Our Little Cuban Cousin

by Mary Hazelton Blanchard Wade

  "We would best let her go back to her nest, now, my dears," said SenoraDiaz. "You can watch, Ramon, and find out when the baby birds hatch. Weshall all like to see them, I'm sure."

  They left the bush and turned back toward the lake. Ramon stoppedagain, however, when they came to a small lace-wood tree.

  "You know you asked me to get you some of the wood to trim your doll'sdress, Isabella. Here is a good chance to get it. I'll follow you in afew minutes."

  Ramon took out his knife, and soon the young tree was cut away from theroots. It would take some time to strip off the bark. It must be donecarefully and peeled off in one piece, so as to leave the pith of thetree quite smooth and whole. Several strips of delicate lace could beobtained from this pith. Now Isabella would be able to dress her dollin great elegance. She could ruffle the lace on the waist and flouncesof the doll's skirt and make it look as beautiful as though it cost agood deal of money. Isabella herself has a dress trimmed with the lace,but Paulina needs to be very careful when she irons it. It was growingdark when Ramon arrived at the shore with his tree.

  "We will go back now," said Senor Diaz, "and see if the soldiers haveleft us our home."

  All were soon making their way back to the house, which they foundunharmed. Nothing had been touched by the enemy. Perhaps they had notthought it worth while to stop. At any rate, there was great joy in theDiaz family that evening as they sat on the balcony, sipping cups ofhot sweetened water. The times were so hard they could not buy coffee,and _guaraba_, as they called it, was the next best thing. Maria isvery fond of it.

  The children were so tired from the day's excitement that by eighto'clock they were quite ready to go to dreamland. Isabella startedfirst. She went up to her father and, placing her tiny hands across herbreast, looked up into his eyes with a sweet, solemn look. He knew atonce what it meant. She was asking an evening blessing before leavinghim for the night. Every one in the room stopped talking; all bowedtheir heads while the kind father said:

  "May God bless my darling child, and all others of this household."

  Maria and Ramon followed Isabella's example, and soon the children weresound asleep. Isabella dreamed that she taught her loved parrot to say"Liberty," and was delighted at her success.

  CHAPTER III.

  LEGENDS.

  THE next morning it rained quite hard, so the children had to stay inthe house.

  "What shall we do with ourselves?" said Maria. "Oh, I know. We'll askfather to tell us stories."

  "What shall it be to-day?" he asked. "Do you want a tale of old Spain,or shall it be the life of Columbus; or maybe you would like a fairystory?"

  "A fairy story! A fairy story!" all cried together.

  "Very well, then, this shall be a tale that our people heard in Europea thousand years ago.

  "It was long before Columbus dreamed of his wonderful voyages acrossthe Atlantic. It was before people had even thought of the idea of theroundness of the earth. They had such queer fancies in those days. Fewmen dared to sail far into the West. They believed that if they did sothey would come into a place of perfect darkness.

  "Still they had one legend of a land across the Atlantic that was verybeautiful. Many of our greatest men believed in it. It was called theIsland of Youth, and people who reached it could live for ever, andnever grow old."

  "What made them think there was such a place?" asked Maria, withwide-open eyes.

  "They had heard that long ago there was a very brave young man. Hehad a wonderful horse as white as the foam of the ocean. Strange tosay, this horse could carry him through the water more safely than thestoutest boat. As he was looking for adventure, he started off on theback of his fairy steed to cross the ocean.

  "After he had travelled for some distance, he stopped to kill agiant who had enchanted a princess. When the giant was dead, and thebeautiful maiden was free once more, he travelled on till he came to aland where the trees were loaded with birds. The air was filled withtheir sweet music.

  "He stayed in this land for a hundred years. He was merry and gay allthe time. He was never ill, and never tired."

  "But wasn't he lonesome?" asked Ramon. "I should think he would wishfor other company besides the birds."

  "Oh, there were many other people there, of course, and as ourtraveller was fond of shooting, he had great sport hunting the deer.

  "But at last something happened to make him think of his old home andfriends. It was a rusty spear that came floating to the shore one day.It must have travelled across the ocean. The young man grew sad withlonging for the scenes of his early days. He mounted his white steedonce more, plunged into the ocean, and at last reached his own home.

  "But think, children. It was a hundred years since he had seen it. Hisold friends were all dead. The people seemed like dwarfs. I suppose hemust have grown in size and strength while away on the Island of Youth.At any rate, his own home was not what he expected to find it. He hadno wish to live longer. He lay down and died. The Island of Youth hadnot been such a great blessing to him, after all.

  "Another story used to be told in Spain of the Island of Seven Cities.It was a legend of our own Cuba, for all we know. People said that athousand years before Columbus crossed the Atlantic, an archbishop wasdriven away from Spain. Why was it? He was untrue to his king. Hesailed far from his country with a goodly company of men and women.

  "After a long voyage they reached a land which they called Antilla.There were people already living here. They were kind and gentle.

  "The archbishop divided the land into seven parts. He built churchesand other fine buildings. He got the natives to help him. All livedtogether in peace and happiness.

  "But look, children, the rain has stopped falling, and the sun isshining. You can go outdoors now, and amuse yourselves. Before youleave, however, let me ask you a question in geography.

  "Cuba is shaped like what animal? Think how long and narrow it is, andof the ridge of mountains running through the centre of the island. Iwill give you until to-morrow to guess the answer.

  "And, by the way, did you ever think that our home is really the top ofa row of mountains reaching up from the floor of the ocean? Ah, whatwonders would be seen in the valleys below us, if we could journeyunder the water, and explore it for ourselves!"

  Just as the good man stopped speaking, Miguel knocked at the door. Tworagged little girls were standing at his side. They were strangers.Where had they come from during the hard rain of the morning?

  It seemed that Miguel had been tramping through the woods after game.He did not care for the rain. He was a good-natured servant, and wasalways ready to make pleasant surprises for the family. When he wasabout four miles from home, he came upon an unexpected camp. There wereabout thirty people in it. There, on the mountainside, they had maderough huts to live in. There were not only men and women, but littlechildren, also. They had been here for two or three weeks.

  What a sad story they had to tell! It was the old story. They wishedto be peaceful; they did not join the army of the Cubans. Still, theymight possibly help them in some little way. But they did not go tothe great city. They fled to the woods on the mountainside. They keptthemselves from starving by gathering berries and wild fruit. Theirchildren were sent out every morning to the country homes which werenot too far off to beg for food and help.

  "Poor little children!" exclaimed Maria, when Miguel had finished hisstory. "We will help you all we can, won't we, papa?" And the child'seyes were full of tears, as she said:

  "We may be homeless like them, yet."

  Isabella ran to call her mother and ask her help. Clothing wascollected, and all the food the family could spare was put intobaskets. It was far too large a load for the little girls to carry, soRamon and Miguel went with them.

  "What a good servant Miguel is!" said Senor Diaz to his wife, afterthey were gone. "So many of the blacks are lazy, and only think oftheir own comfort. But Miguel is always good-natured and ready tohelp."

  CHAPTER IV.

&nbs
p; NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOURS.

  IT was a beautiful Sunday morning. The birds were singing gailyoutside. Maria opened her eyes. Perhaps she would have slept longer ifshe had not been wakened by a sound in the next room. It was Ramon whowas calling.

  "Say, Maria, what shall we do to-day while father and mother are goneto church? Let's go over to the plantation. You know we've been invitedever so many times, and it is such fun watching the men at work."

  "All right," said Maria, "but there's no hurry. We will wait till afterthe folks have gone before we start."

  Just beyond the home of the Diaz children was an immense sugarplantation. It covered at least a square mile of land. The rich planterwho owned it employed more than a hundred black men. It was cuttingseason now, and the work was carried on day and night, both Sundaysand week-days. Sunday afternoon, however, was a half-holiday, evenin the busiest time, and the black people then gave themselves up tomerrymaking, no matter how tired they were.

  "THEY SAT BACK IN THE LOW, BROAD SEAT"]

  By nine o'clock Senor Diaz and his wife had left home in theoddest-looking carriage you ever heard of. It was a _volante_. Thereis nothing like it anywhere else in the world. It looked somewhat likean old-fashioned chaise. It had immense wheels, and the shafts were atleast sixteen feet long.

  We think at once, how clumsily one must move along in such a carriage.But it is not so. It is the best thing possible for travelling over therough roads of Cuba. It swings along from side to side so easilythat a person is not bumped or jostled as he would be in any other kindof carriage. But one does not see many new volantes in Cuba now. Theyare going out of fashion.

  Senor Diaz was very proud of this carriage when it was new. It wastrimmed with bands of silver. It had beautiful silk cushions. Even now,the good man and his wife looked quite elegant as they sat back in thelow, broad seat. Isabella sat between them.

  Miguel rode on the horse's back as driver. He wore a scarlet jackettrimmed with gold braid. He had on high boots with spurs at his heels.He felt very proud. It made very little difference to him that his coatwas badly torn and the braid was tarnished. These were war-times andone could not expect new clothes.

  "If the people at the great house invite you to stay till evening, youmay do so," said Senor Diaz to his two older children just as he wasdriving away. "I know you will be gentlemanly, Ramon; and Maria dear,my little daughter will certainly be quiet and ladylike."

  Away swung the volante down the road, while Ramon and Maria put ontheir wide straw hats and started across the fields for the rich sugarplanter's home. They looked very pretty as they moved along under theshade-trees. Both were barefooted; Maria wore a simple white dress, andRamon a linen shirt and trousers.

  They reached their neighbour's grounds in a few minutes. They soonfound themselves in front of a large, low house with beautiful gardensand shade-trees around it. But of what was the house made? It was ofthe same material as Maria's home, yet we see nothing like it in ourown country. It was neither brick, nor wood, nor stone. Maria would sayto us:

  "Why, this is 'adobe,' and it keeps out the sun's hot rays nicely.Don't you know what adobe is? It is a mixture of clay and sand dried bythe sun. Some people call it unburnt brick. It was nearly white whenthe house was new, but now you see it is quite yellow."

  There was no glass in the window-cases. In such a warm land as Cubaglass would keep out the air too much, and the people inside wouldsuffer from the heat. But there were iron bars across the casements;there were also shutters to protect the house from the sun and rain.

  The children went in at the door, opened by a black servant. She lookedkind and pleasant, and showed two rows of white teeth as she smiled atthe young visitors. A gorgeous yellow bandanna was wound around herhead.

  "Come right in, little dears. Massa and missus will be glad to seeyou; little Miss Lucia has been wishing for company to-day."

  She led Ramon and Maria into a large sitting-room with two rows ofrocking-chairs opposite each other. They stretched nearly from one endof the room to the other. There was scarcely any other furniture.

  A minute afterward, Lucia opened the door. She was about Maria's ageand very pretty. But she was dressed like a grown-up young lady. Shecarried in her hand a dainty little fan, which she moved gracefully asshe talked.

  "Oh, I am so glad to see you," she cried. "But let us go out into thegarden; it is much pleasanter there; don't you think so? I want to showyou my sensitive plant. Did you ever have one?"

  Maria and Ramon had heard their father speak of this plant, but theyhad never happened to see one themselves. They followed Lucia out onthe balcony. A morning-glory vine was trailing up the trelliswork. Itwas bright with its delicate blossoms, pink and blue and purple. Closebeside it was the sensitive plant.

  "It came up of itself," said Lucia. "That is, you know, it was notplanted by any one. You see its leaves are wide open now. It is keepingthe morning-glory blossoms company. Perhaps they are talking together.Who knows? But when night comes it will close up in the same way as thepetals of its next-door neighbour."

  "Now, Ramon, just touch the leaves gently."

  "Why, it acts as if afraid of me, doesn't it?" said the boy. "See howit shrinks away, even before I take hold of it. I declare, it knowsmore than some animals."

  "Would you like to ride around the plantation? We have three ponies; soeach one of us can have one," said their little hostess.

  Her visitors were delighted at the idea. While a servant was sent forthe ponies the children sat down under a royal palm-tree. It stood atleast sixty feet high. Its trunk was perfectly straight. Far up at thetop was the wide-spreading plume of leaves. There were no branches atthe sides.

  "I just love this tree," said Lucia. "It seems so strong as well asbeautiful. Isn't it queer that the trunk of such a big tree should behollow?"

  "I think it queerer still that the roots should be so small and fine,"answered Ramon. "Did you ever eat what is found at the top of the royalpalm? Everybody says it is delicious."

  "Yes, we had it boiled once for a dinner-party," said Lucia. "It wasdelicious, but you know it kills the tree to take it off; so fathersays it is almost wicked to get it. I think he is right."

  CHAPTER V.

  SUGAR.

  BY this time the ponies had been brought up, and the young ridersstarted off.

  How high the sugar-canes stood! The children could not see over thetops, even from their ponies' backs. The long, narrow leaves hung downmuch like our own Indian corn. Far up on each plant was a featherywhite plume. The stalks were now a golden yellow colour. This wasMother Nature's sign that the cane was full of sap.

  At Maria's home the cane had been already cut and made into sugar. Butthere were only two or three fields. Here, on Lucia's plantation, therewere hundreds of acres. The men had been working for weeks already,and it was not yet half cut.

  "Oh, look, Ramon!" said Maria, "see that dear little black baby asleepbetween the canes. She can't be more than two years old. The otherchildren must have gone away and forgotten her."

  Ramon jumped down, and, picking up the little tot, lifted her up infront of him on the pony's back. She had been waked up so suddenly thatshe began to cry. But when the others smiled at her she rolled her bigeyes around, and soon began to laugh. She was going to have a ride withwhite children, and that was a grand event in her life.

  A turn in the rough road showed an ox-cart ahead. How small the Cubanoxen are! But they are such gentle, patient creatures, a child coulddrive them. How they pushed ahead with their heavy load!

  When they were young a hole had been bored through the centre of theirnostrils, and an iron ring was passed through. When the oxen wereharnessed a rope was fastened on each side of this ring. The blackdriver held the ends of the rope, and guided the oxen. He had no whip,for it was not needed.

  "Let's follow him up to the top of the hill," said Lucia. "He mustcarry his load to the boiler-house that way, and I do like to watch theoxen go down a steep place. There, see! The m
an will not even get off;he's perfectly safe."

  As the heavily loaded wagon passed over the brow of the hill, the oxensquatted down like dogs, and seemed to slide rather than walk, tillthey reached the foot.

  "Bravo!" shouted Ramon. "I'd trust such creatures anywhere. They oughtto be rewarded with a good supper to-night. And now that they havereached level ground see how well they trot along. These dear littleponies cannot do much better."

  The children still followed the ox-cart, and soon reached thesugar-mill. Immense machines were crushing the canes, and the sap wasflowing into great tanks from which it was afterward taken to be boiled.

  "What does the molasses come from?" you may ask. All Cuban childrenwould tell you at once that it is the drippings from the newly madesugar.

  Lucia's father does not sell his molasses, as do many other planters.He thinks it is not worth while. You cannot guess what use he makes ofit. His work-people spread it on the ground to make it richer for thenext year's crop.

  His wife does not think of having it used in cooking, either, asAmerican women do, and so Lucia has never tasted gingerbread in herlife. Perhaps you feel sorry for her. Never mind. She enjoys suckingthe juice from the fresh sugar-cane as well as the black children onher father's plantation; she has as much of this as she wishes, so shenever misses the molasses cookies and cakes you like so much.

  "Lucia, how is it your father keeps on having the cane cut?" askedRamon, as the children stood watching the sap boiling down to sugar."You know, don't you, a new law has been passed ordering the workstopped? It is all because the Spaniards are afraid that the poorinsurgents will get food and help from the sugar planters."