Meats - String Beans Rice Mashed Potatoes - Macaroni _au Gratin_ - Chocolate Ice-cream Cakes - Cheese - -Eight of us sat down at a table on the veranda, white-walled, -white-ceilinged, and white pillared. A white-gravelled walk led out into -the white sun, through a stiff, boxed-in, English garden, stuffed with -plants in green tubs, and redeemed only by those natural things that -will grow and be beautiful in spite of all conventions. Thirsting for -cool ices and delectable fruits, looking wistfully for our vanishing -fancies of West Indian ambrosia, we turn in a listless, disappointed way -to that bill of fare, where ham and spinach and Irish stew and fried -sausages send our hopes a-scampering off like a lot of frightened -children. - -What man in his sane mind would order an haricot of ox-tail in the -tropics, when he needs but lift his hand for the food of Paradise; what -man, with any sense of the fitness of things, would eat curried veal, -when, for the asking, he might sup a libation fit for the gods? Alas! -The asking never brought it, and we--that is, one, at least--settled -down to scrambled eggs, and felt and looked unutterable scorn upon the -one next at table who began at mayonnaise of fish, and took every course -to cheese. Ah! friends, this was a case where the one who didn't know -fared ill. She lost her first opportunity of paying her respects to the -Spanish Main. - -Hungry and disillusioned, the one and the only thing to do is to forget -those steaming sausages and the Irish stew as quickly as possible. We -shall not stay here a moment longer. Hotels are makeshifts at the best. -Let us leave these unromantic, unscrupulous venders of ham and spinach! - -There, over yonder on the other side of the savannah, there is a -delicious retreat where we can make good our escape. - - -II. - -We shall never again see anything which can compare in beauty, of its -kind, with the _Jardin des Plantes_ of Martinique. No, we never -shall--still, we must be just to all. Trinidad's Botanical Garden is -beautiful in its own way, and we were impressed with the idea that it -possessed some features which that of Martinique lacked. However, that -might have been owing to the fact that we did not view the Martinique -Garden in its entirety. Had we done so, we might have found the same -species in both places. - -From casual observation there seemed to me to be one distinctive -characteristic of tropical vegetation; the trees did not appear to grow -so much in great social orders as do those of temperate zones. In the -North, vast families of the same species of trees gather together and -keep together with as rigid a pertinacity as any Scotch clan; the beech, -birch, oak, maple, pine, hemlock, walnut, hickory, all have their pet -homes and their own relations, and no amount of coddling or persuasion -will ever induce them to a wide change of _habitat_; but in the far -South, the tropical trees seem willing to settle anywhere in this land -of endless summer. Of course, one finds that certain trees love the -swamps, and others prefer the high lands; and some will grow in greater -magnificence in some places where the conditions are absolutely -congenial, than in other places where they are not so. There is the -mangrove; it loves the wet and the mire--the mosquito-ridden, miasmatic -river borders--and wherever, on these coasts, you find a swamp, whether -in the very hottest spots, or in others only moderately so, there you'll -find the mangrove sending out aerial roots, reaching down into the muck -for new strength, forming--banyan-like--a family of new trunks, all -under one leafy canopy, quite content if only it has the water about its -roots and a certain degree of heat. - -Away up there in Haiti, we find the ceiba, and down here in Trinidad it -is equally at home. These conditions make the formation of a botanical -garden, representing the world-growth of sunlit vegetation, peculiarly -favourable. Trinidad is said to possess the most superb collection of -tropical plants in existence; and though gathered from all lands, -growing not as strangers or even stepchildren, but as rightful heirs to -the immeasurable vital force which pours forth from a rich soil warmed -by a blazing sun the year around. - -[Illustration: THE BARRACKS, THROUGH LIVE-OAKS AND MAHOGANY-TREES - -Trinidad] - -The garden once entered, we pass a great, squarely built mansion, the -governor's residence, and are in the midst of a wonderful vegetation -from the first step. At the very entrance, we are greeted with, perhaps, -the most unique tree in these latitudes. - -After all, there is something stupefying in the effort to describe -tropical wonders. When they are passing before one's eyes, each has a -feature distinct to itself, which, in a way, is its own manner of -description. Each has its peculiar wonder, its own glory,--no two -alike--and yet, when one sits down to think it over, there is the same -old alphabet from which to draw new pictures, new miracles; and how to -make each different with the same letters is a question indeed. - -If I could only tell you the name of this particular tree which stands -at the entrance to the garden, you might some day hunt it up yourself, -but as I know neither its family nor home, we will let that all go, and -just tell you how it is dressed. - -It is a heavily, glossily leafed, symmetrical, low tree, just about the -size of those dear old cherry-trees we used to climb, oh, so long,--so -long ago! From the tip of every branch there drops a cord-like fibre -about a foot and a half long, and at the end of this little brown string -there hangs a cluster of delicate pink flowers. These are suspended in -almost exact length in rows from the lowest to the highest branch, and -it really seems as if Nature were experimenting to see what wonderful -living garlands she could create for a canopy above our heads. - - -III. - -The character of the garden is defined at once upon entrance. It is a -botanical garden, pure and simple, a place for strange plants from far -away, a sort of orphan asylum for everybody's vegetable baby. It is not, -like Martinique, an enchanted forest with cascades and glens fit for -nymphs and dryads; it is matter-of-fact, orderly, prim, and -businesslike. Aside from its unique trees, there is little to attract -one, so we decide for once it would be wise to engage a guide who can -tell us something about the inhabitants of the place, which otherwise -promises to be rather dull. - -[Illustration: GOVERNOR'S PALACE AND PUBLIC GARDENS - -Port of Spain, Trinidad] - -So we hunt up a crooked, stump-legged Portuguese gardener, by name -Manuel, who takes our heavy baskets, we following down a little glen -which grows at once quite dark and sweet and silent. - -Through long, freshly cut bamboo poles, streams of water are being -carried hither and thither to special spots in the garden, and we stop -to watch the trickling, and dip our hands down into its pleasant -coolness. Away up through the dark leafage, a mighty royal palm with -stern aristocratic grace swings and rattles its great, dead, brown -arms--the skeleton of its last year's growth--beneath the luxuriant -crown of this year's green plumes. - -In the thicket, we find the nutmegs, hiding among the delicate foliage -of a low-branching tree. Sister reaches among the leaves and pulls off -some of the fragrant fruit, and gathers many from the ground. A sense of -rare luxuriance comes over us. This gathering of the spices of life from -the very ground upon which we tread is intoxicating, and we just begin -to understand the causes back of those dark pages of West Indian -history, when man first partook of this delirium. - -These large-leafed, upright little trees are the Madagascar coffee, and -the smaller and more graceful ones, the Java coffee--how they take us -back to those happy days and months among the coffee plantations, long -ago!--and near by is the friendly banana, so common an object that we -pass its torn, drooping leaves with scarcely a thought, but it is worth -more than a passing glance, for there is no plant in all the tropics -more useful than the banana. It has not only delicious fruit of many -sizes and varieties, but it is also cooked as a vegetable, and forms one -of the chief sources of the native diet. It is planted, on account of -its heavy shade and quick growth, to shade the coffee, while trees of -slower growth and more permanent shade are maturing, thus forming a -necessary and temporary protection; it is also used for the same purpose -among the cacao trees. It is a sort of foster-mother to the cacao, to -care for the tender shrub until its real mother, "_La Madre del Cacao_," -can assume permanent care of its charge. The banana takes so little -vitality from the ground that, as protection to the coffee and cacao, it -is indispensable. We had some very delicious, green-skinned bananas at -several places, and found the small apple banana everywhere. - -Manuel leads us on, and stops under a spindling, tall tree, flowering -with dainty, pink buds of a delicious odour, and there's one branch just -low enough for Little Blue Ribbons to reach on tiptoe. Does it seem -possible that the little brown cloves, rattling in my spice-box at home, -could ever have been so fresh and soft and pink? Poor little mummies! - -And just see what we are coming to! Did you ever imagine there could be -such shade? It's a tree from the Philippines. We stoop to get under the -black leaves, and there the shade is absolutely impenetrable. What an -adjustment of things there is in this grand old earth of ours! - -My thoughts fly back to our Northern woods. I see the sinuously graceful -elms, with the sunlight streaming through their wide open branches upon -an earth longing for warmth; and long shafts of white noonday shooting -through the interstices of basswood, maple, and ash; the woods are not -black and sunless; they are translucently green, quivering with light -and needed warmth. But here, where the sun is a ball of redundant flame -the year around, Nature bequeaths to her children a shaded forest, -rigidly trunked, stolidly formed, thick-leafed, which no blazing sun can -penetrate or sweeping hurricane desolate. - - -IV. - -Quite as one strokes the head of a favourite animal, Manuel leads us to -an insignificant-looking tree, takes a branch caressingly in his hand, -brings out his clumsy knife, selects just the right spot, cuts off a -bit, and hands us a piece of camphor wood. - -Into the dear St. Thomas basket it goes, with the leaves of coffee, the -pink and white clove blossoms, and a long spray of _araucaria_ from the -Norfolk Islands,--a strange company, indeed! - -Yonder long yellow avenues are cinnamon and spice groves with -reddish-yellow bark, smooth as wax, casting slender shadows in the -golden light. Here is the shaddock, entirely weaned from its Malayan -home, and farther on a clump of low bushes, in among the nutmeg trees -and coffee, with small satin-like leaf, brings us to the herb that -"cheers but does not inebriate,"--the tea. - -Just see those glorious great lemons, glowing in the ever-splendid -sunlight, which transmits to every living object a radiance, a dazzling -brilliancy, in which life progresses and finally dissolves out of sheer -exhaustion from the exuberance of vitality. - -Oh, to our starved eyes of the North; to our senses benumbed by dreary -days of darkened sky, hearts chilled by bitterness of wind and gray, -unyielding frost, this never-ending, unspeakable sunlight, filtering -through the yellow vistas of clove and cinnamon, comes like the actual -presence of Apollo, the Shining One! We may, in unguarded moments, in -ungrateful moments, maybe, consider his embrace too positive, and we may -raise the white umbrella, but we never quite lose our rejuvenated love -for his golden glory. - -Manuel, but half-clad, looks as if he would dismember at any moment. His -trousers are hitched by a couple of old leathers, and his shirt looks -as if it wished it "didn't have to," and his old hat is only there on -sufferance, and his shoes--old flippety-flops--have dragged their -ill-shaped existence through many a weary mile. But Manuel doesn't care; -he loves his garden, and the sunshine and the luscious fruit, all his -children so well behaved and so obedient to his voice. He takes a bamboo -pole and gives one of the big, juicy lemons a rap, and down it falls on -Wee One's head with such a thump! Then Manuel is very sorry, and he -apologises for his child's misdemeanour in his funny, mixed-up -Portuguese-English-Spanish and the rest, and we understand and don't -mind a bit; in fact, we wouldn't care if more would fall in the same -way. - -Once upon a time, in the far-off golden days, when the Divine in -Creation had not been quite forgot, there came to this shore a band of -men,--not faultless, no, not faultless--but great men "for a' that," -who, with glittering cross aloft, christened this fair land after the -blessed Trinity. But this was not her first sacrament. Deep in the -eternal silence of the forest, the dweller in the High Wood had sought -expression of the divine through beauty, and chose a name from out the -radiant wilderness which would tell for ever of its wonderment: "Iere," -the land of the humming-bird, they called her--those dusky children of -the High Wood--and to this day she clings lovingly to her maiden name. - -We look about us. Where are the birds once peopling these forests, like -myriads of rainbows? Oh, sisters! members of Humane Societies! Hunt up -your old bonnets and see the poor little stuffed carcasses ornamenting -your cast-off finery! So Trinidad has been bereft of her wonderful -birds, and now there is but a name, a sad-sounding, meaningless -name--Iere--to tell of days which knew not the pride and cruelty of -women. - -Think of it!--at one time, there averaged twenty thousand humming-birds -a year exported from Trinidad to England alone! - -And now, well--there are none left to export. We must find new islands -to denude, to ravage, to desolate, for our adornment. But it's too -unpleasant,--this seeing things as they are; we'll hide the poor little -innocent card which the black woman gave us at the hotel; we'll cover up -the word "Iere" with these coffee leaves. There, now the spray of -_araucaria_, now the stick of camphor, and I think the lemon will fit -right in among the nutmegs. - -Come along, Manuel, we are ready; and we follow through the birdless -paths, down where the _Nux Vomica_ grows, and the pepper, and the lime -and the calabash, and the orange and breadfruit, and tamarind, and -pineapple; and we go on and wake up the comical lizards who scurry away -like brown flashes of whip-cord. What ridiculous creatures they are, and -how desperately frightened! Why, surely they must be fifteen inches -long, and fully four inches high, and what funny, nimble legs! They -start off in the same spasm-like way as do the toy lizards we buy for -the youngsters. - -Manuel brings us to the plant house where the great forest wonders of -the Far East are babied and loved into strength, and I could not but -think of Daudet's dear old _Tartarin of Tarascon_, dreaming by the -homesick little baobab-tree, which grew in his window-garden; and of the -long nights under the mellow moon of sunny France; and how he fought -great beasts and achieved great fame in the land of sweet illusion. - -[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO THE SAVANNAH - -Port of Spain, Trinidad - -Copyright. 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Dream on, Tartarin, wherever you may be! The time will come when it will -all be true, and you, too, will rest under the yellow splendour of the -golden trees; and the earth, the great Mother Earth, will open her heart -to you and breathe upon you the spirit of limitless possibilities! - -Good-bye, Manuel! The basket is heavy to carry with its spoils of fruit -and flowers; and we take "turn about" across the savannah. - -The races are on, and horses are dashing around the grassy turf, and the -Trinidadians are yelling, the cricket games are going, and the picnic -parties are gathering up their baskets for home; and the Hindoo girls -clamour to carry our basket, and we gladly give over the load to a tough -little head; and the merry-go-round wheezes out its squeaking tunes, and -we pass through the black crowd, and narrowly escape taking a cab, for -the way to the quay looks long, and we waver and weaken, and are just -about to give in, when up comes a tinkling tram, and we jump in, with a -penny to the Hindoo girl, and rumble away. - -The man with the two monkeys, and the man with the green and blue -parrot, and the boy with the shells, are still waiting. - -Alackaday! Where is the woman with the baskets? - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -ISLAND OF TRINIDAD. LA BREA - - -I. - -We were led to believe, through various accounts from former travellers, -that the excursion to the Pitch Lake would be attended with considerable -discomfort and some hardships. - -After a run of about four hours from Port of Spain, Trinidad, we made La -Brea at two o'clock in the afternoon of a blistering hot day. Fully -one-third of the ship's company were frightened off, while the rest of -us made ready for the much-anticipated expedition. - -It was a funny-looking company that stood at the gangway, waiting for -the first boat ashore. - -Handkerchiefs took the place of collars and ties; coats and vests were, -for the most part, discarded, and all endeavoured to make themselves as -light in wearing apparel as possible. - -The Caribbean Sea, which had, until now, been ruffled only by the -regular sweep of the "trades," was badly tossed by a strong wind, so -that the embarkation in the ship's boat was to me unpleasantly exciting. -The sea was running so high that, in order to reach the boat without -being wet through, we had to gauge our time well and take the jump just -as the boat was lifted to the top of the wave. As we started down the -ship's ladder, with Little Blue Ribbons tightly holding Daddy's hand, -Sister having gone before in the whale-boat with friends, the ship's -mate begged us to leave the Wee One with him. He said the sea was too -rough and the landing too difficult; and besides he would take such good -care of her, and she should have ice cream, and be a little queen all -day,--if she would only stay. So, with some tears, and disdain for -ice-cream, Little Blue Ribbons remained on board; the only time in the -journey thus far when she was not one of the party. - -Had it not been for the confident man, who likes the water, and the -absurdity of the thing, I should have begged to be taken back to the -ship. - -We were in the second boat. The captain had arranged to have the launch -tow us ashore, but the launch--true to the traditions of "oil -engines"--had no intention of towing us ashore; it puffed and popped and -made a great fuss, but would not move an inch. The engineer lost his -steerageway, and it seemed every moment as if the great, clumsy thing -would crash into us; and there we lay, going up and down the side of the -ship, rolling from side to side, and bobbing from bow to stern, in a -very disagreeable situation for those who don't like that sort of thing. - -I know quite well that I was not the only one who would gladly have felt -himself safe on the solid decks of our ship. For once, the incessant -talking had ceased, and our boat-load of people sat there absolutely -quiet, thinking very hard. - -After numerous unsuccessful attempts to make the launch behave, they -gave up the attempt, manned our life-boat with six round-faced, -lubberly, German "jackies," each with a big oar, and went off -independently. - -I was heartily thankful not to have been assigned to the launch, for it -could not compare in sea-going qualities with the boat in which we were -placed. - -As I said, it was a long row to the landing, but we finally reached -smooth water, and disembarked at the end of a long bridge-like pier; -not, however, without some difficulty. - -We were still some distance from shore, which was reached by means of a -narrow board walk, carried along one side of the pier, and bridging over -the shoal water. - -At the quay, a big "down-east" schooner (thank Heaven, there are a few -American merchant vessels left!), two barks, and one full-rigged ship, -were being loaded with pitch, by means of great steel buckets, -travelling on an endless wire cable, which went from the end of the -pier, up an incline, to the works on the hill, near to the great deposit -of pitch beyond. - -[Illustration: THE BEACH OF LA BREA - -Trinidad] - -This ship at the pier was the first full-rigged merchant ship we had -seen during the cruise--most merchantmen seeming now to be rigged as -barks or barkentines--and was, even in spite of its black cargo, a -beautiful sight. There is something in the look of a ship--its mass -of rigging, its straight yard-arms, well set up, its black, drooping -sails, half-furled, its inexplicable riddle of shrouds and stays and -braces and halliards and sheets--that always stirs my soul mysteriously. -Black as this vessel was, prosaic as was her cargo, unsightly the hands -that loaded her, she was a picture. By right, she should have carried -teas, and spices, and silks, and jewels; but she was worthy of -admiration despite her humble calling. - -Once on land, we realised, looking up the long, black hill ahead of us, -and feeling the heat from a blazing sun directly overhead, that the walk -would be a hard one, and that we must go slowly, in order to make it -with any degree of comfort; but walk we must, or stay on the beach. - -The pitch was in evidence immediately. Reefs of hard asphalt ran through -the sandy beach into the sea. The hill was covered with asphalt, and -down near the shore it lay in great wrinkles, where, when the road was -being made, it had overflowed and taken to the hedgeway. It was apparent -under the grass and weeds, around the roots of trees, and in the banana -groves; in fact, there was pitch everywhere, black, oozing, and dull. - - -II. - -Up the hill laboured the little procession of red-faced adventurers, in -all conditions of negligee. The large lady from Kansas puffed and -sweated and mopped her face; the doctor vowed we would die of sunstroke; -the mother and her daughter, from Boston, made the ascent as their -ancestors had stormed Bunker Hill, with features rigid and teeth set; -our neighbour at table, who had been thrice around the world, wondered -what on earth we would think of Manila in the summer-time if we called -this hot; our jolly, delightful friend from New Haven laughed us all the -way up the hill, and said he was suffering with the cold; the German -baron, under his green umbrella, passed us with the superb stride -acquired from his sturdy ancestors and his military training; down the -hill back of us straggled on the rest of the company: the little women, -the tall women, the lean ones, the fat ones, urged and supported by -long-suffering husbands and brothers and friends who mopped and fanned -furiously. - -There were hats of all descriptions: white East Indian helmets built of -pith and lined with green, deliciously light, cool things; and all -conceivable shapes of Puerto Rican hats, of a pretty, fine white palm -"straw," very much like the Panama; and hats from Haiti; and French hats -from Martinique; and then there were Puerto Rican sailor hats, one of -which I wore with great pride. Our shoes were the heaviest we had, and -our clothing the oldest and lightest available. - -Thus all marched on in broken file, with very hot faces, and shaded by -all manner of outlandish umbrellas, over the hot asphalt to the Pitch -Lake. - -As our little party plodded along, going so slowly it hardly seemed as -if we were making any progress at all, my courage began to wane -somewhat, for I remembered most vividly a similar day on the island of -Capri, when I had been overcome by the sun, and in consequence of which -had suffered many months after. With this in my mind, we stopped at a -shanty half-way up the hill, where we saw some bananas growing, tore -off part of a leaf, and asked for some water of a negress, who was one -of many watching the procession with great amusement. In fairly good -English she told me not to wet the head; in fact, by her vociferous -rejection of our plan, we were led to believe that it would be dangerous -to carry it out at all, so we threw away the leaf, and worked on up the -blistering highway to the top of the hill. - -There was not a bit of shade in sight. To right and left, rank weeds and -cacti grew in wild confusion, and with the exception of a few banana -groves, and the huts of negro labourers farther down, there was nothing -of a shade-producing nature along the road. The asphalt was so hot to -the feet that we broke company, and took to single file in among the -weeds on the edge of the road. - -As we approached the summit of the hill, a fine breeze gave us new -courage, and the sight of the Pitch Works, not far distant, dissolved -our fears of the heat into most absorbing interest of the great -phenomenon coming into view. An endless train of buckets, which led the -way up the long ascent, on a wire rope supported at short intervals by -large sheaves on iron pillars, went squeaking along, one row down to the -dock, full of great chunks of pitch, and the other back, empty, to be -filled and started on its round again. - - -III. - -I looked ahead as far as I could, and located our fellow voyagers, now -here, now there,--white dots on the strangest landscape I had ever seen. -I sat down on a barrel of pitch under the welcome shade of a rough shed -in the power-house, and had my first glimpse of the great lake. - -Why it has been called a "lake," I fail to discover; it was probably -named thus by the English. In that case, the matter is explained; it is -called a lake because it is not a lake at all. The Englishman never -seems to understand that the object to be named ought to bear some -slight relation to its appellative. He decides upon a name, and the -unfortunate victim has to fit himself, herself, itself, into its new -form as best he can. If this curious deposit had been called the "Pitch -Bed," there might have been some reason in the naming; some, possibly -not all, but some of the existing physical conditions would have been -suggested to the mind, and the traveller might thus have been able to -form an approximate idea of the phenomenon before seeing it. - -Instead of a lake, you see a vast, flat, fairly smooth, black surface of -pitch, with only here and there small pools of water,--in places, -yellowish; in places, clear,--intersecting the black surface in all -directions. Sometimes they enlarge, and, uniting, cover the surface -quite a distance, and in the centre several feet deep; and again the -intersecting, stream-like pools shrink to mere threads, but, as I said, -the general aspect of the Pitch Lake is a flat, solid, black surface, -covered occasionally with water, the water being only in the crevices -between great masses of pitch that have pushed up from beneath. - -[Illustration: ASPHALT FOR NORTHERN PAVEMENTS - -Pitch Lake, Trinidad] - -We were as yet unconvinced of its carrying qualities, and, not wishing -to run the risk of getting stuck in the pitch, we waited the approach of -one of the trains of little cable-cars, running from the works out on to -the lake, which we could see coming toward us. The brakeman is good -enough to stop, and we pile into the ridiculous little steel cars and -hang on as best we can, while we are sent flying down over a -narrow-gauge track, laid on top of the pitch, to the place where most of -the digging is going on. - -Here a great crew of black men--black as the pitch in which they -stand--with bare feet, all with picks, dig out the wonderful formation, -which breaks off in great brittle pieces. Seeing these men so fearlessly -defying the forces of nature, we gained confidence, and stepped out of -the buckets on to the surface of the so-called "lake;" and although our -feet would sink in a half-inch or so when we stood still, we found that -we could walk everywhere with perfect safety, with the exception of a -few places where the surface seemed to be in big bubbles and disposed to -crack and break away under us. - -It was remarkable to me that the pitch is both viscous and brittle at -the same time. When standing still, the water--thick and yellow, with a -sulphurous odour--would ooze up about the feet and form new rivulets, -which, uniting, would trickle into some near-by pool. There were -innumerable small, crater-like openings, some like air-bubbles in the -sea beach, others, deep, black holes, two and three feet in diameter, -but no appearance of heat or fire. All over the lake, small springs of -yellowish fluid were constantly bubbling up into the pools. The supply -of pitch is apparently inexhaustible, for, after a great trench has been -dug out along these temporary tracks, some four feet deep, and many rods -wide, by the next day the hole will again be so far filled that the -mining goes on as before. - -The manager told us that it had not been found necessary to change the -tram tracks for two years, that the level of the pitch fell only seven -inches last year, after immense amounts had been removed for shipment. - -The depth of this deposit is not known. It has been sounded a number of -times, but it seems to be impossible to find the bottom. I do not know -the exact dimensions of the lake, but, making a rough estimate, should -say that it is half a mile wide, and about a mile long; its extent is -said to be about one hundred and ten acres. The great asphalt deposit in -Venezuela, which has been the cause of so much recent trouble,--through, -I am sorry to say, the quarrels of two American companies,--is thought -by some to be shallower than the one of La Brea, although it is -apparently much larger, being in the neighbourhood of ten miles in -circumference. This Trinidad pitch is also worked by an American -company, under concession from the British Colonial Government. - - -IV. - -It seemed to me that I had never before seen such black pitch or blacker -"niggers." They were a good-humoured lot of men, making no complaint of -the heat, although they worked untiringly, bare-footed, in the hot, -oozing pitch. - -We stopped one fellow, about as black and tattered a figurehead as we -could find, and told him we wanted his picture. He was perfectly -delighted, and struck a very fetching attitude. After the button had -been pressed, we gave him a bit of silver, and then came a howl from a -dozen others for a similar opportunity, all posing for us as fancy -struck them. Seeing that we were obdurate, the fortunate holder of the -silver doubled up with a tremendous laugh, and I can yet see before me -his two rows of glistening white teeth and his wreck of a hat and his -rag of a shirt, and his bepatched breeches. His laugh so exasperated the -others, that one, an elderly gentleman who wore grand side whiskers, -shouted out in tones of deepest sarcasm: "Guess I'd git my picture took, -too, Sam, if I was such a orangoutang as you is!" It seemed as though -they would come to blows, but, had I known the good-humoured blacks -better, I should have had no fear, for their battles, fierce as they -seem, are only words, and usually end in a laugh. - -There are two kinds of pitch: one, pure pitch, dead black, was loaded in -the small cars, and the other, of a light brown colour, was carried off -in dump-carts, drawn by mules. This black pitch forms the basis of all -our asphalt pavements, and such a deposit must be worth millions to the -_concessionaires_. - -Now, when did this mighty process begin, and what internal force is at -work producing this continual outpouring upon the earth's surface? - -[Illustration: LOADING CARS - -Pitch Lake, Trinidad] - -At the farther end of the lake, women and young girls were busy -gathering pieces of wood which were thrown up out of the pitch. I do -not claim to understand this marvellous phenomenon. I would rather put -the question to those of you who have access to the wisdom of libraries, -and give you the privilege of bringing some light upon these strange -manifestations of God's unknowable. As I understand it, pitch is -obtained from tar, boiled down, and tar is a black, viscous liquid -obtained by the distillation of wood and coal, so this residuum which we -see is the third step in one of Nature's great caldrons; a process -millions of years in forming, a process still in operation. - -Is this wood which is continually coming to the surface of the lake an -unused part of that vast primeval forest which was when time did not -exist; when chaos was revolving into form? How long has it been -wandering, and what force is it which sends it thus unharmed, save for -the loss of bark, out again into the light? - -Some very strange implements and tools, recognised as South American -workmanship of a remote day, have come to the surface of this lake, and -one theory for their appearance is, that they have been drawn under the -Gulf of Paria, and up through the lake of La Brea by some unseen, but -mighty power from the lake of pitch in Venezuela, of which this is -supposed by some to be the outlet. - -The wood, gathered by the women, is not petrified, but merely -impregnated with the pitch, and has all its original qualities as when -it first left the parent stem, with, however, the additional affinity -for fire which its pitchy bath would naturally give. - -We were much entertained by the women and children, who stood knee-deep -in the fresh pools at the further end of the lake, doing the washing. -The clothes were laid out on the pitch to dry, and the naked babies -rolled around on the black stuff quite as much at home as our babies are -on the clean nursery floor. The women had on but very little clothing, -or none,--and some of the girls and boys, fourteen and fifteen years of -age, were entirely nude. One young girl, as we approached, modestly hung -a little fluttering rag about her loins, and, thus clothed, was not -ashamed. - -[Illustration: A NATIVE WASHERWOMAN ON THE PITCH LAKE - -Trinidad] - -I have seen more immodesty on the floor of a modern ballroom than ever -from the bare bodies of these black women. But terrible as the -stories are which one hears of the immorality of the West Indies, I feel -that here the evil is less heinous in the coloured races on account of -the primitive nature and conditions of a half-savage people. -Unfortunately this great and degenerating danger to the white -inhabitants is ever present. The pitch lake foreshadows the terrible -conditions of the people in Trinidad and Jamaica; the continual welling -up of this black mass suggests the doom which awaits these beautiful -islands, unless a giant hand is put forth to save them. - -The difficulties of this excursion have been much exaggerated. To be -sure, we had a long walk, but we also had a good breeze most of the way, -and our fellow traveller who, in spite of all warnings, had worn his -immaculate white suit, came off without spot or blemish, notwithstanding -the old proverb about "keeping away from the pitch." - - -V. - -Hot and tired, I left the party, who wished to make the entire circuit, -and took my way over the yielding pitch, over the sulphurous yellow -puddles, until I finally came to the grateful shade of the power-house. -A rickety old carryall looked very inviting, and in no time I had -ensconced myself therein, and leaned back in full anticipatory enjoyment -of a restful quarter of an hour. - -As I sat there, looking out over the distant sea,--for I was on the brow -of a hill,--gradually the unsightly power-house, the pitch cars, the -little huts where bananas were sold, the native shanties, the long, -narrow bridge, even the rim of the canopy above my head, seemed to fade -away into nothing. The ships at anchor had slipped their cables and were -gone; the iron pier, with its busy life, had disappeared; all had -changed, vanished. It was silent, ghostly. - -Then, out of nothing, out of dimness, there came a moving, a forming, a -changing, and I became conscious that I was no longer alone, but that a -company, great and illustrious, was assembling by ship-loads upon the -beach of La Brea; and that, without word or confusion, five ancient, -lofty-sterned, lumbering craft, and a quaint little caravel, lay bow-on -to the strand, while one was already being careened on her side in the -shoal water of the beach by cumbersome tackle fast to her thick -mastheads. Their huge, clumsy hulks were gray with time; their gaping -seams told of hot, blistering suns, and upon their decks there lay an -array of guns and armament, crudely ancient and unwieldy. Silent men -were noiselessly moving about at the command of one most beautiful to -behold, in scarlet cloak, and silken hose and doublet of rare elegance, -with hat beplumed, and glittering sword, who walked amongst the company -as a king. - -To and from the ship there moved a ghostly procession of grimy sailors, -carrying pitch to the beach, where fires were burning, and the venerable -three-deckers were being daubed with the smoking fluid, and made ready -for the high seas. - -It was a merry company, in truth, of lords and gentlemen, and scholars, -too, who came upon my vision, and wonderingly my eyes followed the -gallant leader. It seemed to me that I could all but catch his words. He -spoke with a poet's grace, so full of charm and so deliberate, so -courtly was his address. His face once turned, I knew him to be -English. His fair skin was burned by deep-sea voyaging; his pointed -beard just touched the lace of a deep, white ruff, and over his shoulder -hung a plume, white and curling. In all my life, I had never seen so gay -a gentleman, and I could not get my fill of looking and of wondering. - -Could it be that this great company were the revivified followers of the -dauntless Sir Walter Raleigh, searching, centuries ago, for _El Dorado_? -And it came to me, in that curious mixing of past and present, of which -dreams are made, "Does Sir Walter, with all his wisdom, suspect that -here, where he pitches his ships, is to be the great gold mine--some -later man's _El Dorado_--while he eagerly sails away in futile quest of -golden sands that are always just beyond his reach?" - -I lifted myself to strain my farthest sight, when lo! all was gone; -galleons, gentlemen, scholars, sailors, even the little caravel--all! -The sun was beating down upon the black road, the air was blistering; -negroes were weighing the buckets of pitch, and the machinery clanked, -with deafening indifference, through the quivering air; and up from -behind a clump of bushes a red bow, atop of a well-known white hat, -chased away the phantoms of long ago. I took off my dark glasses, rubbed -my eyes, and, half-dazed, stepped from my enchanted carryall. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE SPANISH MAIN - - -I. - -Steaming out of the Gulf of Paria the day before, away from the muddy -water of the Orinoco, we had come again through the Dragon's Mouth, -close to that long, eastward-pointing finger of South America that forms -one side of this famous gateway, back into the welcome Caribbean Sea. -Thence through the night we skirted the South American coast, passing -the celebrated pearl-fishing island of Margarita--"The Pearl"--where it -was said that a German gunboat with covetous eye had these many months -been making careful surveys and taking elaborate soundings--so -forehanded, you know! And now we were at anchor in the roadstead of La -Guayra, the seaport of Caracas. - -[Illustration: WHERE THE MOUNTAINS MEET THE SEA - -La Guayra, Venezuela] - -Leaning over the rail of the white ship, early in the dawning of that -day, it came to me over and over again that we were at last in the -presence of the great West Indian Mother, and that her face was in truth -an exact realisation of our imaginings. - -A strong breeze blew the waves fast and loose, one upon another, to the -near-lying shore, where a white line of surf circled about a rounding -promontory, and lost itself on the other side of the cliff. Up and -beyond, rose the mountains, and some one said: "The Andes!" and we -looked again, and longer, and said to ourselves--"The Andes,--South -America, we are looking upon them with actual eyes!" - -Up, and still up, rose the mountains; great, tender lines of undulating -softness, all green and blue and gentle and grand, one sweep upon -another of matchless warm tints; one sweep upon another of voluptuous -curves in billowy green, and dropping in and about the contour of the -great continent's majestic form, far disappearing valleys swept into the -dimness of soft, shadowy depths. - -Like a great mother, asleep, spread with a coverlet of the changing -tints of malachite and beryl, South America lay before us. - -Clambering up her skirts were the little white roofs of La Guayra, spots -on her verdant garment,--irregular spots here, there, and everywhere; -now in patches, comfortably huddling together at her feet; now stray -offshoots away beyond. All very square and very Spanish were these -houses, very quaint to look upon; and if this is La Guayra, where is -Caracas? Must we, too, clamber and climb away into those mountain -heights, and, perchance, awaken the Great Mother, who sleeps so gently -under the drowsy lullings of the deep sea? - - -II. - -Things are moving on the shore, and in the distance dots like men and -women stir about the tiny houses, and a toy train toots, and toy engines -rattle, and toy cars seem filling with toy people; and we think it time -to go ashore and see if we can find a seat in one of those cars; so we -run up forward, where our impatient fellow voyagers have been hurrying -into the launch this long time. It has just puffed away, and we are -really glad. - -There is something very like the "stray sheep" in our make-up. It is -Americanism boiled down,--this love of going alone, and being -self-reliant. - -A beamy shore-boat is engaged at one _bolivar_ apiece (negotiations -having been started on a basis of five _bolivars_ apiece, charged by the -boatmen), and we have plenty of room for all, even the Doctor, who is -going with us (for he was just too late for the launch--perhaps, with -malice aforethought); and so we row to the stone steps of the quay of La -Guayra, the port of Caracas, our first landing on the "Spanish Main." - -We have left the land of what we supposed to be our mother tongue, and -are come to a country where we can really be understood, or -misunderstood, according to our abilities to express ourselves, in a -language more constant than English. I take a mental stock, and find -four Spanish phrases which did not fail me in Santo Domingo, and shall -not fail me here. Besides I have been practising them since then! With -these I can fare sumptuously: - -_?Cuanto cuesta?_ (How much does it cost?) - -_?Que hora es?_ (What o'clock is it?) - -_iMucho bonito!_ (Very beautiful!) - -_Yo no entiendo._ (I do not understand.) - -This, with a few nouns sprinkled in, was my vocabulary; but I had no -fears,--had we not our own interpreter? - -And the big, strong oars brought us to the landing. Then we girls, in -charge of the Doctor, were stood up in the shade of a warehouse, where -we watched the white uniformed South Americans, struggling with our -obdurate men for their landing charges--for here they charge for the -right to land. Then the men disappeared with the bags, and we waited -what seemed to us a very long time, until, with one consent, we just -thought we wouldn't stay put another minute; so the Doctor takes the -lead with his big white Indian helmet jammed over his eyes, and Little -Blue Ribbons and Sister raise a fine cloud of dust, running on ahead. -But we older ones know what it means to be in La Guayra, so we follow on -very leisurely. On the way, we meet an excited messenger already sent to -hurry us to the train. - -La Guayra is said to be the hottest place about the West Indies, and I -could well imagine how the Great Mother would have to fan her little -white children, when they once really felt the breath of the -unconscionable sun; but, as we walked along, even though the sun had -climbed a few steady hours, we found it far from uncomfortable, even -carrying our heavy satchels, and the white umbrella, besides. - -Along a dusty and sun-stricken water-front, disfigured with railroad -tracks, and low warehouses, we came to the station, where the men, -triumphant, were impatiently waiting, after sending out their belated -relief expedition. Tickets had been bought, gold pieces divided up into -fascinating silver pieces, called _bolivars_ (in honour of the great -South American liberator--accent on the second syllable, if you please), -and all in our lord and master's own Spanish, of which we were justly -proud; and then we find places in the train, and in a few moments after -our arrival we jerk out among the white houses. - -It was a clever bit of forethought--that move of ours to hunt up the -men. Had we not done so, we could never have caught the early morning -train, for the messenger was slow, and we would have become merely a -part of the hot and dependent crowd on the later "special." It's better -sometimes _not_ to stay where you're put. - -We move along at a good pace among the gardens of La Guayra,--rather -sparse gardens they are,--and then we climb to the balconies, and then a -turn and we are hiding about the Great Mother's green petticoats; and -anon we pass up to the roofs of La Guayra,--which reach out like a white -sombrero over the little people below. - -Then the pull begins. Two powerful, stocky, low-built, narrow-gauge -mountain engines haul us along with apparently no effort, up into the -mountains, up a grade which seems to grow steeper every minute. Our men -say that the average grade is over four per cent. I can't see how it is -that men know all these things about grades and percentages. It seems -like such a lot of plunder to lie around in the brain. But--about such -trifles--men must know and women must ask, and that's all there is to -it. - -It is a continuous twisting and turning and winding, seldom on a level -stretch; it's up, up away from the sea from the very start. Now, we are -far above the tree-tops of the town, and our white ship out in the -harbour lies motionless, and seems far away. We wonder at the courage -of the people who would dare so great a feat of road-building, and grow -doubly curious to see the city, hidden beyond in the clouds of the -mountain. - - -III. - -La Guayra lies just above sea-level. In two hours, we must climb over -the Great Mother's back, going thirty odd miles to reach Caracas, which -lies at an elevation over three thousand feet in a valley, only six -miles in an air line from La Guayra. - -Up, up into the thin vapours, into regions of other trees still higher, -whose tops again we pass amongst. The sun is hazy through a translucent -veil of mist, and far away, the white horses of the sea dance up against -the shore and out of sight, and the white sombrero drops beneath an -emerald cloak, and everything but the sky is shut out. - -We jump first to one side of the car and then to the other, for the -sea-view and for the mountains. We are whirled around quick curves, and -all but lose our feet; and some of us--even men--get dizzy looking at -the drop below us; and then we cut through the mountain and hurry on up -the steep climb until the plucky little engine decides to stop, and we -are told that we have reached the summit; and we hurry from the cars and -feel the sweet coolness of the mountains, and the actual presence of the -Great Mother. - -We stand close together on the brink of a chasm and look tremulously -into the depths of her great heart; down, down, a thousand feet and more -of living, breathing green, into every hue of purple and blue, deepening -into black near the far-off valley, and disappearing into azure among -the clouds,--silence, shadow, tenderness, sublimity, overspread by the -ineffable loveliness of morning. - -We are moving again, and now it is down, gradually, for Caracas lies a -thousand feet below the summit. We follow along a white highroad, the -mountain trail from Caracas to the sea. Now we are on its level; now we -leave it. Long trains of pack-mules make a cloud of gray dust against -the green, and here and there a red blanket thrown across a burro's back -brings a delicious bit of life and colour into the passing scene. - -[Illustration: CARACAS AND THE MOUNTAINS - -Venezuela] - -Now we seem to be on the level, and scurry along at a great rate; and -soon there spring up out of the brown earth _adobe_ houses (the first we -have seen since we were in Mexico), and here are more and yet more, and -there, ah! that must be Caracas, the great Venezuelan capital, the -habitation of over one hundred and fifty thousand people! - -But, shall we say it? Must we be honest at the expense of all else? The -approach to Caracas is a disappointment. There is scarcely any kind of a -habitation which gives a landscape quite such a distressful look as the -_adobe_ hut. Built of sun-dried mud blocks, it gives off an atmosphere -of dust with every whiff of wind. It comes to our mind always with the -thought of dry barrenness, heat, sun, dust, shadeless fields of maguey, -prickly _nopals_, broad sombreros, and leather-clothed _rancheros_. And -to see the suburbs of a great city, the outlying habitations, in gray, -crumbling _adobe_, makes an unpleasant impression, in spite of the fact -that, from the distance, we catch a quick glimpse of a peaceful -campanile and high, imposing roofs a bit beyond. There's only time for a -suggestion, but that suggestion biassed all our later impressions. We -steam into the station and begin to pick up our traps and make for the -carriages. - - -IV. - -As we said before, the spirit of independence gained supremacy, when we -were once fairly upon the Spanish Main. Out of many, a few of us escaped -the tourist agent. A courier had been sent from New York, and at every -port we had the privilege of availing ourselves of his guides, -carriages, meal tickets, _et cetera_, if we wished to do so; and for -some it was certainly a great advantage, for, unless one knows some -French and Spanish, one is at the mercy of every shark that swims, and -these waters are full of them, as are all others for that matter. - -We found the prices very high everywhere, with few exceptions; equally -high for poor accommodations as for the better, the reasons whereof, for -the present, must be left unexplained. Suffice it to say, that the -American is his own worst enemy. Nine-tenths of our party thought it -would be unwise to go through South America from La Guayra to Puerto -Cabello on their own responsibility; so our little group were the only -ones to experience the joy and excitement of an independent tour through -a strange country, where English--good, honest, live English--is a rare -commodity. - -The Doctor, and Mr. and Mrs. M---- from Boston, and Daddy were keen for -the experience. I was afraid we might be left away down in South -America, with no train to carry us on from Caracas, for "the personally -conducted" were to have a "special," but my fears were finally allayed -by constant assurances of safety; so independence carried the day. - -Once inside the Caracas station, Daddy disappears, and, after a bit, we -see him beckoning to us from in among a crowd of vehicles, all very -comfortable and well-appointed, and we sidle along among the noisy South -American cabbies, and jump into the selected carriage. - -Now, what was said to the cabby, I'll never know; but we were no sooner -in that carriage than the horses started on a dead run, rattlety-bang, -whackety-whack, jigglety-jagglety, over stones and ruts, through the -city of Caracas. Up the hill we tore, and all I could see from under -the low, buggy-like canopy was the bottom of things sailing by in a -cloud of dust. Every now and then we struck a street-car track on the -wrong angle, and off we would slew, still on the run, with one wheel in -the track and the other anywhere but in the right place, for half a -block or so, and then no sooner well under way again, than we would all -but smash to pieces some peaceful cab, jogging toward us from the -opposite direction. A train of donkeys, coming from the market, on the -way home to the mountains with empty baskets, narrowly escapes sudden -death at our furious onslaught; and I can yet hear their little feet -pattering off and the tinkle of the leader's bell, as his picturesque -little nose just misses our big clumsy wheel. In a jumble we see the -small feet of the passers-by, and so we jerk along until all at once we -stop with a bump at the _Gran Hotel de Caracas_. - -There we wait in the garden while our recklessly independent men seek -lodgings. None to be had! Off we gallop toward another inn, catch -glimpses of a square, stop again, wait in the carriage, and find the -standing still very delightful. In a few minutes, our bold leaders -return with the look we know so well,--jubilant and hopeful. Beautiful -rooms, fine air, clean beds, sumptuous parlours, and all that,--you know -how it reads. - -We enter the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. - - -V. - -May I be forgiven if I leave the path of calm discretion for once, or -how would it do to leave out the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ altogether, -and turn the page to where the mountains begin? But, you see, if we -leave out the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_, we should have to leave out -Caracas, and that would never do at all. - -There was one member of our party who never sat down to a meal that he -did not declare it was the finest he had ever eaten in his life. This -faculty of taking things as they come, conforming gracefully to the -customs of a country, is, perhaps,--next to unselfishness,--the most -enviable trait in the traveller. Well might it be applied, as we begin -the search for our rooms in the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. We climb a -wide, winding, dirty stairway, pass through the sumptuously dusty -parlour, up another flight of the same kind, only narrower and dustier -and darker. An English housekeeper leads the way, and some one exclaims -(Oh, the blessed charity of that soul!): "How pleasant to find a neat -English woman in charge of the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_!" - -It has never been clear to me just what state of mind could have -inspired that remark; whether it was a momentary blindness, occasioned -by the mad drive, or a kind of temporary delirium, from the sudden -consciousness of power over perplexing foreign relations; or whether it -was merely the natural outburst of an angelic disposition, I could never -quite make out. But those are the identical words he used: "How pleasant -to find a neat English woman at the head of affairs in the _Gran Hotel -de Venezuela_." - -The "neat English woman" had dull, reddish, grayish hair, stringing in -thin, stray locks from a lopsided, dusty knot on the top of her head. -She had freckles, and teeth that clicked when she smiled. A -time-bedraggled calico gown swung around her lean bones, and at her side -she carried a bunch of keys, one of which she slipped up to the top into -a wobblety door, and ushered us into our "apartments." - -The "neat English housekeeper" fitted into that room to a dot. It was -gray, and red, and wobblety, and she was gray, and red, and wobblety. - -If it hadn't been for the everything outside, away beyond the balcony -(for, thank Heaven, no Spanish house is complete without one!), no -amount of philosophy could have atoned for that room. It was simply -white with the accumulated dust of no one knew how long. Our shoes made -tracks on the floor, and our satchels made clean spots on the bureau. -Two slab-sided, lumpy beds suggested troubled dreams. Two thin, -threadbare little towels lay on the rickety, dusty wash-stand, and an -old cracked pitcher held the stuff we must call water. A thin partition -of matched boards dividing ours from the next "apartments," rattled as -we deposited our things in various places which looked a little cleaner -than the places which were not so clean. - -Had it not been for the balcony, we could never have endured it; though -we had put up in queer places before. We had not even the satisfaction -of leaning on the balcony rail; it was too dusty. But we could stand, -and we did stand, looking out over and beyond the picturesque buildings, -to the everlasting hills, to the Andes, their lofty summits encircling -us like an emerald girdle, with calm La Silla thousands of feet above -all. - -Below us lay the city and the Square of Bolivar, with the bronze statue -of the great Liberator in the centre, in the midst of a phalanx of -palms, rising above the dust and the glaring white walk. - - -VI. - -To the left, the Cathedral, one compensation at least for all the rest. -What combination of characteristics is it that makes the Spaniard such a -marvellous builder, and, at the same time, such a wretched maintainer? -He builds a Cathedral to be a joy for all time; its lines fall into -beauty as naturally as the bird's flight toward its nest. Whatever he -builds, he builds for posterity; simply, beautifully, gracefully. Even -his straight rows of hemmed-in city houses have a touch of beauty about -them somewhere; and in the Cathedral, his true artistic sense finds -full expression. Close at hand the noble Campanile, swung with ancient -bells, watches in serene dignity and beauty the moving, streaming life -below. Sweet lines, harmonious to the eye, lift the Cathedral from the -hideous dirt and unkempt streets; from the whirling dust and circling -buzzards, to a sphere of forgetfulness, where beauty struggles for the -supremacy she holds with royal hand so long as we continue to gaze -upward. - -[Illustration: EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR - -Caracas, Venezuela] - -But once let our eyes leave the mountains and the Tower, and it all -changes into that other picture, the other side of the life of that -curious compound of traits, the Spaniard. For here, South American as he -calls himself, down deep in his heart he is ever the Spaniard, and -although he has claimed his independence of the mother country these -many years, through the heroic victories of Bolivar and his brave -associates, his characteristics are Spanish, his arts are Spanish, his -life is Spanish; his glorious Cathedral is Spanish, and his horrible -streets are Spanish; his magnificent statue of Bolivar is Spanish, and -the dowdy, dusty garden about it is Spanish. Was he ever intended to be -a householder? Should not his portion be to beautify the earth by his -artistic intuition, and let the rest of us, who do not comprehend the A -B C of his art, be the cleaners and the menders? Is not this a people -left like children to build up the semblance of a government from the -wrong stuff? Will not the world in time come to see that one race cannot -be all things; that some must be artists, and some mechanics; that some -must be leaders, and others followers; that some will be the builders of -beauty, to last for all time, and others must be the guardians of -health, the makers of strong, clean men? - - -VII. - -Why is it that the President's house,--the great yellow house across the -square, shown us by the Minister of War himself to-day,--one of the -homes of Cipriano Castro, the present Dictator, is nothing more or less -than an arsenal, packed to the full with cartridges, muskets, and -rapid-firing guns, and alive with armed troops? How is it that Castro is -said to have laid by a million dollars out of a twelve thousand dollars -a year salary? Why is it that our going into Venezuela was considered by -some unsafe? Why did we shake every bone in our bodies over the upturned -streets and boulders of Caracas? Because the Venezuelan is trying to do -that for which he is not fitted; in which, during all these long years -of constant revolution, he has failed. He, past-master in certain of his -arts, has taught the world his colours and his lights and shades; he has -given to earth notable tokens of his skill in building; but in -house-cleaning--municipal or national--he is out of his element, and -should no more be expected to excel in that line than a babe in arms -should be expected to know the Greek grammar. - -Like all Spaniards he is mediaeval in his instincts; he cannot really -govern himself as part of a republic. - -The city of Caracas exemplifies this statement. It is in a horrible -state of dirt and disproportion. Its people are kind and courteous, but -its streets are a nightmare; and over all hovers the strong hand of -military despotism. - - -VIII. - -After dinner our first expedition was to call upon the United States -Minister L---- and his wife, who were occupying the former residence of -Count De Toro, some miles out of the city. And what a drive! - -To move comfortably in Caracas, you must either take the donkey -tramway--which never goes where you want to go--or you must walk. But to -walk a half-dozen miles in the hot sun, on a dusty, stony road, is not -particularly inviting, so, with our respects to the sun, we decide to -drive, and all the way out we wonder why we ever did. And yet, had we -walked, I suppose we would have wondered why we hadn't taken a cab. - -As it was, the dust blew about us from the rolling, bumping wheels in -great clouds, and the big stones in the road sent us careening about -from one side of the carriage to the other. Again we think of Mexico--of -the dust, the parched earth, the _arroyos_, and the saving mountains -beyond. We pass a dried-up river-bed, where women are washing in a faint -trickle of water, and then we wind about the hill and climb up the rocky -way, enter a sort of wood, and come suddenly to the minister's house. - -[Illustration: AN INTERIOR COURT - -Caracas, Venezuela] - -Our nation's arms on the gateway make us feel at home, and we jingle the -bell and send in our cards and wait in the shady court. In a few -moments, Minister L---- appears, and with him Mrs. L----, who bids us -enter her cool, delicious drawing-room, very clean and sweet and -old-fashioned and quiet, though the house is truly Spanish, with wide, -airy rooms and curious pictured walls. The men went off up a flight of -stone steps through the garden to the office, to talk politics and the -"Venezuelan situation," I suppose; while we sat there with the -minister's wife, who told us much of her life and the customs of the -country, and, among other things, how difficult it is for a -foreigner--even a diplomat--to gain access to the real home-life of the -Spaniard; how the women live shut in, and see but little of the world, -only glimpses now and then, never knowing anything of our Northern -freedom. - - -IX. - -The drive back to the city was one continuous round of jolt and bump and -dust. We rattled down and up the streets which, despite their -narrowness and general dilapidation, could not be utterly devoid of -interest, if viewed from the eyes of the lover of wrought-iron handiwork -and graceful handlings of simple and strong elements in building. - -We were told that it was our duty to view the Municipal Palace, and dear -Sister, although I knew she was tired, did not want anything seeable -omitted; so we most willingly left the cabs at the palace door, with the -hope of never having the agony of that ride repeated. - -As the Spaniard builds his cathedral, so does he impart to each -important structure a fitting grace and dignity of style commensurate -with its office. The Municipal Palace is built about a great hollow -square or plaza, which is filled with palms and other similarly -beautiful vegetation. But, oh, dear! oh, dear! the dust! The great -reception-hall, or audience-chamber,--or whatever one might call -it,--was lined with stately gilt chairs and sofas, done up in linen -dusters. The effort of driving and seeing and jolting and being -agreeable had been such a strain that I just thumped down on one of the -wide sofas and spent my time looking about me, while the others -conscientiously made the _grande tour_ from one end of the great room to -the other. - -It is a large oval hall ornamented with some very fine historical -paintings. The Spanish Student had found an obliging officer--for -soldiers are everywhere--and I quietly left the two alone. I thought it -too cruel, after our long drive, to expect him to retranslate for my -benefit, but then there came a faint suspicion in my mind, from a -troubled expression on his face, when the guide launched into the deep -waters of Venezuelan history, with Bolivar rampant and the Spaniards -fleeing, that, possibly, it was not all clear sailing; that, possibly, -this was just the occasion for the last of my phrases. No, I watch the -face; it resumes once more its usual expression of serenity, and I sit -there and think how beautiful it might all be if it were only clean; if -Bolivar could only come back again and teach his children their -unlearned lesson of disinterested self-love of country and home. - -Bolivar appears to have been the only liberator (and each new -"President" who throws out the defeated party and instates himself is -called "liberator") who ever died poor, having spent not only public -funds for the betterment of arts and science and education, but -nine-tenths of his own personal patrimony as well. - -The guide closes the blinds, and our party comes together at the door, -leaving nice little clean spots where they have stood in groups on the -dusty, once highly polished floor, and we turn down the long, wide -balcony to an open door at the end. A brilliantly uniformed, handsome -lad bars admission, for Castro the Great is holding a cabinet meeting -there, and we can see the collar of a black alpaca coat and the back of -a very solemn-looking chair, and hear a low voice speaking,--and that -was all we saw of Castro. - -Some one proposes a drive; some one else suggests the shops, but we -decide to go home. That dear old word sounds lonesome away down here in -South America. Does it mean the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_? Was this the -home; or was it the wide, out-reaching mountains, fading into the deeps -of night; or the Cathedral, rising from the dread below in her sweet -chastity? - - -X. - -Tired bells jangle out the slowly passing time. An ancient carillon -sounds the quarter, an added clang the half, one note more for three -quarters. The long black arms reach to the hour, then another and -another passes, and night brings rest to the Great Mother. But the soft -gentle eyes are no sooner closed than all the children, the white -children at her feet, begin to stir and move, just as yours and mine do -when mother sleeps. - -The old church towers, with sweet grace, wrap about her stately form a -mantle of whitest silver, bordered with great lines of black, and away -above her head, up in God's garden, forget-me-nots and heartsease -blossom out into twinkling spots of starlit beauty. - -The moon rolls languidly on in the gentlest heaven that earth e'er -looked upon. - -Below, beneath God's garden, the white children brighten and awaken from -the drowsy languor of the long day. Lights flare out, doors open, and -streets fill with happy voices, and a white-frocked humanity empties -itself into the Plaza to hear yet again the great Military Band of -Caracas. - -There comes a hush, and then--it must be from the garden away off so -far--there drops a veil,--the veil of forgetfulness, in sounds of music -so inexpressibly tender and alluring as to catch the soul from earth -away up to where white angels gather the forget-me-nots and heartsease. -The crumbling city and its disordered sights, the dust and all -unpleasantness pass away beyond the veil, and all that remains is -covered with the witchery of music. - -To make it real, we, too, join the children and press in close, just as -our little ones do who fear not the expression of their emotions. We, -too, press in where the makers of this wonderful music, sixty of them, -stand in a great semicircle at the head of a flight of stone steps, and -then we listen to the old, eternally old stories of life and love and -joy and tragedy; listen, until our souls are filled to the utmost with -the deeps of life! - -An intermission comes; we take a deep breath; meanwhile he of the -Spanish vocabulary, made bold by enthusiasm, threaded his way to where -the leader of the band was nonchalantly smoking a cigarette, wishing to -congratulate him on the masterful work done by his musicians, and also -to thank him for having just played "The Star Spangled Banner," in -honour of the Americans present. - -Shrugging his shoulders, the bandmaster remarked that his men had almost -forgotten that American thing, as it was twelve years since last they -played it! Thus does the Venezuelan show his love for these United -States. But we forget that in the charm of the reawakened melody, for it -is the kind of music that speaks real things; that brings the great -forgetting of things visible; that brings the great remembering of -things eternal. Mellow notes, as from the throat of a blackbird, slip -through the liquid night as softly as the splash of feathered warblers -in the cool water brooks, and when the strong word is uttered, it comes -forth like the voice of a seer, unjarring, made strong through great -tenderness. - -Closer and closer we press to lose not the slightest note, and we -realise that it is the music which comes to our cold Northern senses but -once in a lifetime, and our ears plead for more and yet more. No strings -could ever have so mellowed themselves into the loveliness of that night -as did those liquid oboes, whose sylvan tones filtered through our -senses with ineffable sweetness. The wood and brass seemed to have been -tempered by long nights of tears and days of smiles, so ripened were -they into an expression of the soul of humanity. - -At last the Great Mother sleeps, her children are tired and go to rest, -and God's garden blossoms away, away off beyond in the far country. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS - - -I. - -The choice lay between a luncheon on board our vessel down in the hot -harbour of La Guayra, with President Cipriano Castro and his suite -invited as guests of honour by the German officers, or an added day in -Caracas; and then a glimpse of South America on our way by Valencia to -Puerto Cabello, where we would again take ship. The question was -well-discussed, _pro_ and _con_, and finally decided in favour of -Venezuela, the country _versus_ Castro, its dictator. After all, General -Castro was not so very different from the other Venezuelans all about -us, except in that great element, his personal success for the time -being; and then you know we did see his alpaca coat and the back of his -chair, and we heard his voice in the council-chamber,--at least we -thought we did,--and that really ought to be enough to satisfy any one. - -In a way, we did feel satisfied, and yet there was a lingering -inclination toward that luncheon. It might be that, for once, the great -man would look, act, appear just a little different from the every-day -sort. It was only a remnant of the everlasting hope for a perfect -adjustment of mind and body,--that futile phantasmagoria which would -make the great man great in all things. And to give up and leave Castro -in a common, every-day alpaca coat,--and only the back of it at -that,--when we might see him in gold lace and gorgeous uniform, well, it -was too bad; but then old common sense comes lumbering along and spoils -the whole thing, and tells us it's no use, no use at all, mourning over -the impossible; he's only a man, and a little man at that, and there are -plenty of fine men all over the world, and there's only one South -America; and so and so on, until the balance weighs so heavily against -the Castro faction that, when the time came to take the train for La -Guayra, we divided the party, sent the little girls back to the ship -with our friends, and turned ourselves loose upon the sunny streets of -Caracas. - - -II. - -We had no guide-book, no one told us what to do, no one seemed to know -what we ought to do; so, freed from all restraint, we had the delightful -sensation of unlimited liberty. - -It was Ash Wednesday and the church-bells rang incessantly. We took to -the left, passing the Cathedral, whose black shades enveloped one after -another of the faithful, and kept straight on, to where the women in -white frocks and lace mantillas, and the black serving-girls with -baskets, and the small boys, and trains of burros were streaming down in -the direction of the market. Most naturally we join the procession, now -in the street, with the cabs and carriers of all sorts of things, and -now jostling in among the people on the narrow sidewalk of the shady -side. - -We have no intention of telling about the flies and the smells and the -dirt. They were all there and can easily be pictured, and we really have -no intention of staying but a moment in the market, for we have seen so -many before; but once a part of the big throng of buyers and sellers; -once fairly free from the South Americans who insist upon speaking -English, once free to use our own laboriously acquired Spanish, we stay -on and on, buy and eat all sorts of curious fruit, until we fear for the -consequences, and are delightfully uncomfortable and happy. - -It was a surprise to find in Caracas a market which surpassed in -varieties and quantities any other place we had ever seen. - -Caracas, with its abortive palms, its dusty, dried-up appearance, gave -one the impression of unproductiveness; and the dinner of the night -before, with meat, meat, meat,--an exaggerated Trinidadian affair--led -us to expect anything but fresh, sweet, delectable fruits; but here they -were in masses! We had searched every port for pineapples, and these -were the first ones we had found which answered to our ideals formed -years ago by the pineapples of Amatlan and Southeastern Mexico. And such -dear little thin-skinned refreshing limes! I wonder why they are not -exported more freely in place of the big, thick-coated lemons? I suppose -the impression prevails that the American wants everything on a big -scale, so he gets the big lemon in place of the dainty aromatic lime. -There we found in great abundance all the fruits with which we had grown -familiar on the islands, but more surprising, the fruits of the -temperate regions as well. There were some queer kinds of melons, too. -We tried them, of course; we tried everything, buying here a slice of -pineapple for _dos centavos_, and over at another stall a _medio's_ -worth of mangoes; then we take up a piece of a curious fruit and examine -it rather suspiciously. Its meat is yellow and covered with little black -seeds, just the size and appearance of capers, and when one eats it, the -seed is the only element of flavour. It has so exactly the taste of -water-cress that one needs to use considerable will-power to believe it -is a melon, and not a salad. - -Here were grapes, both white and black, and sweet and sour lemons, and -all sizes of oranges. There were peaches and apricots, and curious -little apples, about the size of a small crab-apple; and delicious -little Alpine strawberries from away up in the Andes, and then there -were in every stall mangoes, and sapodillas, and granaditas, and -pineapples sweet as honey and luscious, and curious aguacotes and -zapotas and many unknown fruits--besides the ever-present cocoanut. - -And vegetables! I only wish we could tell you the names of all the -aromatic herbs and green stuffs spread out to tempt us. But there was -one thing we did recognise at first sight: the beans--nine different -varieties in one stall and maybe as many more in another--"_frijoles de -todas clases_," the market-woman announced for our encouragement. A -procession of bulging baskets crowds us along out of the market, and we -move on to make room for a stream of empty baskets coming from the -opposite direction. - - -III. - -We take a straightaway course down toward the ever-beautiful curves of a -massive old church, some blocks off, and on the way, with the wanderer's -prerogative, step into the open door of a fine modern building, -apparently a bank. The Spanish Student walks up to a grilled window in -the court to get an American gold piece changed into Venezuelan -bolivars and is at once invited to enter. The president and -vice-president of the bank were at conference in a finely appointed, -spacious office, and as we appeared, both greeted us most cordially and -addressed us in perfect English. The weather started the ball of -conversation rolling, and from that we chatted on about the voyage, and -the islands, and all sorts of things; and then the men launched into a -discussion of the political situation, and from that to the power -Germany was acquiring in a mercantile way in their country. And they -told us how the Germans came there with their families, and taught their -children from babyhood the language and customs of the South Americans, -at the same time holding firmly their grasp of the mother tongue and the -thrifty business methods of their home concerns. Thus given from infancy -this advantage of a thorough knowledge of the language and customs of -the country, they acquire a prestige with which no amount of ability in -a foreigner can compete should he be less ably equipped. How dangerous -to America is becoming this Teutonic power and prestige we do not -realise, for who can fathom the ambition and persistency of the Kaiser -and his subjects in South America--Germans all, though thousands of -miles from Berlin? - -I could but admire the facility and ease with which these South American -men of affairs expressed themselves in English, and I thought, how few -there were of us who could thus readily express ourselves in Spanish. It -came to me forcibly that the American who is truly far-sighted, is the -one who is acquiring, and having his children acquire, a good speaking -knowledge of Spanish; for the time is surely coming when our need of -Spanish will be far greater than to-day. The time is coming, if we guard -our interests aright, when these South Americans will look to the North -for a closer bond than now exists, and when that time does come, the man -most potent in the new relation will be he who can, by a knowledge of -the language, customs, and habits, place himself in perfect sympathy -with his South American brothers. And we must remember, too, that we are -dealing with men whose education is based upon the time-honoured culture -of an old world, men of attainment, of polish and policy, of strength -and power; however much that power may be at times misguided, there is -latent great force and adaptability. - -The South American is a man of marked and strong mental ability, and is -already--and for that matter has for years been--modelling his laws -after those of his more fortunate younger brother of the Northern -continent. It is not in proper law and forms of government that he -lacks, but in their proper enforcement, and back of all in the muzzling -of that healthy public interest that would demand their enforcement. -However much he fails in government, the time when his country will be -dispassionately ruled by fixed and just legislation is hoped for by such -men as the officers of this bank. For how can the country's business go -on amid the turmoil of ever-impending revolution? - -These West Indian Islands and South America, combined, have been used by -all nations who have profited by their marvellous productiveness merely -for what can be gotten out of them through one resource and another; -even North Americans themselves are not above reproach in their quarrels -over the Venezuelan Pitch Lake concessions, which was then a subject of -keen interest. But in spite of the fact that some Americans have been -feathering their nests from this foreign down, still I believe that our -people will eventually lead the world in true philanthropy,--the -philanthropy of development and honest business methods, and that ours -should be the hand that brings to the South American the solution of his -great difficulties; directed not to annexation of these Southern lands, -but to helping in the evolution of a stable, self-respecting independent -government. - -South America is waiting for the great hand, for the great liberator of -the land from the faults and follies of its own sons, and when he comes -he will find a country rich to overflowing in unrealised possibilities. -The curse of these countries seems to be in the love of the Spanish -American for political intrigue, which periodically bears fruit in the -bogus political "liberator," throbbing with meretricious and -self-seeking ambition which he bombastically labels "Patriotism." - -[Illustration: CATHEDRAL AND PLAZA - -Caracas, Venezuela - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -If you had stood face to face with two such well-poised types of -conservative South Americans as we met that morning, I feel sure that -you, too, might hope for a great future for this country, could it but -be represented and led by its best men. - - -IV. - -With courteous good wishes, we left the senors' pleasant company, and -went on, still in the direction of a church-tower. The shops were far -from interesting, much like others down in the islands, with the -exception of a chocolate-shop, which we found to be the sales office of -a factory where a great deal of prepared chocolate is made, for Caracas -is a great chocolate market. After we had filled our pockets with all we -could carry, of chocolate blocks and chocolate fishes and chocolate -dolls, we started on again, munching the chocolate as we went, until we -came at last to the Cathedral, which was in a state of mortar and lime -and scaffolding, due to having the cracks from last October's earthquake -doctored up in the same matter-of-fact way that we clean house in the -spring. - -Well, we were glad at last to have seen the inside of the Cathedral, for -even without the suggestion of a guide-book, we had in a sort of way -felt that we ought to do so; such a slave of "Ought" does the traveller -become, in spite of utmost precaution. - -By this time the sun was nearing noon, and we naturally turned in the -direction of the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ as the only available place -in which to rest; that is, I thought it was the only available place, -but the Spanish Student knew better. How he knew, or when he had -experimented, he would not say, nor could the truth be forced or dragged -from him, as he walked on toward the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_; but I -had a suspicion, from the decided click to his step, and a lurking joy -in his eye, that he had forsaken the Gran Hotel de Venezuela; that he -had discovered a new Arcadia, and, oh! it was so delightful to feel that -it was not the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. Then he stopped at a -lattice,--I am sure there wasn't a door in the house--at the lattice of -an enticing _Dulceria_, and we sat down where it was cool and quiet, and -I waited to see what would happen. _El propietorio_ appears. At once, at -the sight of the Spanish Student, the senor smiles, and disappears. They -had met before. The senor enters once more,--for we are not to be left -to an ordinary waiter,--this time with two tall glasses,--very tall, -thin glasses. - -If you could only have felt the fatigue of that moment! We had tramped -about three hours, under the high, white sun, with the drowsy spell of -noon creeping stealthily over the city, and even over the insatiable -tourist; if you could have been with us to have seen the two tall -glasses, filled to the brim, placed on the table by mine host himself, -you, too, would have concluded that it was no small matter to be thus -refreshed. It looked like lemonade, and yet it didn't, and it -tasted,--well there's no other explanation possible; it was bewitched. -Mine host had crossed his heart, looked twice over his right shoulder, -turned three times on his left toe, and then pronounced the spell. - -One taste convinced me that it took a lot of things to make that -lemonade,--a lot of things besides limes and water, and whatever that -lot of things was, it was the finest combination I had ever known. Mine -host pronounced it lemonade; so did the Spanish Student, though I heard -him suggest "_un poquito de Rom Imperial_" to the senor. With one taste, -all fatigue took wings, everything took wings. The bent-wood table -capered off with the bent-wood chair, and the long, fly-specked mirror -cavorted from side to side with the parrot-cage. Everything was lovely -and undulatory, and life was one long oblivion of the red-headed -housekeeper at the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_. - -He, the one opposite, leaned back and looked amused and satisfied, and -said: "There's more coming." - -"What, more lemonade?" - -"No, not more lemonade, but more of something else." - -And then it came. Again two tall glasses of a delicious rose-coloured -ice, made of fresh wild strawberries, gathered that morning among the -glistening dew of the Andes. In the centre of the ice, like the rakish -masts of a fairy's ship, two richly browned, delicate tubes of sweetened -pastry bore the ensign of our feast. - -They reminded me of the lamplighters we children used to make at a -penny a hundred, on winter evenings by the crackling coal fire. - -You remember? Or have you never had the fun? - -You take a bit of paper an inch wide and twelve inches long, wet your -finger, give a queer kind of twist to one corner and up it rolls, in a -long, neat shape. Double it over at the end, and there you are. -Sometimes it unwinds, and then it is exactly like the confectioner's -roll in Caracas, only white instead of a rich, luscious brown. - -From that moment on, all other attractions of Caracas, the University, -the _Casa Amarilla_, the Pantheon, palled in attraction before that -_Dulceria_. It became to us, and to every one we met, the loadstone of -Caracas. To taste of an ice made from berries picked among the valleys -of the Andes is no small matter, and to quaff a lemonade which, without -suspicion, could still fashion wings at least as lasting as those of -Icarus of old, is also no small matter, and may we not be forgiven and -no questions asked if we confess to more than one return to the -_Dulceria_ shop just across the Plaza in Caracas? - - -V. - -Four o'clock was the hour appointed for the coming together of our -diminished party, and until then the _Gran Hotel de Venezuela_ was -supposed to hold me in its ancient decrepitude, and it did hold me until -about three o'clock; when the bells set up such a clanging, and were so -zealous to get me up and out of bed and into their mid-afternoon -vespers, that I finally yielded to their summons, and, making a hasty -toilet, stole down the creaking stairs and out into the streets. - -No Northern city at midnight is more soundly asleep than the tropical -town in mid-afternoon. The heavy white blinds are down, the green -lattices closed tightly, awnings dropped close before the shop-doors; -while the cabby and his horse, on guard near the Plaza, doze in willing -slumber. The market is empty, the little donkeys are long since browsing -upon the green slopes of the foot-hills; the street criers are still, -the whole world seems dead asleep, and, as I slipped along toward the -Cathedral, the drowsy chanting of priests' voices was the only sound -which broke the quiescence of that delicious afternoon. For delicious -it was, in truth. All of God's part was in its perfectness. The air was -sweetly cool and refreshing, with a flavour of mountain ozone mingled -with the sunlight, and, as I came to a cross street, looking up the long -narrow, white reach to the foot-hills, it was with a bit of imagining, -like a glimpse through the tube of a huge kaleidoscope, with the green -and purple and blue and yellow mountains an ever-changing vista of -resplendent colour in the vanishing distance. - -The priests' voices called out again, and I entered the high-domed, -sweet place of worship. The chancel and altar were being repaired, so it -was in the oblong nave that the priests, white-robed, rich with lace and -embroidery, sat in ancient carved chairs, saying in responsive chants -the words decreed for Ash Wednesday. The priests were old, and some were -very feeble, and it seemed at times an effort for them to rise when the -service demanded. A number of young men, of lesser dignity, assisted, -and two little acolytes in red sat quite at the end of the row of -priests. Still the chanting goes on and on, and the voices are -monotonously sleepy, and long drifts of mellow, shaded light drop down -on the white robes, and one of the priests yawns, and the little acolyte -nods, and then goes fast asleep; and up overhead the lofty dome reechoes -the somnolent voices, and I hear the old bells telling me about four -o'clock, but they seem very indistinct and sleepy and uninterested. And -I feel sleepy and nod, and wonder if it's the priests' voices or the -bells that put everybody to sleep, and I forget all about four o'clock -until a workman way down near the altar, perched on a high ladder, -mending more cracks, knocks off a piece of plaster, and I start and look -around, then tiptoe out; while the bells tell me that the quarter-hour -is gone with the rest of the day. - - -VI. - -Caracas is responsible for a decided turning about from some of my -former estimates of the Spanish character. It is not necessary to say -just exactly what these preconceived opinions were, but they were there, -and as I supposed, a fixture. In the children's neighbourhood brawls, I -have noticed frequently that, whenever vengeance was to be meted upon -some offending head, he was called by one and all, "a Spaniard." That -was enough to arouse all the wrath of his youthful spirit into -rebellion, and until the word was recalled, war reigned. This of course -is largely since our late trouble with Spain. I shall not say that the -use of the word exactly represented my state of mind toward the South -Americans, but, in spite of the many pleasant experiences of years gone -by in Mexico, I shall confess to a somewhat allied feeling with regard -to that name, and to all people who are in any way affiliated with the -race, and I dare say that something of this same prejudice has existed -among our people at large for some time, and not altogether without -cause. - -To have that impression partially removed was one of the results of an -evening spent at the opera in Caracas, where General Cipriano Castro had -arranged an especially fine performance to be given in honour of the -North Americans then visiting his republic. The opera-house was -decorated in our nation's colours, intertwined with the yellow, red, and -blue of Venezuela, and every seat not taken by our party was occupied by -the representative citizens of Caracas. The performance--a light, comic -opera--was of excellent standard, and passed off with great applause. -Much as we enjoyed the music, the Venezuelans themselves were our -greatest object of interest. - -The house was apportioned in the usual foreign style, with two tiers of -boxes circling on either side from the President's box in the rear -centre. The women, as usual, occupied the front seats in the boxes, and -were thus in a position to be seen and observed very closely. And -never--I make no exception, no exception whatever--have I seen such -modest, womanly appearing women as were present at the opera that night. -They did not giggle nor stare nor flirt. They were richly, beautifully, -becomingly gowned, but, although arrayed with a desire to please, they -were as modest and unassuming as a lot of little girls at a doll's -tea-party. Their eyes no sooner met yours than they dropped,--not -affectedly, but naturally, naively,--and it was impossible to refrain -from forming an opinion of the conditions of society from the faces and -actions of these women. - -Women make society what it is; they make it right, high, true, and -pure; they make it wrong, low, false, and vile, and the general -appearance and actions of the women of a country, studied by an observer -of human nature, will tell more truthfully the moral condition of a -people than any book ever written. - -Whatever faults the Spaniard may have bequeathed to his descendants; -whatever his failings in government and kindred problems, the women, -these beautiful women of Caracas, made us feel that they had set for -themselves high standards of morality; that the social life was away -beyond the level we had expected; that the family--the wife--is a sacred -trust given the man to protect in honour and virtue so long as he lives. - -There is, no doubt, much to be said against the rigid life of seclusion -led by the Spanish women, but there is this to be said in its favour: it -has created a race of men who honour and respect their homes, a race of -men whose attitude toward women is universally respectful and -deferential. With all our stiff-necked New England self-sufficiency, we -have yet much to learn, we women of the North, and let it not be beneath -our dignity to remember that the South American women have some lessons -learned which we have yet to master; and perhaps there are none who -could teach us more gently or more effectively than the modest, womanly -women of Caracas. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -IN VENEZUELA. CARACAS TO PUERTO CABELLO - - -I. - -And now we are at the railway station, headed for Valencia and Puerto -Cabello, still determined to continue unguided back to the coast. - -There was to me something so extraordinary in the thought that, for -once, we were really to get ahead of the professional guides, that it -required repeated and oft repeated assurances to at least one of the -women of our circle from the kindly official at the railway station, to -relieve all doubts as to the wisdom of our plans. Of course, the men of -our party had no doubts, at least, none were expressed; and yet some of -us, particularly the writer, could hardly believe that the train we were -to take would carry us on through Valencia, past the lovely Lake of -Valencia down to Puerto Cabello, a half-hour in advance of the Special -Train with the Special Courier; that we would be a half-hour earlier at -luncheon in the mountains, and a half an hour earlier that evening in -reaching Puerto Cabello; and this latter would be no small consideration -after a long, hot ride from mountain-top to sandy beach. - -But this was to be the case, so the official informed us, not only in -Spanish, but in French, and very perfect French, too--for not -understanding Spanish, we women of course had to hear it all over again -in French; so we left the party, and boarded the regular morning train -for Valencia, amidst the warnings of many, the doubts of all the timid -ones, and the envy of a few jollier spirits. What would become of us, if -this train should make up its mind not to go through to Puerto Cabello, -and drop us at La Victoria, or San Joaquin perhaps; and what if the -much-lauded Special should after all fly on and leave us in the -mountains, high and dry, a half-day's journey to Puerto Cabello, with no -means of reaching the ship on sailing-time; and what if our pretty boat -should sail away to God's country, and leave us literally stranded, -marooned for weeks, on the sun-blighted beach of Puerto Cabello, -waiting for a ship? - -[Illustration: A HOUSE BESIDE THE SEA - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela] - -A thousand "ifs" are flung at us, but there stands the big, handsome -South American railway official, with a rose in his buttonhole, patent -leathers on his feet, and a smile on his face, and visible support in -every attitude of his fine body; so we settle down, reassured, and look -around to count heads, and we check off--all but one, the Doctor,--he is -not at the station. Where is he? Where is the Doctor? He has sworn to -stand by us to the end; in fact had been one of the prime movers in this -venture, and here we are ready to start, even the men are aboard the -funny little train, and the Doctor not in sight. - -Ten anxious heads lean out from ten abbreviated windows; ten distressed -voices ask in all available tongues, "Where is the Doctor?" We ask the -official--the one with the rose--if he has seen one called the Doctor, -with bland, smiling face, round and jovial; blue eyes, light hair, -walking with a confident, easy swing, wearing a linen suit and East -Indian pith helmet. No one answering that description had come to the -station. Fully half an hour before we left the _Gran Hotel de -Venezuela_, the Doctor had taken a cab, so that there should be no doubt -or question as to his being on time; for the Doctor was an orderly man, -of decided opinions and exact habits. He was never known to be late at -an appointment. He had with him the free untrammelled air of the -unmarried man. He had neither wife to detain, nor sweetheart to beguile -him. He was a free-lance, and yet here it was, a moment before the time -for departure, and the Doctor nowhere to be seen. - -The train shivers, quivers, gives a bump or so, squeaks out a funny -foreign whistle, and we are moving out of Caracas. Ten of us instead of -eleven. Ten much troubled wanderers, thinking and wondering a very great -deal. We pass the curious little chapel upon the hill, with its five -disjointed little steeples, looking as if one more quake of the grand -old Mother would topple them all over for good; pass the low _adobe_ -huts on the outskirts of the city, and then catch a last glimpse of the -Cathedral and its dear old bells, and the trees about the Square of -Bolivar; and are almost into the rich country, outlaying the great -city. But where is the Doctor! Had he been beguiled or waylaid, or had -he waited for one too many a sip of the unforgettable lemonade; or had -he gone to sleep with the priests under the magic of the old bells? - -No, nothing seemed to fit in just right. The Doctor had reached years of -discretion, he knew the wiles of women, and, as for being waylaid, that -was hardly possible, for he always carried his chest high; and, as for -the priests,--no, it was not the priests, for the Doctor had paid his -respect to the Cathedral the day before. Hadn't we seen his white hat -disappear under the big, open doorway as we were on the way to market? -But the lemonade,--there was the hitch; he might have longed for one -more glimpse of the _Dulceria_, and the tall glass and the indescribable -nectar,--_con un poquito de Rom Imperial_,--yes, he might have done so, -any normal being might have done so, and that must be the whole trouble; -then, just as we had decided on the lemonade, we stop at Palo-Grande, -out in the gardens beyond the town, and into the car rushed a red-faced, -very mad American, with satchels and luggage and souvenirs in his hands, -and rage upon his face,--the Doctor; none more--none less,--the lost -wanderer! - -If any one was ever welcome, he was. We figuratively threw our arms -about him, and wept with joy at the return of our long-lost brother. The -Doctor's face was a study. From despair, it changed to delight, and he -flung himself into a seat, too happy to speak. But the Doctor was not -slow in giving us an explanation. He had been experimenting on some very -choice, newly acquired Spanish. That was the trouble, and instead of -taking him to the city station, the cabby, probably anxious for a good -fare, had driven about five miles to the first way-station on the road. -I did not think the Doctor could ever have been disconcerted under any -circumstances, but he was as thoroughly scared as one has need to be and -live; and for the rest of the day, every few minutes, he would break out -with some forceful expression about fool Americans who couldn't speak -Spanish and fool Spaniards who couldn't speak English. We all then and -there decided that we would learn Spanish or die. One or the other we -are sure to do. - - -II. - -It is a difficult matter to engage the Doctor in either scenery or -conversation, and, in spite of all the wonders in which we find -ourselves, as the plucky little train hurries along, it is a sort of -laugh and jollification all the way with the Doctor. - -I shall never forget the willows at the station where our Doctor -appeared. They were so exquisitely graceful and beautiful. They were -tall, with somewhat of the habits of the Lombardy poplar, close-limbed, -sinewy, and with the plumy grace of a bunch of feathers, bending, -bowing, whirling, swishing, in the cool mountain air, and I shall always -think of them as the Doctor's willows; for just as his frightened face -popped into the door, in the twinkling of an eye, I glanced out of the -window, and there stood that row of tall willows, like coy, young -maidens, bowing their gentle heads in graceful congratulation. The -Doctor's willow was to me one of the rarest, sweetest trees of that -wonderful day of trees, of that wonderful world of trees, of that -wonderful land of infinite beauties, known only to those whose eyes have -touched the vibration of their being. This willow, modest, unassuming -as it is, so unlikely to attract attention, without flower or colour, -other than the richest green that sunshine ever bestowed upon a leaf, -was in its way as exquisite as a dream of lace and dew-drops, as tender -as the sound of a lute, as sweetly sinuous as the drop of a violet's -head; and the mountain air, filtering through the thin, arrow-like -leaves, was music fit for gods,--not men. - -But the Doctor would not look at the willows, nor at the tall -grass--tall--tall--tall--following along the bed of a limpid stream--the -Guaira--tumbling along over pools and rocks and mossy beds; grasses so -high that even Jack's famous giants must needs stand on tiptoe to peep -over the top; grass twenty to thirty feet high, with feathery plumes -gracing the tall spires in masses of waving beauty. He would not see the -beauty of the picture that the Great Mother showed us, for he was still -in a dazed state of combined bewilderment, anger, and joy, and you know -it takes time to find one's feet after such an experience. - -But did I tell you how as usual bravery was rewarded? When we boarded -the train, we noticed our coach was unusually fine for a Venezuelan -railway, and we wondered at it. Later the conductor explained that it -was the private car of the general manager, all the common coaches being -taken up to complete the Special Train; and so the Doctor was at last -content. - - -III. - -Speeding along over the lordly plateau beyond Caracas, through a country -where the faintest effort on the part of man to cultivate the earth, the -least scratch with the hoe, meets with more than abundant response, -where, even in the high mountain altitude, sweet fields of cane and -coffee bring restful green and delicious shades in the ever-pervading -sunlight, we were entertained by some of the party, who were prophesying -a hard day and a hot day with a relish which was quite enviable. Why is -it that there must always be those who are constantly anticipating hot -weather? It seems to be out of the question to escape them; they either -predict that it will be, must be, unbearably hot, or unbearably cold, -according to the latitude in which they happen to be found. There seems -to be no way of getting along comfortably with the present. So we -listened while dire forebodings were omened for Valencia, and worse for -Puerto Cabello. - -In the meantime one of our friends,--Mrs. M---- from Boston,--was -suffering with a severe headache, and the Doctor, who had been in the -seat ahead of us, was asked if, in that small, black, professional-looking -valise, there was not something to relieve her pain. And then the Doctor -broke forth once more: - -"There's no use. I can't stand this any longer. I was called up last -night for the sick man in the after-deck stateroom; after each port I am -asked to prescribe for men suffering from swizzle jags, and I'm routed -out at all hours, and buttonholed by nervous women I don't know. I wish -I could help Mrs. M----; nothing would make me happier. But to tell the -truth, I'm not a doctor. I am only a plain business man--a manufacturer. -Somehow, when the passenger-list was made up, I was put in as 'Doctor -S----' and the list was printed and circulated before I knew of my -title. Then every one called me 'Doctor,' and it was such an easy name -to catch that I thought I'd just let it go, and I've been 'Doctor' to -every one ever since; but when it comes to setting a leg or curing a -headache, I must put an end to it." - -But the name had become fixed. It was there to stay, so the Doctor was -the "Doctor" in spite of his lack of diploma, and, in one sense, by his -good cheer, his readiness to join in fun, his stock of good stories, and -his consideration for others, he was quite as beneficial to our -sometimes weary selves, as if he carried his pockets full of bitter -tonic and invigorating elixirs. - - -IV. - -In front of us sat the Doctor; back of us sat a young South American -from "up country," with whom we entered into conversation, and from whom -we learned much to confirm our rapidly forming opinions of his great -country--Venezuela. He spoke English well, having been educated -partially in England, partially in New York. He came from the Province -of Colombo, to me a very indefinite, remotely hidden-away place -somewhere in the Andes, accessible only by two or three days' journey -from Caracas, partly by mule and partly by boat up the Maracaibo River. -By the way, we are told that Colombo is the native state of that peppery -little dictator--the present President Castro. - -This South American gentleman had been sent to Caracas to interview -Castro and his ministers with regard to a loan of twenty thousand -dollars in horses, cattle, and provisions made during the last -revolution to the faction which had placed Castro in power; the -transaction had evidently been dignified by the soothing name of "a -loan" because the quondam cowboy leader Castro had ended as a -self-elected President. Just what our fellow traveller's success had -been, we were unable to learn or he to tell, for this same General -Castro is a wily bird and keeps many an honest Venezuelan guessing. He -told us what we already knew,--that Venezuela needs peace--peace--peace, -and that, until she is assured of peace, her great hands must be idle. -We needed no words to assure us of her greatness. It was there before -us. The idle hands were clasping rich harvests unsown, rich treasures in -gold and silver glittered upon her fingers, and following the sweep of -her green mantle, there was a race of warm-hearted children, within -whose being there was the making of great men and women. But there must -be peace. For, when there is war, her great men go to the front, her -brave men are killed; but in some unfortunate way her political schemers -and professional revolutionists survive, and are always ready to make -new trouble. "He who fights and runs away will live to fight another -day." - -And so they run away--the unsuccessful ones--to Curacao, to Paris, or to -some of the neighbouring South American states, but their dirty shadows -ever hang imminent on the horizon. - - -V. - -During the conversation with our South American friends, we had reached -the end of the plateau, and the descent began into the great valley -below. It was not until we reached that point that we realised the -wonder of this Venezuelan railroad, or that we understood the reason of -its being called the "Great Venezuelan Railway"--_Gran Ferrocarril de -Venezuela_. Like the greater portion of all the business enterprises in -South America and the West Indies, the railroad was built by Germans. -Krupp, of gun fame, was named as the head of the company, and too much -cannot be said of the courage and skill of men who undertook to build a -road under such difficulties. There are railways of difficult -construction all over the world, indeed, but never, in our experience, -were we more impressed with the magnitude of an undertaking than we were -with the construction of this masterful road; though one might well -criticise the business judgment of men who would thus put millions of -dollars into an enterprise that apparently can never be self-supporting. -Think of it, eighty-seven tunnels through rocky mountain spurs, one -hundred and twenty heavy steel bridges between Caracas and Valencia, -miles of rock-cutting and costly filling, and all this to carry a -handful of passengers and a few tons of freight each day--altogether not -enough to load one of our "mixed trains" in the States! - -It follows where cataracts leap a thousand feet, where rivers boil in -thundering roar over mighty rocks; it cuts the mountain top asunder and -dashes through the rock-hewn lap of earth; it drops down through the -tops of giant trees, and robs the morning of her mist; it mingles with -the clouds, and anon kisses the feet of the ocean--but it doesn't pay -dividends. - -From its heights, the earth stretches out in wonderful ridges of -gigantic proportion; geography becomes real, a fact, seen in the great -perspective. The air is so clear that the eye seems to have new power of -vision to reach to the uttermost end of the earth; the eye imparts to -the soul its larger horizon, and a great leap of joy carries the spirit -into the infinite room of creation, into the infinite grandeur of -created things, and the spirit grows and feels its small estimate of -God's earth expanding into a newer, grander conception of creation. -Mountain ridges sweep through tremendous space, one upon another, and at -their base, thousands of feet below, a green pillow of sugar-cane -invites the head and heart to quiescence. No word "green" can ever bring -back the quivering, transparent green of those young cane-fields, far -below in the valleys, watered by the careful hand of man in thousands -of tiny streams of irrigation. - - -VI. - -The morning was just what it should be in spite of the croakers, and the -immensity of nature had imparted to our spirits much of her buoyancy; so -when the train came to a halt, we jumped with alacrity from the little -coach, and sought among the people for the human interest, which was as -ever very great. The route was dotted with charming stations, each one -flying a German and Venezuelan flag in delightful amity--for the Germans -impress the South American first with their greatness and then with -their friendliness; the mailed hand is shown only as the last resort. - -Here were stations green and beflowered, in sweet good order, with -fountains and running streams, and booths where we bought ginger cookies -and Albert biscuit and _cervesa Inglesa_ and all sorts of fruit; and -back of the stations, hints of quaint old churches with distant bells, -and gathering about the mother church, blue and white and yellow -glimpses of queer old houses. And oh! the colour! The flowering trees! -What artist could ever reach the delicacy of the _Maria_ tree, one mass -of living pearls. Its branches so full of flower that there seemed to be -no room for leaf; the branch only there by sufferance. At La Victoria, -where we stop for luncheon, in a curious little cafe under a confident -German flag, our family interpreter disappears, and in a few minutes -returns in the likeness of a Thracian god, bedecked with garlands, pink -and white. He covers my lap with rarest blossoms, gives them to one and -all, and brings into the dusty coach a fragrance of Elysium. I long to -keep the flowers for ever; I long to hold that colour in such security -that it can never escape; I long to enclose that essence in some secret -shrine for ever. And shall I say I have not? - - -VII. - -As we rush along down, nearing the Great Mother's mighty limbs, we pass -drooping arbours of _Bucari_, another flowering tree of wonderful -splendour, each flower like a glorious wax _Cattleya_, and millions of -them at a glance. Just then, as the blaze of beauty dazzles our eyes, -two brilliantly green parrots, frightened by the noisy interloper, take -flight from under their beauteous canopy, and wing their way in yellow, -green, and red vibrations through the scintillating landscape. We are -now flying along on a level stretch, in a high, rich valley, full of -luscious fruits and ripening harvests, and before the mountain opens to -receive us into one of its deep tunnels, we see large fields of a low -bush, growing quite in the nature of young coffee, with much the same -size and general appearance; without, however, the customary -shade-trees. Our friend from Colombo explained that it is tapioca; and -off beyond, in this next, white-walled _hacienda_ (what a world of -dreams and romance of the land of _siempre manana_ comes to one in that -combination of ordinary vowels and consonants--"_hacienda_"!), in the -_Hacienda Las Palomas_,--or was it the _Hacienda La Sierra_ or _La -Mata_, or _Guaracarima_?--the natives gather from the green river -valleys, maize and beans and yucca, in the language of the country, -"_frutas menores_;" but more abundantly than all else, are gathered the -coffee and the sugar in vast crops year by year. - -Westward from the summit the River Tuy plays hide-and-seek with us for -many a mile, darting, hurrying, beckoning, charming us, with a desire to -loiter when she loiters, to leap through the cliffs with her joy, to -rest under flower-spread arbours in sleepy towns with her, to dissolve -ourselves at last into the deep earth as she does. Finally we see her no -more, but now the larger Aragua, flowing toward the Lake of Valencia, -reaches out a bold hand, and we follow the new pathfinder where she -commands. - -One last look into the shadowy depths before we drop to the plains. It -is only a glimpse, for the passing is so swift that the eye cannot reach -its entirety of beauty; but that glimpse is like the shadow of a great -rock,--a lasting memory. A bird slowly sways in mighty, circling sweeps, -poised upon the ether, between two green-robed mountain priests--a great -bird against the hazy mountain deep, swaying, calm, eternally sure of -its strength. Was there a hand outstretched beneath in the far, -disappearing morning which brought the ecstasy into the soul of that -lonely wanderer? - -We leave the tunnels, the endless bridges, the heights, and drop down -rapidly into the valley, where the heat begins and the dust flies. We -follow the Aragua until she brings us to the Lake of Valencia, a long, -rambling, shallow lake, much like some of our own Northern lakes, and, -at the first opportunity (I think it was at Maracay), we leave the -train, and stand under the wide doors of the freight depot, with the -natives lying around half-asleep on sacks of coffee, and try to catch a -whiff of refreshing coolness from the lake. More German flags; they are -very interesting, but why should a party of Americans be so honoured? -For the German officers had gone back to the ship to do the polite to -General Castro. But the halt here was for a few minutes only; and we go -on, down through the hot little city of Valencia into greater heat, and -for a time into greater and more glorious vegetation. - -It was a curious sight,--the piles of compressed coal dust made into -blocks,--"briquettes,"--eight to ten inches square, each stamped -"Cardiff, Wales," piled in high, orderly heaps at each station; greater -supplies of which we found, as we left the timber for the low country. -But I must not give the impression that the low country is untimbered; -far from it. As we leave the higher levels and start the final sharp -descent toward the coast on the cog-road,--a curious device in -railroading to overcome the danger of such steep inclines,--we can give -no conception of the forest growth through which we pass. The air is hot -and still; the trees stand in their eternal beauty, in their myriads of -blossoms, in their vivid colourings, with deep festoons of moss and -interweaving vines in motionless repose. They seem to exhale heat and -silence and darkness, even under the blaze of a still, white sun; they -tell only of night in the tangled growth of nature triumphant. It might -have been at Nagua-Nagua, if not there it was very near there, that the -springs of water, boiling out of the earth, were hot and sulphurous, -and, as we were about to move on in our roomy coach, along came the -much-talked of Special, with its crowded passengers looking jaded and -worn and cross, more, I imagine, from the incessant clatter of tongues -than from the asperity of the Southern sun. On, on, nearer to the sea, -to where the palms grow. There had been cocoanut and royal palms -before,--yes, from Haiti through all the islands we had seen them, but -here they attain their most perfect grandeur and glory. We came upon -them not singly, in isolated groups of conservative aristocracy, but in -companies and regiments, miles of them, arranged by the masterful hand -of Nature, now in mighty groups apart, like a conference of plumed -generals, and then again in battalions of tall grenadiers on silent -dress parade. Their light lofty trunks gave back from the sun a dull, -grayish white pallor. They were still and grand, and unspeakably -beautiful. - -The heat seems to grow more intense as the sun sinks lower in the -heavens, and we drop down almost to the level of the ocean. The dust -becomes more blinding, and the palms disappear, and all things prickly -and unapproachably dry and forbidding, shadeless and impenetrable, take -their place, and change the picture from one of tropical life to -tropical death. - -[Illustration: A SOUTH AMERICAN STREET - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Long wastes of white sand spread over the desolate landscape, relieved -by not one sprig of comely green or welcome shade, with great mounds and -masses of gigantic and distorted cacti, more impassable than any -man-made barricade. They fitted in well with the heat and the dust, and -the long, low sun-rays, shooting in upon us their streaming floods of -white light; and then, just as I began to think the croakers might have -been right for once--there came a shout from the Doctor, from the Boston -friend, from us all; and Daddy, who was on the other side of the car, -jumps over to my seat and bends over my shoulder just in time to catch -sight of the sea--_el Mar Caribe_--before a bristling bank of cacti shut -it for the time from view. The Caribbean Sea--blue, far-reaching, -sweetly cool, washing the feet of the great, good Mother;--we longed to -plunge into the surf, and wash away the dust and heat and all unrest. -The sight of the great sea so near us, and our trim ship at anchor in -the harbour of Puerto Cabello, and the prospect of seeing the little -girls, from whom we had been separated by so many hours and miles, gives -us a deep joy. The day had been covered by the hand of God from dawn to -setting, and to the end of time there shall no greater beauty meet our -souls. - -Then through the sleepy streets of hot old Puerto Cabello we wander to -where a boat waits us by the rotting quay at the river's mouth. Two -darling faces find our wistful searchings as we near the ship, and four -sweet arms accompanied by kisses fairly weigh us down as we reach the -deck. - -"Oh, Mother! Just think of it, we shook hands with President Castro!" - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -CURACAO. CITY OF WILLEMSTAD - - -I. - -Small wonder indeed that the early explorers, the men to whom we owe the -discovery of these island gems, gave them such charmingly poetical -names. Small wonder that they named them as one would a necklace of -deep-sea pearls, strung as they are one upon another in a circlet about -the blue Caribbean Sea, the shadow of one velvety peak throwing its dark -coolness fairly to the base of sister isles, some but a few hours -distant, others perhaps a day, across seas as blue and green and limpid -as the ether above. It seems incredible that from these peaceful waters -rise the vast, cyclonic storms which frequently make such desolation on -our coasts; and that within the green and softly moulded outlines of -some of these mountainous islands there lie volcanic craters which -still grumble and threaten; but, as there are times and seasons for all -things, so there seems to be an ordering for the giant winds to rage, -when the sun is dyed its deepest, and the earth pants for want of drink -to moisten her quivering lips. But that time of unrest is far away now, -and, as we leave Puerto Cabello and its quiet harbour, bound for -Curacao, and drop below the horizon the cocoanut-fringed shores of the -Spanish Main, it seems as if it must ever be on unruffled seas and -toward peaceful havens that the islanders voyage back and forth. - -Surely it is not more than the turning once over in sleep before, with -the morning breeze fresh in our nostrils, we are right upon the dear -little Dutch city of Willemstad, the capital of the Dutch West Indies on -the island of Curacao; and, once ashore, we long to lodge indefinitely -behind the spotless white curtains that peek out from under some snug -little peaked roof, shifting scenes only when the impulse to go farther -comes over us; and then sailing away in one of the little packet -schooners which coast along from island to island, or possibly, taking -passage in a mail steamer, or anything bound anywhere, just so it does -not come blundering along before we are ready. - -There should be no words for days and hours in the tropics. Time should -be measured by enjoyments in changeful measure, slow and fast, as one's -mood demands. Rigid hours are obtrusive where the rustle of the -cocoa-palm invites rest. - - -II. - -The little girls and I are hurrying into our hair ribbons and our white -petticoats and white waists and white hats, just as fast as our fingers -can tie or button, when Curacao jumps into our cabin windows, or maybe -our ship has jumped into Curacao; or is it Holland we have dropped upon, -or is it a new stage-setting for the latest _al fresco_ production of -"The Flying Dutchman?" - -We no sooner have our first glimpse than, for a bit, all the dressing -stops, and we crowd our three heads up to the port-holes in perfect -delight. As our slim ship slowly winds herself into the river-like -harbour, this West Indian Holland becomes more and more enchanting. The -harbours in these islands have been an increasing wonder to us. On the -Venezuelan coast Puerto Cabello (translated literally, "The Port of the -Hair," because there it was said a hair would hold a ship) is a perfect -example of a harbour for small vessels. Deep, natural channels--like -rivers--wind circuitously until they widen into land-locked basins where -ships of all nations, and of all rigs, and for all purposes, from the -grim war-ship to the native dugout, come unexpectedly into sight as the -channel turns and broadens into the real harbour. There the ship is left -by the native pilot. - -This harbour of Curacao is no exception. We enter by a narrow, deep way -protected by rocky barriers, directly into a little inner bay, encircled -by the quaint town. The houses gliding by, within easy hailing distance -of our decks, are preeminently Dutch, of brilliant, striking colouring, -noticeably yellow, and mathematically exact as to rows and heights and -proportions--most un-West-Indian. The town is certainly just recovering -from a fresh coat of kalsomine. It is bright as a top and clean as a -whistle. - -[Illustration: ACROSS STE. ANNE BAY - -Harbour of Willemstad, Curacao - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -We are but a stone's throw from either dock, and it requires a lot of -common sense, even downright logic, to persuade us that we are in the -Caribbean Sea, and not far off on the other side of the globe coming out -of the flat estuaries of the bleak North Sea into the Meuse or the Y. - -A bit of Holland has been lost from out Mother Earth's pocket, and has -fallen by the way in this Western Hemisphere; and it has managed to get -along without the big Dutch mother very well. It has grown up into full -stature, following the instincts of its birth, almost wholly -uninfluenced by tropical environment. Here it stands, a perfect little -Dutchman, an exact reproduction of its staunch progenitors. Its forms -and habits have followed the traditions of its ancestors, not those of -its West Indian foster-mother. There is only one racial trait lacking in -Curacao,--we saw no windmills; all the rest is there. But, to our great -relief, we are told that even the windmills appear on the country places -farther inland. - - -III. - -The arrival of our ship awakens the Yellow City early in the morning, -and, before our boats are lowered, the shore is white with crowds of -Curacaoans, big and little, pushing and jostling each other for a sight -of us. Our breakfast is done with in short order. A hurried bit of -fruit, a quick swallow of boiling coffee, a fresh roll, and up we -scramble to the deck. So it is invariably, as we near a port. Each time -we come upon an island more curious, more irresistible than any we have -seen before. We may be sighting it first as we refresh our bodies with a -bath of the clear salt water from without, warmed into the most -delicious mildness by the eternal smile of the sun. Then comes a -scramble to dress, then a bolt to the dining-room, where we eat and run. -Now, in pops a big "if." If we were only snoozing in a Dutch -four-poster, with a frilled nightcap on, under a peaked roof in -Willemstad, then we'd never need to hurry, for all we'd have to do would -be to open our eyes and look around, and wait for the coffee to come -with a rap at the door and a lifting of the curtain. But there is small -comfort in listening to the endless schemes of that miscreant "if." -We'll banish him in disgrace. - -[Illustration: SOME OF OUR FRIENDS AT WILLEMSTAD] - -[Illustration: WHERE THE BASKET-WOMEN WAITED - -Willemstad, Curacao] - -Before we have time to readjust our impressions of one island to -the anticipated pleasures of the one following, we are among a new -people, speaking a strange tongue, living to us a new life,--to them a -weather-worn old life; among people in densely populated cities, shut -off from our world by weeks--at times by months--of silent isolation. - -Then all at once a fleck of smoke lifts above the horizon, a steamer is -sighted far out at sea, the pilot puts out in his little open boat, and -the whole island throbs with new emotion, for a ship is coming! - -From a poetical standpoint, I wish it were possible to believe that this -emotion is a disinterested pleasure in welcoming strangers; in feeling -once again the hand of man from the great world outside. Viewing the -people, as we must, largely from an impersonal standpoint, it impressed -us that the West Indian cares very little for the welcome or for the -hand of man from the great continent; but that he is up early in the -morning to devise new ways of reaching the pockets of the invaders, come -they ever so peaceably. - -The natives await the coming of strangers, as a pack of hungry wolves -watch for the shorn lamb. I myself have been that shorn lamb on several -occasions. - -[Illustration: THE LANDING - -Willemstad, Curacao] - -Quite undaunted by the great crowd of Curacaoans on shore, our jackies -made a cable fast to the near-lying quay, by which means our big boats -are pulled back and forth, to and from the ship. Those coming to us -bring the sellers of baskets; and it is here, although forewarned and -forearmed, that our basket mania again breaks forth in full force. First -came the famous Curacaoan nests of baskets, of which Charles Kingsley -confesses to have been beguiled into buying; and, if so wise a man as he -fell victim to the wiles of the Curacaoan basket-woman, how much more -readily would we weaker mortals become her prey? Then, ranged -temptingly, along the dock stood rows of Curacaoan hampers,--great, -fine, coloured affairs, which we looked at, and looked at, and looked -at, and didn't buy. Then, beside the basket-women, were the men with -fans and all sorts of straw weavings,--and then, oh! the work-boxes. -Truly, you have seen them! Has not your grandmother stowed away in -the dark attic somewhere an old mahogany box, inlaid with ivory and -brass and coloured woods, with fascinating secret drawers and numerous -lids for the hiding of her precious keepsakes and age-worn trinkets? -Such a box is one of the chaste memories of my childhood,--Grandmother's -mahogany box, with the inlaid lid and the musty odour of bygone years. -When we found these same dear old boxes away down in Curacao, the worn, -hingeless, forsaken chest in the attic arose into a new dignity--into -the dignity of a noble family lineage. So I have found at last its -_habitat_, and these bright and gleaming creations are great-great--and -no end to great--grandchildren of my far-away, lonely relic in the -attic. But sentiment has to give way to reason, and we shake our heads -at the box-man and the hamper-woman, who, nevertheless, follow us up to -the bridge from the Otra-Banda shore over the canal, whence they watch -dejectedly while we pay bridge-toll and disappear across the canal into -the narrow Dutch streets, where the high roofs seem ready to topple over -upon us. - - -IV. - -What a picture of Dutch colonial life comes to us in that short walk! -The overreaching eaves all but touch. Old lanterns swing across the -narrow way, wrought-iron sign-posts reach long arms out over our heads, -the shop doors are wide open, and the keepers of the shops could readily -shake hands across the way. - -I wonder if there is any excuse at all for the fact that my preconceived -ideas about Curacao were wholly founded upon a very indistinct memory of -a certain liquid of that name, said to be distilled upon this island -from the wild sour orange? I expected to find this ambrosial nectar -stacked in rows in every shop, in bottles, long and slim, chunky, dumpy, -and round; in nice little flat bottles,--gifts for bachelor friends; in -ornamented fancy bottles for envying housewives; in thick, pudgy, -squatty bottles for gouty old uncles; in every conceivable shape and -size I expected to find it. - -Willemstad was not to be Willemstad--city, town, burg--it was to be an -inhabited flask of curacao, a kind of West Indian bubble blown from the -lips of the Northeast Trades, sweet with the breath of wild orange. The -man with the bottles was to be a more subtle tempter than the -hamper-woman, and--but it didn't happen that way at all. It turned out -very differently. - -I, for one, did not see a single bottle of any shape or form in the -whole town, but the men must have found some, for just before sailing a -box was brought in, labelled "Curacao," and I surmised it was liqueur, -but I didn't open the box. Truly I did not! - -Some of us cynically argued that the liqueur was all sent in from -somewhere else and palmed off as a native product; others clung to the -home-production fancy, and yet neither one was altogether wrong, for the -famous liqueur is made both in Holland and in this little Dutch colony -away off in the New World; at any rate this is its birthplace and home. - -But the gold filigree, for which the islanders are famous, was true to -our expectations. We are drawn up the shut-in street by the magnetism of -a crowd which is gathering about a shop-door, and filling the tiny place -fairly to suffocation with eager buyers of gold rings and pins, and all -sorts of trinkets. - -We turn from the goldsmith and the seller of corals, and the shops, and -make for the tram,--a little, two-seated bandbox on wheels, drawn by a -two-penny mule on a tiny track through the clean white streets of -Curacao. We are told that there is a law against the painting of the -houses white, on account of the blinding glare of the sun, and no -wonder, for, even after a few short hours of wandering, our eyes ache -with the strain and glare of so great light. The blue houses are an -exquisite rest to the eye. The whole colour scheme of Curacao is yellow -and blue, and sometimes light green, with white used sparingly as -decoration. Green, the green of trees and grass, you ask? No. I said -nothing of the green of nature. It's too thoroughly Dutch for that. - -The bandbox car hitches along, threatening to topple over any minute on -the toy donkey and stop,--at least until sundown, which would be most -sensible. Let's cover up the donkey and get out of the glare until -night! But, no! He has his own ideas, and experience has taught us the -futility of an attempt to change them, so we settle down to the -succession of yellow houses and blue houses, and white pillars and clean -flights of white steps, but hardly a peep of green, not a sprig of palm, -or tamarind, or orange, not a vestige of the great fundamental -nature-colour--except in a well-concealed little park--everything paved -and finished and whitewashed--only a few prim and well-pruned shrubs -carefully set in either corner of the tiny front yards, and our eyes -ache for the sight of trees and grass. Where the wild orange grows, we -failed to discover, for the town itself is almost entirely bare of trees -or flowers. Of course, it must be remembered that our very short stay -made any long excursion into the country out of the question. Let us -come again; we must find the wild oranges! - -Strange, is it not? No shade whatever in latitudes where the growing of -great vegetation is but the matter of a few months. As far as we could -see, there were no real trees in Willemstad; still, if palms do not grow -in Holland, whatever would be the sense in having them here? They would -spoil the likeness. - -So we jerk our hats down, readjust the dark glasses, tuck our -handkerchiefs under our collars, and start up a breeze with a Curacaoan -fan, and decide to play "Jack-in-the-box" and jump out; primarily, to -make straight for our ship to escape the midday sun; secondarily, to -take one very impressionable member of our party away from the alarming -charms of a stunning Curacaoan woman--a woman of that noble and grandly -developed type which often appears in the descendants of the -Dutch--whose comely form occupies a goodly share of the bandbox seat. - -The streets in this residence part of the city are still and empty. The -penny donkey and "we'uns" are the only live things visible. We are -seized with a desire to pound on those eternally closed doorways to see -if people really do live there. This seeing things on the outside is no -fun. Let's make a sensation of some kind! Upset the bandbox, roll the -plump lady in a heap inside; put on the cover; stand the penny donkey on -top; capture some Curacaoan hampers, jump inside, pull down the lid and -play forty thieves. - -[Illustration: A JOLLY DUTCH PORT - -Willemstad, Curacao] - -But, no,--we are sworn foes to scenes, and our vain wish to pinch -somebody dies unsatisfied; and finally, when the penny donkey comes to -the end of the route down by the quay, we take the longest way around, -through the narrow thoroughfares, following the curve of the shore, over -bridges which span the canals leading from the main channel of the -harbour, down past the basket-woman with her tempting wares on the -Otra-Banda quay to our floating home, where the governor and all the -prominent citizens of Willemstad have assembled in great numbers. - -Well, we've found out one thing. The houses were empty sure enough. The -people are all on our ship. What a good thing it was we left the bandbox -right side up! There would have been no one to rescue the plump lady. - - -V. - -Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. U----, come toward us with a group of -strangers--Curacaoan--whose acquaintance happened just as the best -things of life come to us--by the merest chance. They were driving about -the city in company with the American consul, when, in passing one of -the most attractive residences, their attention was drawn toward two -young women who were standing out on the veranda, waving a great -flag--our Stars and Stripes--in utter disregard of heat and sun; waving -it forth in the yellow and white glare with all the love of country and -home which motion could express. Their enthusiasm at once called forth a -response on the part of the visitors; the carriage stopped and forthwith -all the occupants of the house, following the two girls with the flag, -came to welcome the strangers. The newcomers were bidden to enter and -there was no limit to their hospitable entertainment. - -The flag-bearers were two homesick Southern girls, married to the sons -of a leading Dutch family. They had not visited their native land since -their marriage, and, oh! how they longed to see the dear old South -again! When their countrymen set foot at Curacao, all of the slumbering -mother-country love broke forth again, and the old flag came out, and -they feasted the strangers, and did their utmost to honour the precious -sentiment of loyalty to home. And, after the ices and cooling drinks and -fruits and confections, they and their friends were invited aboard -ship, where it was our pleasure to make their acquaintance. - -We find here, as we have in all the other islands, that the leading -families--the men in power--are comparatively pure representatives of -the original colonising stock; that is, pure Dutch, Dane, Castilian, -French, as the case may be; but that the people are a strange mixture of -all nationalities, speaking languages for the most part unwritten, -handed down from generation to generation by word of mouth, strangely -intangible, and yet as fixed and well recognised among the people as is -the old Common Law in the courts of Anglo-Saxon countries. Our friends -in Curacao tell us that the well-born natives speak Dutch, English, -Spanish, and often French, with equal facility; added to this is another -language which must be learned in order to deal with the common people. - -This curious language--"_Papaimiento_," it is called--has been reduced -to a certain degree of form in order to facilitate its being taught in -the schools. Children learn this language from their nurses, just as our -Southern children acquire the negro dialect from the old "mammies." The -comparison cannot be carried out to its full extent for the reason that, -while our negro dialect bears a close and intelligible likeness to -English, _Papaimiento_ is so unlike Dutch as to render its acquisition -almost as difficult for a Dutchman as that of any other foreign -language, but fortunately the Dutch are good linguists. It bears, of -course, some likeness to Dutch in the fundamentals, but aside from that, -it is a strange combination of speech--perhaps more Spanish than -anything else--put together, it would seem, to meet the needs of as many -people as possible. The meaning of the name _Papaimiento_ is, in the -dialect, "The talk we talk," _i. e._, "our language." - -Curacao lies some fifty miles off the coast of South America, and her -favourable position between Venezuela and the Windward Islands has made -her free port a most desirable one for the smugglers who wish to supply -cheap goods to the South American ports. Thousands of flimsy tin-covered -trunks ready for Venezuelan voyagers bear evidence of her popularity as -a free and unquestioning port. Here, also, many steamers touch. But, -above all, Curacao is the haunt and refuge of the disappointed or -temporarily exiled Spanish American politician or revolutionist. - -Here, like puppets in a show, appear from time to time many noble -patriots ready to fight for their undying principles and incidentally to -absorb any loose property in the track of their conquering "armies;" and -here hies the deposed "President," or the lately conquered general, with -his chests of treasure, waiting for a ship to his beloved Paris. Watch -our own American newspapers for the warlike notes that Willemstad, -Curacao, ever feeling the pulse of northern South America, sends out to -the world. Did she not give us the earliest news of Cervera's mysterious -fleet? Does she not thrill us with the momentous gymnastics of President -Castro, and the blood-curdling intentions of General Matos, General -Uribe-Uribe, General Santiago O'Flanigan _et hoc genus omne_? - -The date of our visit to Curacao is about the time of the little Queen -of Holland's wedding, so that Wilhelmina and her prospects, and all the -gossip attending so charming a personage, becomes with us, as we sit -chatting together on the deck, a lively topic of interest. Mrs. C---- -tells us of a gold box which is to be sent the young queen as a bridal -gift from her subjects in Curacao; a box fashioned after the most -perfect art of the native goldsmith, in filigree so rare that none but a -queen were fit to open it. This box, perchance the size of Pandora's -once enchanted casket, is to be filled with the needlework of Curacaoan -women--work as far-famed as the lace of Maracaibo, the lace we expected -to see everywhere in Caracas, while we were then so near the Maracaibo -country, but which one can never find unless the open-sesame of the -Spanish home is discovered, as impossible a task as the quest of the -immortal Ponce de Leon. We did not see the Maracaibo lace, nor the -Curacaoan lace, and we are told that such a disappointment is not -unusual; it is only for the elect--the Curacaoan people themselves--that -these wonderful specimens of the skill of patient women are visible. - -I shall never forget hearing that unwritten page in the tragic history -of Spain's noble son, Admiral Cervera, as the Doctor in his quiet, low -voice told how the great admiral touched first at Curacao after his -long and perilous voyage from Spain. It was the Doctor's son who sent -the cable message to the United States, telling that the Spanish fleet -was in the offing. But it was the Doctor himself who went with the -surgeons who had been sent ashore by Cervera on their humiliating -errand, to all the pharmacies in Curacao for surgical supplies. The -fleet had been hurried from Spain unprepared, and in fact almost -unseaworthy, with not so much as a single bandage aboard or the most -ordinary necessities for the immediate succour of the wounded. They had -absolutely nothing in the way of such medical and surgical equipment at -hand, although they knew their imminent and terrible need for just such -things. Doctor C----, with the true physician's love for his fellow men, -went from pharmacy to pharmacy with the surgeon, and bought up all the -bandages and gauze and iodoform and other supplies which were to be -found. Meantime detachments from the ships' crews began to land--hungry -and worn, sad with the shadow of the great coming tragedy--and they fell -upon the island like a lot of starved wolves. They actually had not -food enough aboard to keep body and soul together, for the corrupt and -procrastinating government at Madrid had not even properly victualled -this fleet of war-ships before sending them to their certain -destruction. The market was cleaned of everything it could afford, and -even then it was a mere drop in the bucket to that unhappy host. Later -Doctor C---- went out to the flag-ship with the surgeon, and spoke with -Cervera, who prophetically told him that he knew he was going to his -doom--but it had to be! And the twisted skeletons of those noble ships -which we later saw strewn from Santiago on along the southern Cuban -coast was but the fulfilment of the miserable fate he then so clearly -foresaw, but which, after his unavailing pleas to the Spanish government -before sailing, the staunch old admiral, with a Spaniard's pride and -bravery, would not avoid. For so it was written! Is there not a strain -of the Moor's fatalism still traceable in the true Spaniard? - -Thus as we chat with our new-found friends on topics grave and gay -through the noon hour and on into mid-afternoon, the people of the city -continue to crowd one another, row upon row, on the dock. A native band -plays our national airs and Dutch national airs, and our decks are -filled with visitors--the governor of the island and his suite and -ladies, and fine little solemn-eyed and suspiciously dark-skinned Dutch -children; and, in the midst of all the visiting and moving back and -forth, some one asks Doctor W---- how the islanders feel about -absorption by the United States--apparently a possibility now present in -the mind of every West Indian; and the not surprising answer is made, -that, for his part, he--a Dutchman, Holland-born--would favour -annexation; and from the wild enthusiasm of the people ashore, as the -bugle sounds the first warning of departure, one might readily believe -that so favourable, so friendly, is the feeling for the United States, -that the slightest advances toward peaceable annexation would be met -with universal favour. And so the merchants also talked. - -The houses begin to move,--no, it's our boat herself, slowly, very -slowly. We drop our shore-lines, and shout after shout rings after us. -The populace moves in a mass along the quay, and the native band beats -away its very loudest, and the bigger marine band aboard beats even -louder, and it's a jumble of national airs in different keys, and -hurrahs, and the people following along the quay. We wave our -handkerchiefs until our arms are tired. One black-faced, bandannaed, -Dutch conglomerate in her enthusiasm whips off her bright skirt, and in -a white petticoat and red chemise she waves the fluttering skirt in the -breeze. - -If the United States ever seriously contemplates the annexation of any -of the West Indian islands, the surest way, and the quickest way, to -bring it about would be to send ship-loads of pleasure-seeking -Americans, for bimonthly visits, leave their mania for buying things -unrestrained, and, before diplomacy has had time to put on its dress -suit, the islanders would beg for annexation. - -[Illustration: A SNUG HARBOUR - -Willemstad, Curacao] - -Do not deceive yourself into the belief that you will find El Dorado in -these islands, where the products of the country, food, and lodging, can -be bought for a song; where one can get full value for money expended. -On the contrary, values have become so distorted by the extravagance of -some American tourists that to be recognised as an American is a -signal for the most extortionate demands from the hotel-keeper to the -market-woman. The system of extravagant feeing and still more our -readiness to pay what is asked us instead of bargaining and haggling -over prices as the natives do, and as is confidently expected of any -sane human being, has so demoralised service and the native scale of -prices that it is fairly impossible to obtain the ordinary necessities -for which one expects to pay in the hotel bill, without giving -needlessly large fees to the servants who happen to be in your -attendance; or to find anything offered at a reasonable price in the -markets. - -At the sight of an American--and we are readily distinguished--the -prices advance, and the unoffending tourist is obliged to suffer for the -extravagance of those who have gone before him. This infection has -spread through all the islands, and there has not been a port on our -entire cruise wholly free from its effect. Perhaps, however, Willemstad -was the pleasantest of all in this respect, for it is a free port, used -to low prices and the ways of outsiders. - -It might be possible to go through the islands at a reasonable expense, -provided one spoke the language necessary at the various ports with -ease, and had the time and patience to bargain and shop indefinitely; -provided, _also_, one could beat against the tide which sweeps the -American toward the "Gran Hotel." Let him but once depart from his -ancestral traditions of simple habits, let him but enter the portico of -the "Gran Hotel," and he at once becomes the prey of every known species -of human vulture. It is the old story of Continental Europe over again. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THE SOUTHERN CROSS - - -"Wake up! Wake up! If you want to see the Southern Cross, wake up and -come on deck!" And we remember how long we had been waiting for those -wonderful stars, and how Daddy, who many nights slept on deck, had told -us that he often saw them, and how we had, night after night, vowed we -would make the effort to awaken at two in the morning, and how, each -night, we had slept along, too tired with the wonder days to move an -inch until bugle-call. - -But here comes this far-off voice again calling us from the Northland of -dreams, and it seems to be saying, "This is your last chance. By -to-morrow (whenever that uncertainty comes!) the stars will have rolled -away, or you will have sailed along, and there will be no Southern -Cross, and you may as well not have come away down here to the Spanish -Main at all if you miss seeing it,"--and then we wake a bit more, and -the figure in the doorway stands there with "come" on his face, and -"wake up!" on his lips, and we try to think how sorry we shall be if we -do not see the Southern Cross. And then the door closes with a rather -contemptuous click, and we land in the middle of the floor, aroused by -the disappearance of the figure in pajamas and by our somewhat -reawakened sense of duty. - -Throwing on light wrappers, the little girls stumble along after me to -where our man stands leaning against the rail, his face turned skyward. - -"There it is--see? Right in the south, directly opposite the Great Bear -that sunk below the northern horizon two hours ago. One star down quite -low, near the horizon, and one almost in a straight line above, and one -at either side equal distances apart, like an old four-cornered kite. -You must imagine the cross. But it's hardly what it's cracked up to be!" -And we blink at the stars, and they blink at us, and we feel strangely -unreal and turned about. - -What in all the world has the Southern Cross to do with the nineteenth -century? It belongs to Blackbeard, and the great procession of pirates -and roving buccaneers who swept these seas in tall-sparred, black-hulled -craft, some hundreds of years ago. One or the other of us is out of -place. The only consistent part of the night is, that, while our eyes -are searching for the four luminous dots in the Southern Cross, our ship -is plunging on toward Jamaica, that one-time Mecca of the bandit rover -of the sea. There he found safe harbour and friends in the same -profession; there it was that the hoards of Spanish gold and plate and -all conceivable sorts of plunder, taken from the hapless merchantmen, -were bought and sold and gambled away. But, without the accompaniment of -roystering pirates and swaggering buccaneers, the Southern Cross seems -out of joint. Jamaica may do as she is, but, as we look out across the -scurrying waters, there's a malicious twinkle to the top star in the -Southern Cross and that makes us all the more determined to give it an -opportunity to renew old acquaintance. We'll have a pirate--we must have -a pirate, if not a real one, bloody and black and altogether -fascinating, we must conjure one by magic! Pirates there must be! So, to -pacify our insatiable desire to resuscitate the ghostly heroes of the -long-dead past, the Spanish Student offers a yarn. - -Four bells of the second night watch rings out, and "All's well!" floats -above our heads, and the witching hour of two in the morning brings the -proper flavour to the story. We cuddle down on some stray ship chairs, -and the story begins: - -"Once upon a time--" - -"Oh, dear! Is it to be a 'once upon a time' story, Dad? Then it won't be -real," breaks in the Wee One. - -"Yes, it is real, Chick; at least, so far as I know. But you must not -interrupt me again. If you do, I might forget, and then the Cross up -there would put out its lights and go to bed." - -"No, Dad, I'll be good." - -"Well, once upon a time, there was a doughty old French Corsair, who was -one of the most daring pirates on the Spanish Main. Morals were in a -topsyturvy state in those days, and in none were they more -wrong-side-to than in this famous old Frenchman. He had a long, low, -topsail schooner, painted black, with sharp clipper stem, clean flush -decks and tall and raking masts, and--" - -"I know all about him, Dad. He had a black beard, and he used to braid -it in lots of pigtails, and tie it with ribbons," says Wee One, again. - -"Now, Toddlekins, what did I say? I shall certainly bundle you off to -bed. No, it wasn't Blackbeard, but it was a pirate just as fierce and -fully as bad mannered. This old fellow had been rampaging around here, -there, and everywhere, all about this Caribbean Sea and along the -Spanish Main, in search of ships and gold and prisoners, and -occasionally even food, and in fact anything of value he might come -across; when not very far from where we are now--yes, just about this -latitude, it was, but a few leagues more to the west--by the light of -the stars--yes, by the light of this very Southern Cross, he makes out -the land, and soon after spies a tidy, prosperous little village handy -to the shore of a palm-fringed inlet. Like the provident pirate that he -was, he at once decides that he is both hungry and thirsty and that his -lusty followers are short of rations. Here is a likely port from which -to supply. - -"So off goes a long-boat filled with his precious cutthroats, carrying a -pressing invitation to the village priest and some of his friends to -come aboard. The fat priest is routed out and escorted to the waiting -boat; he understands his mission, he has seen such men before. So, -taking along a few chosen friends, he makes the best of a bad business -and is rowed off to the ship in short order. The citizens, meanwhile, -are requisitioned for all sorts of food and drink, and the priest and -his friends have a jolly time of it as hostages. But as his wit grows -with the wine it occurs to our Corsair that, with a priest aboard, Holy -Church should have due reverence, and roars out his imperative -suggestion that mass would be in order. An altar is rigged up on the -quarter-deck, holy vestments and vessels are quickly brought from the -village church, and the ship's crew are summoned to assemble and warned -to take hearty part in the service. In place of music, broadsides are -ordered fired from the pirate's cannon after the _Credo_, after the -_Elevation_, and after the _Benediction_. At the _Elevation of the -Host_, the captain finds occasion to reprove a sailor for lack of -reverence. But at a second offence from the same trifler, out comes his -cutlass--a swift, shining circle follows the Corsair's blade, and off -flies the still grinning head and the blood spirts high from the jumping -trunk. The poor priest is startled, but the captain reassures him with -kind words, for, says he, it is only his duty and always his pleasure to -protect the sanctity of holy things; he would do the same thing -again--and a thousand times!--to any one who was disrespectful to the -Holy Sacrament. For why is there a great God above and his Holy Church -on earth except to be honoured? Then the service continues as if nothing -had happened and again comes the whine of the Latin chants and the -thunder of the reverent guns. - -"After mass, the body is heaved overboard and no burial rites are said, -for who shall try to save a heretic's soul? The priest is put ashore -with many a smile and oath and many a pious crossing, and our Corsair -and his pack of thieves go their way, having paid their respects to -Holy Church." - -"Oh, Dad!" says Toddlekins, "that was lovely; is it true? Tell us -another! Just one more! Don't you remember about Captain Kidd? - - "'My name was Captain Kidd, as I sailed, as I sailed, - My name was Robert Kidd, as I sailed. - My name was Robert Kidd, - God's laws I did forbid, - And wickedly I did, as I sailed.' - -"Don't you remember the other verses? You used to sing them to us on the -yacht before we ever thought of seeing the real Southern Cross." - -And just as the indulgent parent begins to waver, and the little girls -are sure they have won another story, down--down--down--drops a big -star, the foot of the Cross, millions of miles away, and the three -lonely wanderers still hanging low in the heavens reach out their great -shadowy arms in ghostly warning to those unthinking children of Adam who -defy time and sleep and all things reasonable, just for the sake of a -few old memories of a very questionable past. - -Then those three deserted stars quiver and shiver and hide behind the -wandering company of torch-bearers, and silently disappear, and a tired -moon gives a vague uncertainty to sea and air. - -In spite of the early morning mystery, all our efforts to reinstate the -French Corsair, the black-hulled phantom, and the headless sailor, fail. - -The decks of the ship are damp and empty and long. The ungainly deck -chairs are locked together in gruesome lines like monstrous grasshoppers -dying in winrows, and the great engines below beat and throb, and the -water rolls past us in giant breathings, full of the sighs of dead men -lying fathoms deep beneath our keel, and the stars sink lower and lower, -and we are hurrying on toward the morning. Our eyes are still longing -for sleep, and the little girls flutter down below, and we two after -them. In the morning, after some strange dreams, we lie at anchor off -the Blue Mountains of Jamaica. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -KINGSTON, JAMAICA - - -I. - -Had he not come aboard, it is doubtful if even the "kirk-ganging habit" -inherited from a long line of devout ancestors could have dragged us to -the service. But there was an unforgettable something in his face which -compelled us, in spite of the intense heat, to leave ship by a -shore-boat on Sunday morning and inquire the way to the Parish Church. - -[Illustration: KINGSTON, JAMAICA, FROM THE BAY] - -Shortly after we had dropped anchor in Kingston Harbour, early on -Saturday, we saw the rector of the English Church being rowed through -the crowd of fruit-boats, which were bobbing about us like so many -brilliant birds; but it was with considerable difficulty that he was -finally enabled to reach the ship, so strenuous were the black -fruiterers to give their wares the best possible showing. They were -well worth the showing, too, for such masses and varieties and colours -were a marvel indeed, even in the tropics. The shaddocks were as big as -melons, and the tangerines, measuring some fifteen inches in -circumference, were dyed as deep a yellow as the colour sense could -grasp, and piled in great, heaping baskets, were watched over by -beflowered negresses, who sat motionless in the boats, except for their -great rolling eyes. - -The oranges of Mandeville, Jamaica, were well known to us through the -accounts of former travellers, but no description had ever brought a -suggestion of the true radiance of the Jamaican fruit as it shone forth -that brilliant morning. After one look, the little girls ran down to the -stateroom for the St. Thomas basket, to fill it to the very handle-tip -with luscious tangerines. And while they scampered off with the basket -brimful, the lid pressed back by piles of tender, yellow beauties, a -strange boat-load of new passengers blocked the way once more for the -good priest, and he leaned patiently back in his boat, as if he knew -that to protest would be of no avail. - -The newcomers were two enormous live sea-turtles which the fishermen -hauled up the gangway by a stout cable. The turtles groaned and puffed -and flapped, and the little girls wanted them turned on their legs just -to see what would happen; it would be such fun to ride a-turtle-back. -And Wee One says, "Why, Mother! They are just like 'John the Baptist,' -our pet turtle at home, only lots and lots bigger. I wish they'd turn -over." But the sailors had evidently handled turtles before, for they -were left on their backs and were--after having been duly wondered -at--dragged down the deck out of sight, to reappear again in stew and -_fricassee_, not in steak as the Jamaicans serve them. But Sister -laments. She and Little Blue Ribbons wanted to see the turtles run. -"Mother, if they had only been right side up we could have helped turn -them on their backs just like the 'Foreign Children' Stevenson tells -about,-- - - "'You have seen the scarlet trees - And the lions over seas; - You have eaten ostrich eggs, - And turned the turtles off their legs.'" - -[Illustration: RIO COBRE, NEAR SPANISH TOWN - -Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Meanwhile, as the way clears, the priest reaches the ship, and is soon -lost among the crowd of passengers who are waiting for the first boat -ashore. - -All of Saturday, we wandered about the dusty, uninteresting streets of -Kingston, waiting for the great impression. But it didn't come. We were -ready and willing to admire the beautiful, but it did not appear. -Kingston was even more unattractive than Port of Spain, Trinidad; -dirtier, hotter, and in every way dull and uninteresting. Had it not -been for the Blue Mountains, against which Kingston leans, and the -glorious old Northeast Trades which fan her wayworn features, and for -the sea at her feet, we could not have forgiven her frowsy appearance. -The whole place had a "has been" air, with unkempt streets, and low, -square, dumpy-looking houses, facing each other like tired old tramps. - - -II. - -In order to form a just estimate of the Englishman's work and methods in -Jamaica, one must leave Kingston, and take to the roads outside, for -example that one along the Rio Cobre which winds in and out among the -mountains in a most enchanting course. This particular drive of eleven -miles, called the "Bog Walk Drive," leads to a little settlement called -"Bog Walk." It is to be hoped that there was at one time some excuse for -this name, but as bogs do not disappear in a day, it must have been in -quite a distant past that the name had any real significance. We saw no -suggestion of a Bog Walk, although actively on the alert for it. We had -uncertain anticipations of having to scramble over wet and oozing turf, -and one of us, without saying a word to any one else, tucked a pair of -rubbers into a capacious basket. But the rubbers stayed right there, for -there was no bog, nor any suggestion of one,--funny way these English -have of naming things! - -And speaking of names,--well, there never was a place--except other -English colonial towns--where the good old British custom of naming -houses is more rampant than in Kingston. Had the houses of some -pretension been so labelled, it might not have seemed so strange; but, -no, every little cottage had a name painted somewhere on its gate-post, -and very grandiloquent ones they were, I assure you. No two-penny -affairs for them! There was "Ivy Lodge" and "Myrtle Villa" and -"Ferndale" and "Oakmere" and "The Hall," tacked on to the wobblety -fence-posts of the merest shanties. And yet, in spite of their apparent -incongruity, there was a sort of pitiful fitness in those names. It was -a holding-on, in a crude way, to some half-forgotten ideal of the old -English life. It might have been a memory of the far-away mother -country, left as the only legacy to a Creole generation; it might have -been the last reaching for gentility; who can tell what "The Hall" meant -to the inmates of that shambling roof. But for the "Bog Walk" there was -no reason apparent, and we did not waste a bit of sympathy on the -supposititious man who first sank to his armpits in what may have been a -bog. - -The Bog Walk road is wide enough for the passing of vehicles, and as -solid as a rock. The English in the West Indies--as elsewhere--have ever -been great road-builders. Now this bit of road--eleven miles long, as -smooth as a floor, as firmly built as the ancient roads of Rome--is part -of a great system of roads which extends for hundreds of miles -throughout the island, and these roads have been constructed with so -much care that, in spite of the torrents of tropical rain which must at -times flood them, they remain as firm and enduring as the mountains -themselves, seemingly the only man-made device in the West Indies which -has been able to withstand the ravages of the tropical elements. - -Jamaica is one hundred and forty-four miles long and fifty miles wide, -and its entire area is a network of these wonderful roads. Roads which -would grace a Roman Empire, here wind through vast lonely forests and -plantations of coffee and cacao, past towns whose ramshackle houses are -giving the last gasps of dissolution. Jamaica has evidently suffered -under the affliction of road-making governors, whose single purpose has -been to build roads though all else go untouched, and they have held to -that ambition with bulldog pertinacity. No one can deny the wonder of -the Jamaican highway. But whither, and to what, does it lead? Good roads -are truly civilisers, and essential to the good of a country, but there -must be a reason for their existence which is mightier than the way -itself. Had there been half as many forest roads in Jamaica as there are -now, and the money which has been buried in practically unused paths -put into good schools and the encouragement of agriculture, Jamaica -might to-day show a very different face. The most casual observation -tells us of vast, unreasoning waste of money on the beautiful island, -and one cannot but pity the patient blacks who have suffered so much -from the poor administration of their white brothers. - -[Illustration: A NATIVE HUT - -Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -It was our pleasure to drive some distance on these hard turnpikes, and -in miles we met but one conveyance of any kind, and that was a rickety -old box on wheels, carrying a family of coolies to Spanish Town. - -This place out-Spanished any Spanish town we had ever seen in filth and -general dilapidation. It was simply a lot of rambling old shacks, -huddled together under the long-suffering palms--dirty, forlorn, -forsaken, never good for much when young, and beyond redemption in its -puerile old age. Down through these haunts of the half-naked blacks, -there sweeps a road fit for a chariot and four. Diamond necklaces are -queenly prerogatives, and the proper setting for a royal feast; but, -thrown about the neck of a starving child, they are, to say the least, -out of place. Nothing can be more entrancing, when perfect of its kind, -than either diamonds or children, but they do not belong together. It -may be, that, when the child is grown, circumstances will make the -wearing of such a necklace a graceful adornment, but, until that time -does come, the child's belongings should be those of simple necessity, -all else being sacrificed to the normal growth of body and mind; let -this be once well under way and adornments may follow. Jamaica has given -her children a diamond necklace, and, although magnificent and -wonderful, it is out of place, and the worst of it is, the children have -had to pay dearly for it. - -What Jamaica would have been under wise and prudent management, and with -a different racial problem, no one can say. She has certainly never been -lacking in resources, nor has she lacked amenable--though not always -desirable--subjects. But there is a hitch somewhere, and to find that -hitch would take a long unravelling of a torn and broken skein, the kind -of work few care to undertake; but it is the work which must be done if -Jamaica is ever to have a future. - -[Illustration: THE BOG WALK ROAD, NEAR SPANISH TOWN - -Jamaica] - -Dusty and hot and still wondering where the "Bog Walk" would appear, we -left the carriages for an inn which stood close to the road. It was -somewhat--no, I should say much--above the average Jamaican house, -passably clean, just passably, and in a way rather inviting to the -traveller who is glad enough to go anywhere, where he can be satisfied, -if he is hungry and tired. But the house was not what I wanted to tell -you about; it was the _grande dame_ within, who played the indifferent -hostess. We did not see her as we ran up-stairs to the upper balcony; it -was well after we had sipped our rum and lemonade--for we did sip it; we -not only sipped it, but we drank it, and it was fine, and we felt so -comfortable that, when she--_la grande dame_--appeared, it never -occurred to us to express our disappointment over the Bog Walk; we just -agreed with her in everything she said, and felt beatific. I think we -would have agreed with her even without the rum and lemonade, for she -had an air about her that made one feel acquiescent. She was tall and -angular. Her features were as clean-cut as though chiselled in marble; -she was clearly Caucasian in type. Her lips were thin, her nose was -aquiline, and her mouth had a haughty, indifferent curve, suggesting a -race of masters, not slaves. But her skin was like a smoke-browned pipe, -and her hair was glossy, and waved in quick little curves in spite of -the tightly drawn coil at the back of her stately neck. She was dressed -in the fashion of long ago, with a full flounced skirt and a silk shawl. -She sent her menials to wait upon us, although I noticed that, in spite -of herself, she was taking an interest in the strangers. - -The Madame went before, and we followed, through the ever-open door of -the West Indian home. The Madame's skirts swept over the uneven -threshold, over the bare, creaky floors, and her noiseless feet led the -way into a past, rich in romance and disaster. The Madame had little to -say; she just glided on before us like a black memory. Here on the bare, -untidy floors were the Madame's treasures; treasures she used daily, for -the table was spread (the Madame served dinner there just the hour -before). Here was a table of Dominican mahogany with carved legs and -oval top, and there on the sideboard was rare old plate, and quaintest -pieces of Dresden china and Italian glass glistened as it once had done -near the lips of its lordly master. The side-table of mahogany gave out -a dull, rich lustre of venerable age, and there was a punch-bowl--silver, -and much used--and curious candlesticks with glass shades. Ah! The -Madame was rich. What a place, I thought, for a lover of the antique! - -In her bedroom hard-by, a massive four-poster reached to the ceiling, -and off in a dark corner there was an old chest, richly ornamented with -brass. In every room there were chairs and davenports in quaintest -fashion, all dull and worn and beautiful, while the billiard-room -outside was well filled by a massive old-fashioned rosewood -billiard-table whose woodwork, undermined by the extensive ravages of -ants, was fast falling in pieces. "Where has it come from?" we ask; and -she replies, with a lofty air, that her grandfather brought all these -over from England long, long ago. No doubt the Madame would have sold -any and all of it, and we caught ourselves wondering how we could get -one of those old pieces home. It really seemed as if we ought to buy -something, for the black Madame, towering above us, certainly expected -to make a sale. But we didn't buy; we just admired it all, and -particularly the Madame, and then we began again to try and think out -the dreary tangle. - -There was just one thing the Madame had which she would not sell, and -that was the one thing we wanted most: the story of that grandfather. -She was the _grande dame_; his history was sealed behind those -unfathomable eyes. She admitted only the patrician in her blood, not the -savage. The grandfather had left his stamp upon that face, but there was -that other stamp! Alas, the Englishman has sold his birthright in -Jamaica; he is selling it to-day, and what more hopeless future could -rest over a people than does this day over the island of Jamaica? - - -III. - -And now we are back in Kingston, the city. "How would it be for us to -leave Daddy here--he wants to be measured at the military tailor's for -some khaki suits--and run off down the street on the shady side, to what -seems to be a 'Woman's Exchange?'" The little girls, always ready for a -new expedition, take the lead, and for once we found a sign which was -not misleading. It proved to be a veritable Woman's Exchange, filled -with no end of curious specimens of native workmanship which had been -brought there for sale. Among the natural curios--to us the most -wonderful--was a branch of what is known as the lacebark-tree. The -botanist will have to tell you its real unpronounceable name. For us -"lacebark" answers very well, because we don't know the other, and have -no way of finding it out just now. Who ever thought of carrying an -encyclopedia in a steamer-trunk? I am sadly conscious that we even -forgot the pocket-dictionary. Please forgive us this time! But it was -the tree that interested us, not its name. Its fibrous inner bark (much -like the bark of our Northern moosewood) is made of endless layers of -lacelike network, which can be opened and stretched a great width, even -in the bark of a bit of wood an inch and a half in diameter. These -layers of lace are separated and opened into flowerlike cups, with rim -upon rim of lacy edge, all coming from the one solid stick of wood, or -carefully unrolled into filmy sheets of net-like tissue. The native -whips are made by taking long branches of this tree, scraping off the -brittle outer bark, opening the inner fibrous bark, and braiding the -ends into a tapering lash as long as one wishes. Hats are trimmed with -scarfs of this dainty woodland lace, and even dresses are said to be -made from this cloth of the forest, which rivals in loveliness the -fairest weaving of Penelope. - -The gracious woman in charge told us that, while the Exchange was -self-supporting, it owed its existence to the liberality of an American -girl, who had many years ago married an English nobleman. And it made me -glad to think that our glorious American women had, with all their -foolish love for titles, a generous hand for woman the world over, and -that, wherever they wandered, their ways could be followed by the light -of their liberality. In a way, the Exchange--founded by an American -woman--made us forgive much in Kingston; so, when we took the street up -to the Myrtle Bank Hotel, expecting from its name to find a sweet, -delicious caravansary, embowered in myrtle green and magnolia, and -found the "Myrtle Bank" an arid sand beach, with a large, -self-sufficient modern hotel built therein, we still forgave, because we -said we would for the sake of that dear American girl who couldn't quite -forget. - -And then, too, the Doctor met us straight in the doorway; not the newly -made Philadelphia doctor. No, not that one; it was the other one, the -Northeast Trade, the million-year-old West Indian Doctor. Do you suppose -he is as old as that? Yes, even older. But, for all that, he's as -faithful to his trust as though but yesterday he had slipped from out -the wrangling of chaos. So we kiss the Doctor, and run up after him into -the big, spacious parlour of the Myrtle Bank Hotel, drop down into a -delightful rocker, and think it all over. - -Here we are in Kingston, owned by the English, governed by the English, -bullyragged by the English,--but where is he, the Englishman, where the -Englishwoman? To be sure, we found some white faces in the shops, and we -remembered seeing a few fair-haired, sallow little girls. And we saw on -the street, just as we left the Exchange, an Englishman with a golf-bag -on his shoulder; but these were the landmarks only--the exception. The -people we saw were of all shades of a negro admixture, and some very -black ones at that. - -But the Myrtle Bank Hotel was not the place for such reflections. At -least, so the good Doctor seemed to think, for he had no sooner brought -us under the magic of his presence, than we were carried into the most -affable state of contentment with all things visible, and it was not -until the next morning that the question fully dawned upon us in its -true significance. - - -IV. - -[Illustration: WHERE WE LANDED - -Kingston, Jamaica - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -I suppose we might have walked from the boat-landing to the Parish -Church embowered in its palms a few blocks away, but even that short -distance was exaggerated by the early hot glare of the sun. The -Northeast Trade was taking his morning nap, and the air was utterly -motionless. So Daddy hails a cab, and we rumble off in the direction of -some ringing bells. The town, as we drove along, had the dead look of an -English Sunday morning; there were few people visible, and those we -saw were evidently following the bells, as we were. Back of our desire -to go where the face of the priest was leading us, there was a hope -that, in attending an English church, presided over by a white, English -priest, we should there see the representative people of Kingston, the -white owners of the island. This church was one of the few beautiful -sights in Kingston. Truly, some good priest of the olden time must have -planned with lingering touch the graceful garden which so lovingly -enshrined the venerable spot. An avenue of palms, singing their silvery -song all the long day, skirted on either side the wide stone walk to the -entrance, and bent their long, waving arms very close to our heads as we -stepped within the doorway. The church, as an ancient tablet indicated, -was built in the latter part of the seventeenth century. It followed the -sweet lines of the English cathedral, built from time to time, as one -could readily observe from the varying indications of age in the -structure itself. - -We were early for the service, for the second bell had not rung. The -priest met us at the door. He was a man of ripe years, with close-cut -whitening hair, and a face that one would always remember. It was framed -in strength and moulded by the love of God. There was in it that -indefinable beauty which comes from a sacrificial life, from a life -breathed upon by the spirit of holiness and quiet. There were no lines -of unrest there; the poise of divine equilibrium was his living -benediction, and we followed him down the stone aisle, over the memorial -slabs of the departed great buried beneath, to a seat just the other -side of a massive white pillar, midway between open windows on one side -and an open door on the other, where the grateful breeze, now faintly -rustling the palms without, swept in upon us in delicious waves. - -We were placed quite well in front of the transept, and as we waited -there in the quiet old building, I began to make a mental estimate of -just where the different classes of Jamaican society would find -themselves. Here, where we were, would be the whites, and back beyond -the transept, the negroes, and in the choir, of course, the fair-haired -English boys. Then the old bell began to ring again, and a few of our -fellow voyagers came in and took seats in front of us,--notably Mr. and -Mrs. F----, who had been the guests of the priest the day before. The -church was filling. The owners of the seat in which the priest had -placed us arrived, and we were requested by a silent language, which -speaks more forcibly than words, to move along and make room. In the -meantime, the pew was also filled from the other side, and in the same -dumb language we were requested to move back the other way. Thus we were -wedged in closely between the two respective owners of the seat. And -they were not white owners,--they were black, brown, yellow--but not -white. The church filled rapidly. It filled to the uttermost. Mr. and -Mrs. F----, in front of us, were obliged to separate, for, when the -owners of their seat arrived, they simply stood there until Mr. F---- -was forced to leave his wife and crowd in somewhere else. The pew-owners -were the rightful possessors, and the white man or the stranger -apparently of little consequence. There was every conceivable shade of -the African mixture. The choir was made up partially of black negresses, -partially of yellow girls, with men of all hues besides, and the whole -congregation in this Church of England was similarly mixed, with the -black blood strongly predominant. I saw, outside of our party, only one -Englishwoman and one Englishman, and a few about whom I was doubtful, -and those were all. The blacks were very far from being the true type of -African. In some cases, there would be the negro face in all its -characteristics, with one exception, and that would be the oblique eyes -of the Chinese. There were Japanese negroes, and Chinese negroes, and -English and French negroes. It was a horrible mixture of negro with -every other people found in the island, with the negro in the ascendant. - -I saw no marks of deference paid to the white strangers; they were -placed in the same position in which a negro would find himself in a -Mississippi gathering of white people. If you have ever witnessed the -enthusiasm with which the negro is welcomed in such places, you can -understand our position that day in Jamaica. We had been told of the -contempt in which the white man is held in Haiti, and, not having -experienced it, were disinclined to believe such an abnormal state of -things. But, here in Jamaica, without ever having been informed of -the state of society, we felt it as plainly as if it had been emblazoned -on the sign-boards. We were not welcome and we felt it. We were out of -our element. - -[Illustration: EL MORRO, ENTRANCE TO HARBOUR - -Santiago de Cuba - -Copyright, 1901, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -The people were all well clothed,--many in elegance. The most of them in -white and black; court mourning for the queen. - -And then the grand old service began,--that wonderful world-encircling -service of our old English Mother Church--always the same and always -sufficient--and it was all so strange,--the feeling I had about that -word "we." There was a slow dawning in my soul that never before had the -word "humanity" meant anything but a white humanity to me--a universal -love for black, yellow, chocolate, brown, saffron humanity had never -come fully into my consciousness. And, while I sat there in that vast, -black assemblage, the long, terrible past of Jamaica arose before me, -and, too, the doubtful future loomed up in gloomy outlines, and I -wondered what would be the outcome of it all. Where would the Englishman -be in another century in Jamaica? Would Jamaica revert back to the -Haitien type, or is some hand coming to uphold the island? It is far -from my intention to touch upon the political situation in -Jamaica,--especially as I don't know anything about it. I can only tell -you what I saw, and you can draw your own conclusions. All I can say is, -where is the white man in Jamaica? What is his position, and what has -brought him into his present deplorable condition? Has the white blood -after all so little potency? - -One needs but to glance at James Anthony Froude's masterful book, "The -English in the West Indies," in order to see the why and wherefore of it -all. His words have greater force to-day than even at the time of his -writing, for the course of events has more than justified his -predictions. - -Our opinions of the situation were wholly unbiased, for we did not read -Froude's account until long after, so that our sensations, our -surprises, at the Jamaican English Church service, were wholly original. - -[Illustration: THE PLAZA - -Cienfuegos, Cuba] - -The service proceeded through the prayers--our prayers--and then came -the sermon. I shall never forget the text. It was taken from that -masterpiece of Biblical literature, the thirteenth chapter of First -Corinthians: "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and -have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." - -The priest had been there for over thirty years, and he began: - -"Beloved in the Lord, my children!" And we, white and black, were all -his children. We were in a strangely reversed situation, for even the -good priest had the tawny hue of Africa faintly shining in his fine -face. No mention of colour distinction was made: but which of us was to -have the charity? Did it not seem that he pleaded for the white -man--that the stronger black should have more charity? Or was it for us -as well? And it seemed to me I realised for the first time the position -of our well-bred Southerner; and everything was jumbled and queer in my -mind as the priest spoke. And his beautiful strong face shone over the -people, and his voice quivered with a deep love, touching the raiment of -one who said, "Come unto me all ye"--all--all--all! The white arches -echoed back the pleadings, the commands, the love, while in quiet -eloquence he told of One who set his face steadfastly toward Jerusalem. - -The church emptied itself, and we were left with the priest, and the old -sunken tombs, and the sleeping organ, and the white light streaming -through the windows. And we wondered if we had yet learned what the -Master meant when he said: - -"Come unto me all ye--" - -[Illustration: THE GRAVE OF CERVERA'S FLEET - -West of Santiago de Cuba] - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -"CUANDO SALIDE LA HABANA" - - "I sometimes think that never blows so red - The rose as where some buried Caesar bled; - That every hyacinth the garden wears - Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head." - - -The dream days have come and gone. We have left historic Santiago with -its forts and battle-fields, and the beautiful harbour of busy -commercial Cienfuegos; we have skirted along the southern coast of Cuba, -Pearl of the Antilles, through the Yucatan Channel, into the Gulf of -Mexico, and now we are come to Havana, where countless voices call us in -every direction both day and night. - -And yet it is not of Santiago, the old _Merrimac_ lying in midchannel, -El Caney, or San Juan Hill that I am writing to-day--no, nor of the -wrecks of Cervera's fleet strewn in rocking skeletons along the coast. -No, those stories have long since been well told you--those tragic -stories of battle and death, gone now into the past with the echoes of -muffled drums and the shuffling feet of sick soldier boys, dragging -themselves home when the day of vengeance was over. No, it is not of -that I am writing, but of a day which I gave to you, O mothers of our -glorious marines! and I take it now from out the memories of those sunny -isles, a precious keepsake, that it may be yours for ever. - -You are known to me, yet I cannot speak your names. You are near to me, -yet the continent divides us. Your eyes speak to me, and yet, should we -meet, you would pass unrecognised. A universal love, a universal memory -has called you to me, and space cannot separate us. - -In this city of beauty, though alluring at every turn, there was one -pilgrimage, come what may, I would not fail to make. The Morro and -Cabanas might be slighted, but not that patch of green earth away over -the hill where the boys of the _Maine_ lie buried so near the waters -that engulfed them. - -[Illustration: WRECK OF THE MAINE - -Havana Harbour, Cuba - -Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - -Far from the city they rest, where none may trouble their deep slumbers. -Their only monument a bare worn path where thousands of those who loved -your boys and honoured their memory have trodden down the grass about -the lowly bed. - -It was a day as still as heaven, when in the City of the Dead I silently -took my way; and coming to their long home I knelt down in the moist -coverlet of grass and folding my hands looked up into the infinite depth -of the blue sky, which dropped its peaceful curtain so tenderly over -them. I seemed to stand upon a sun-kissed summit, from which I might -scan the whole earth. And it was from there, afar off, I felt the -yearning of your tears. I reached down to the earth and gathered some -humble little flowers which pitying had throbbed out their sweet souls -over the blessed dead; and I held them lovingly in my hands, and then -placed them within the leaves of a book, thinking that some day when we -should meet I would give them to you. And now they wait for your coming, -O mothers! I could give you naught more precious. - -Yes, the days have come and gone as all days must, and we shall soon -have left the Isles of Endless Summer. But so long as life lasts, their -radiance will enfold us, and when the day is done, we shall draw the -curtain well content, knowing that no greater beauty can await us than -this fair earth has brought. - -[Illustration: CABANAS, LA PUNTA, AND HARBOUR ENTRANCE - -Havana, Cuba - -Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.] - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -A MEMORY OF MARTINIQUE - - "La facon d'etre du pays est si agreable, la temperature si bonne, - et l'on y vit dans une liberte si honnete, que je n'aye pas vu un - seul homme, ny une seule femme, qui en soient revenus, en qui je - n'aye remarque une grande passion d'y retourner."--LE PERE - DUTERTRE, _writing in 1667_. - - -A few insignificant little photographs are lying on the desk before me. -Some of them are blurred; some of them are out of focus. They have been -for many months packed away among bundles of other photographs of a -similar character, moved from their corner in the library amongst the -books of travel, only to be occasionally dusted by the indifferent -housemaid and packed away again out of sight. - -Days come and days go, and things move on in uniform measure, and life -glides silently away from us, and one day passes much as does the day -before; and we plan and work and hope, and we build to-day upon the -assurances of yesterday and to-morrow; and, although we know that there -are times when love can be crushed out of a life, yet we base our hope -upon the eternal fixedness of love; and, although constantly face to -face with the mutability of all created things, we build upon the -eternal stability of matter. We hope by reason of an undying faith in -those we love; we build upon a belief in the immutability of the -everlasting hills; and we go on building and hoping until, with some, -there comes a day when the soul burns out, and the everlasting hills -crumble to ashes, and loving and building is no more, and there is never -loving or building again in the same way. - - * * * * * - -Much as we touch the sacred belongings of the beloved dead, do I now -bring forth from their lonely hiding-place the few photographs of St. -Pierre and the fascinating shores of Martinique, which we took last -winter, as we cruised through the Windward Islands. - -[Illustration: ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELEE BEFORE THE ERUPTION - -Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -Having but just read the terrible tidings from Martinique that St. -Pierre has been utterly destroyed by volcanic eruption, and the fair -island left an ash-heap, these one-time insignificant little pictures -become at once inexpressibly dear to me; and I have been sitting here -for a long, long time, looking first at one and then at another, with a -tenderness born of sorrow and love. - -Say what you may of the futility of a love which clings to places, it is -nevertheless a passion so deeply rooted in some natures that neither -life nor death seem able to cause its destruction. There is no reasoning -with love; it is born to be, to exist, and why we love there is no -finding out. Strange, this wonderful loving which comes to you and me! -Not alone the love we lavish upon God's creatures; upon father, mother, -sister, brother, husband, wife, and children, and the whole world of -humankind; but upon all of God's handiwork: His trees, His flowers, His -dear brown soil, His hills, His valleys, His broad, sweeping plains, His -high, loftily crested peaks, His lonely byways, where shy birds and -soft-footed beasts hold high carnival the livelong day. - -Beloved as are all of God's creatures, there are for each one of us a -few, a very few, souls without whom loving would seem to pass away. -Beautiful as is the great earth, there are chosen spots upon it for you -and for me, to which our thoughts revert with an infinite tenderness; -and were such sweet abiding-places suddenly to be blotted from the -earth, it would seem to us as though beauty had died for ever. - -Such a treasure-house was St. Pierre to me. In the midst of islands, -each rivalling the other in loveliness, Martinique had a claim for -homage which none other possessed. Its charm was felt even far out to -sea, as its lofty headlands, with terrible _Pelee_ looking over, struck -a bold pace for the lesser isles to follow. - -As we approached the still, deep harbour,--although the hour was late -for landing,--we were so permeated by the puissant fascination of the -place, that, against the protests of old wiseacres aboard, we -nevertheless took the first available small boat, lured into the arms of -St. Pierre by her irresistible summons. - -And what was that summons? Who can tell? - -[Illustration: ST. PIERRE AND MT. PELEE AFTER THE ERUPTION - -Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -The same hand beckoned us which has for generations been beckoning other -children of men; other children who have gone there to live and die -content; the same that beckoned old Father Dutertre hundreds of years -ago. Children's children have been born there, and have grown old and -withered, and have gone the way of all the earth, and _La Pelee_, the -giantess, has slept for generations, and the children had quite -forgotten that the day might come when she would awaken. _La Pelee_ was -slumbering, oh! so gently--so peacefully, that far-away night, when we -first wondered at her beauty--and we, too, forgot! For did not her -children say that she would never waken more? - -The soft, blue hills said, "Come!" The lonely peaks, beyond, said, -"Come!" And the little city waved its pretty white hand to us with -"Come!" in every motion; and the sweet-voiced creole lads, who rowed us -in, smiled, "Come!" and what could we do? - -And then, when we entered the little city, it was so snug and clean, and -it was all so different, so different. How can I explain it to you? -There was, as it were, a homogeneousness about the people which was not -apparent in the other islands. Here was a people whose sires had sprung -from the best blood of France, from a race of great men and women; here -the question of colour had been more harmoniously worked out; and we -felt at once that we were amongst those whose ancestors had learned, -through the streaming blood of kings and princes, the principles of -Liberty, Equality, and Justice. - -The people said, "Come!" and we answered, and long, long into the night -we were following the summons. - -Then it was that _La Pelee_ was fair, and she lay so still, so still, -that the children forgot--if they ever really knew--that very beautiful -women can sometimes be very wicked--only "sometimes," for there are so -many beautiful good women. - -But the children loved _La Pelee_; she was beautiful, and she took her -bath so gently, away amongst the clouds and mist of the morning. - - * * * * * - -As I look again in the unchanging photograph at the dark mountains and -the tiny white city, cuddled down by the sea, with its quaint -lighthouse and its old church, there rises a strange mist over my soul, -and a blur comes into my eyes, and I feel myself pressing the cold bit -of cardboard against my lips as I would the face of a beloved. - -[Illustration: RUE VICTOR HUGO BEFORE THE ERUPTION - -St. Pierre, Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -It comes to me that once again there has gone from my life for eternity -that which can never return; just as the whole bright world can be -changed into darkness by the passing out of a soul we love; and we know -that, however much we long for its return, it can never come back; that -from that hour we tread the way alone. The silent spirit takes up the -light, falters a moment at the door, turning, smiles sweetly upon us, -and is gone, and we are left in a dark room. Oh! the love that we -mortals lavish in this world of ours! - -There was about Martinique a sweetness, a translucent loveliness, an -unforgettableness which crept into the innermost fibre of my being. It -even seemed to creep into my blood and pulsate through my body with -every beat of my heart. - -I listen now to the memories of my soul, and hear again the sweet, soft -voices of the creole girls and the quick, noiseless tread of the -carriers of water, fruits, and cacao coming down from Morne Rouge, -coming from the tender shadows which droop caressingly about the feet of -slumbering _Pelee_. And I can hear the cool trickle of the water from -the half-hidden fountain in a cranny of the wall; and I hear the rush of -the stream down from the mountainside, over stones as white as milk. And -sweet, shy flowers hang over high walls and nod to me; and from green -blinds in low, white mansions, I hear soft young voices, whispering and -laughing. A youth passes, as the blind opens, and he laughs and goes to -the other side of the street to beckon, and, oh! there it is again--the -old story. - -And I go on and on, and I come to the _Riviere Roxelane_ where the women -are spreading their clothes to dry on the great rocks, and the river -tumbles along, and twists in and out with gentle murmurs, and the women -are washing and laughing. - -[Illustration: RUE VICTOR HUGO AFTER THE ERUPTION - -St. Pierre, Martinique - -Courtesy of Professor T. A. Jaggar, of the Geological Department of -Harvard University] - -And I go on to the palms, higher up, and some one brings me wild -strawberries from the cool mountains, and I sit down and pick them -from the basket and eat to my heart's delight; and I rest on the bridge, -so old, all covered with moss and flowers, and I look down into the -valley, where the city lies, and beyond where it dabbles its feet into -the blue sea. And the picture is framed in an oval of green, drooping -trees, and whispering vines, and deep-scented flowers. - - * * * * * - -It must have come--_the end_--just as the good priest was saying mass -down in the white church by the sea, and the creole girls had come from -the mountains with their sticks of palm--for salad--and had sold their -fruits in the market, and had gone with the fishermen to the good -priest; and the white church was crowded to the doors,--for the priest -was beloved, and the church had broad arms,--and the boys were chanting, -when--my God! where should the children escape? The fiery mountain back -of them and the deep sea before them and the air about them a sweeping -furnace! - -"Children! Children!" I seem to hear the clear, ringing voice of the -old priest. "I commit your souls to God. Amen, amen." - -The beautiful _Pelee_ burned out her wicked soul, the River Roxelane ran -dry, the dear, blue sky of morning was turned to hideous night, the -white city fell in blazing ruins, and now the everlasting hills lift -their scarred sides in grim desolation. - -THE END. - - - - -INDEX - - -Andes Mountains, The, 67, 84, 137. - -Aragua River, Venezuela, 145, 146. - -Bank, The, Caracas, 106-111. - -Blue Mountains, The, Jamaica, 197, 205. - -Bolivar, 95. - Statue of, 84, 87. - -Botanical Gardens, The, Martinique, 15, 20. - -Botanical Gardens, The, Port of Spain, 15-34. - Ceiba-Tree, The, 16. - Coffee-Tree, The, 24. - -Cabanas, Havana, 240. - -Caracas, Venezuela, 64, 68, 73, 77, 79-124, 130. - Bank, The, 106-111. - Cathedral, The, 84, 87, 96-97, 103, 113, 118-120, 130. - Gran Hotel de Caracas, The, 80. - Gran Hotel de Venezuela, The, 81-84, 96, 114. - Market, The, 103, 106. - Military Band, The, 97-99. - Municipal Palace, The, 94-96. - Plaza, The, 117, 118. - Society of Caracas, The 122-124. - Square of Bolivar, The, 84, 87. - -Caribbean Sea, The, 36, 151, 153, 159, 193. - -Castro, Cipriano, 88-89, 96, 101, 121, 138, 152, 179. - -Cathedral, The, Caracas, 84, 87, 96-97, 103, 113, 118-120, 130. - -Ceiba-Tree, The, 16. - -Cervera, Admiral, 180-182. - -Cienfuegos, Cuba, 239. - -Coffee-Tree, The, 24. - -Curacao, Island of, 139, 154, 156, 159, 176-179. _See also Willemstad._ - -El Caney, Cuba, 239. - -Gran Hotel de Caracas, The, Caracas, 80. - -Gran Hotel de Venezuela, The, Caracas, 81-84, 96, 114. - -Great Venezuelan Railway, The, 139-142. - -Gulf of Mexico, The, 239. - -Gulf of Paria, The, 11, 64. - -Havana, Cuba, 239. - Cabanas, 240. - Morro, The, 240. - -Jamaica, Island of, 197, 208, 211-212. - Blue Mountains, The, 197, 205. - Kingston, 198, 205, 218, 221, 224-236. - Mandeville, 201. - Natives, The, 227-228. - Rio Cobre, 205. - Spanish Town, 211-212. - -Kingston, Jamaica, 198, 205, 218, 221. - Parish Church, The, 224-236. - -La Brea, Trinidad, 35, 42-59. - -La Guayra, Venezuela, 64, 68, 69-72, 78, 101. - -Lake of Valencia, Venezuela, 125, 145-146. - -Mandeville, Jamaica, 201. - -Margarita, Island of, 64. - -Market, The, Caracas, 103-106. - -Martinique, Island of, 248-264. - Botanical Gardens, 15, 20. - Mount Pelee, 255, 256, 263-264. - Riviere Roxelane, 260, 264. - St. Pierre, 248, 252. - -Military Band, The, Caracas, 97-99. - -Morro, The, Havana, 240. - -Mount Pelee, Martinique, 255, 256, 263-264. - -Municipal Palace, The, Caracas, 94-96. - -Natives, The, of Curacao, 160-163, 177-178; - of Jamaica, 227-228; - of Trinidad, 51, 56. - -Orinoco River, The, 11, 64. - -Parish Church, The, Kingston, 224-236. - -Plaza, The, Caracas, 117, 118. - -Port of Spain, Trinidad, 12. - Botanical Gardens, The, 15-34. - Queen's Park Hotel, The, 12-14. - -Puerto Cabello, Venezuela, 78, 101, 125, 126, 129, 136, 151, 154, 156. - - -Queen's Park Hotel, Port of Spain, 12-14. - -Rio Cobre, Jamaica, 205. - -River Tuy, The, Venezuela, 144-145. - -Riviere Roxelane, The, Martinique, 260, 264. - -St. Pierre, Martinique, 248, 252. - -San Juan Hill, Cuba, 239. - -Santiago, Cuba, 239. - -Society of Caracas, The, 122-124. - -Southern Cross, The, 189-191, 193, 196. - -Spanish Town, Jamaica, 211-212. - -Square of Bolivar, The, Caracas, 84, 87. - -Trinidad, Island of, 11, 16, 29. - Natives, The, 51, 56. - -Valencia, Venezuela, 101, 125, 126, 136, 146. - -Willemstad, Curacao, 154, 160-184, 187. - -Yucatan Channel, The, 239. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Gardens of the Caribbees, v. 2/2, by -Ida May Hill Starr - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDENS OF THE CARIBBEES, V. 2/2 *** - -***** This file should be named 43771.txt or 43771.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/7/7/43771/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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