Our Little Cuban Cousin
The Little Cousin Series
BY MARY HAZELTON WADE
_Ten volumes, illustrated_
[Illustration]
_PREVIOUSLY ISSUED_
=Our Little Japanese Cousin=
=Our Little Brown Cousin=
=Our Little Indian Cousin=
=Our Little Russian Cousin=
_NOW READY_
=Our Little Cuban Cousin=
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
=Our Little Philippine Cousin=
=Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
=Our Little African Cousin=
Each volume illustrated with six full-page plates in
tints, from drawings by L. J. Bridgman
Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover, per volume, 50
cents net. (Postage, 6 cents additional)
[Illustration]
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY,
New England Building, Boston
[Illustration: MARIA]
Our Little Cuban Cousin
By Mary Hazelton Wade
_Illustrated by_ L. J. Bridgman
[Illustration]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
_MDCCCCII_
_Copyright, 1902_
By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
Published, June, 1902
Colonial Press
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
Preface
LARGEST of all the fair West Indian Islands which lie in our open
doorway is Cuba. The great south doorway to the United States and all
North America, you know, is the Gulf of Mexico.
But recently, as we all remember, we have had war and bloodshed at this
doorway. The Spanish government, in trying to subdue its rebellious
province of Cuba, brought great hardship and suffering upon the Cuban
people, our neighbours, and our government at last decided that such
things must not be at our very doorway. So to-day Cuba is free, and the
great trouble of war is over and past for her.
Yet, though war no longer troubles the Cuban people, they have many
new hardships and difficulties to contend with, and need the friendly
help of their more fortunate neighbours scarcely less than before.
Now, in order that we may be able to help our friends and neighbours,
the Cubans, we must know them better, and surely we shall all feel a
stronger interest than ever before in their welfare. So we shall be
glad to meet and know our little Cuban neighbour, Maria.
We shall ask to have what Maria says translated for us, for most of us
do not understand the Spanish language, which Maria speaks. We must
remember, too, to pronounce her name as if it were spelled Mahreeah,
for that is the way she and her family pronounce it. Our Cuban cousins,
you know, like our cousins in Porto Rico, are descended from the
dark-eyed, dark-haired Spanish people. Their forefathers came over seas
from Spain to Cuba, as the English colonists came across the ocean to
our country, which is now the United States.
Yet we must remember that the Spanish people and the English people
are near akin in the great human family. They both belong to the white
race; and so we shall call our black-eyed little neighbour our near
cousin. Welcome, then, to our little Cuban cousin!
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. DANGER 9
II. THE PICNIC 17
III. LEGENDS 29
IV. NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOURS 37
V. SUGAR 45
VI. THE QUARTERS 53
VII. HOME AGAIN 61
VIII. STARTLING NEWS 64
IX. FIRST YEARS IN THE NEW WORLD 72
X. THE MERRIMAC 81
XI. VICTORY 90
XII. HAVANA 97
List of Illustrations
PAGE
MARIA _Frontispiece_
"'I COUNTED THREE DIFFERENT FORTS OF THE ENEMY'" 21
"THEY SAT BACK IN THE LOW, BROAD SEAT" 39
"THE MACHINES MADE A STEADY, GRINDING SOUND" 50
"'IT IS LIKE A BIG LIZARD'" 76
"THE AMERICAN FLAG WAS WAVING AND PEACE RULED IN THE LAND" 100
Our Little Cuban Cousin
CHAPTER I.
DANGER.
"MARIA! Maria! Maria!" was the low call from some unknown direction. It
sounded like a whisper, yet it must have travelled from a distance. Low
as it was, the little girl dozing in the hammock in the lemon grove was
awake in an instant. She sprang out and stood with hands shading her
eyes, looking for the owner of the voice.
She well knew what it meant. Ramon was the only one who had agreed to
call in this way. It was a sign of danger! It meant, "The enemy are
coming. Look out and get ready." Shouldn't you think our little Cuban
cousin would have trembled and cried, or at least run for protection to
her mother?
Maria was only nine years old. She was a perfect fairy of a child,
with tiny hands and feet and soft black eyes. But she was used to war
by this time. She never knew when she went to sleep at night but that
her home would be burnt down by the cruel Spaniards before the end of
another day.
Ramon got up before sunrise this morning. He had been away from home
for several hours. He had gone out in the country "to look around," as
he said. From his own front door the burning roofs of the houses of old
friends not a mile distant could be seen the night before. The Spanish
troops must be near. Who could say but that the boy's own home would
suffer next?
He was tall and active, and he longed very much to help his people.
They had suffered much from their Spanish rulers and now they were
working hard for freedom. But Ramon's father had been ill for a long
time. He was growing weaker every day. The boy's mother looked very sad
at times. Her eyes filled with tears when she said:
"My dear boy, you must not leave us now. Your duty lies at home. You
must be your father's right hand and protect your little sisters and
myself."
The Diaz children lived in a cosy little home in the country. It
was only a few miles from Havana. Their father had a small sugar
plantation. He had been able to raise enough sugar to buy everything
the family needed until lately. But now times were very hard. It was
not easy to sell the sugar; besides this, the good man and his family
were in constant danger.
What had they done? you ask. Nothing. They did not love their Spanish
rulers, to be sure, and they believed their countrymen were fighting
justly to free their beautiful island home. They would help these
countrymen, or insurgents, as they were called, if they had a chance.
But Maria's father had never, himself, fought against the Spaniards. He
was a quiet, kindly gentleman, and he had no love for war. What did the
Spaniards care for that? They might say to themselves:
"This man has a pleasant home. He raises sugar. He may give food and
shelter to those daring Cuban soldiers. Then they can keep up their
strength and be able to keep up the fight against us all the longer."
So far Maria's home had been spared. Although many other houses near
her had been burned, hers stood safe and unharmed yet. But "To-morrow
is another day," the child often repeated to herself, after the manner
of her people. That meant, "Although I am safe now, no one knows what
will come next." Then Maria would sigh for a moment and look sad. But
she was naturally merry and gay, and the next moment would be dancing
about and humming a lively tune.
What news was her brave brother bringing this morning? As soon as he
came in sight, Maria ran to meet him. The sun was very hot and the
little girl's head was bare, but she did not think of these things. The
Spaniards! The Spaniards! made the only picture she could see.
As soon as she was within easy call, Ramon told her that a company of
the enemy was only two miles away. He had been very close to them. He
had even heard them talking together while he hid in the bushes.
"Just think, Maria," he exclaimed, "they were laughing at the easy time
they would have in breaking our spirit. They said that before long
they would starve us into giving up. I rather think they won't. Do you
know, Maria, I believe God will send us help if we are only patient.
The Americans live so near us, I don't see how they can help taking our
part, when they know the way we are treated. But come, we must hurry
and tell father the news. He will know what we ought to do to get ready
for a visit to-day."
The children hurried to the house, and soon every one was in a state
of the greatest excitement. When Señor Diaz was told of the approach
of the Spaniards, he said, in his gentle voice, "We would best have a
picnic."
The children looked greatly astonished at the idea of a picnic at such
a time, but their father went on to explain. He had often thought of
the coming of the Spanish troops. He had made a plan in case he should
hear of their approach. The house should be locked up; all the family
should go down to the shore of a small lake a quarter of a mile back
in the woods. The path that led to this lake was so hidden that a
stranger would not know it was there. Ramon could lead the oxen; the
father thought that he was strong enough to guide the horse to the
picnic-ground.
If the Spaniards found no one about the house, and no animals worth
capturing, they might possibly pass by without doing any harm.
Señora Diaz and old black Paulina got a hasty luncheon ready. Maria
said she must certainly take her sewing materials, for she was going to
embroider some insurgent emblems. Her little sister, Isabella, carried
her pet kitten in her arms, and cried because the parrot must be left
behind.
"He'll be so lonesome," she said; "and I just know he'll call
'Isabella' all day long."
The dear little girl cried hard, but everybody's hands were so full
that Mr. Poll was left in the house. A big linen cloth was stretched
over the cage. If kept in the dark, he would probably be still, and not
attract the attention of the soldiers, if they stopped and looked in.
The black man servant, Miguel, stayed behind to shut up the chickens in
barrels, but would follow the rest of the party in a few moments.
The path led in and out through the beautiful southern woods. There
were cocoanut-palms and ebony and mahogany trees, while underneath were
creeping vines and bushes, making a close thicket of underbrush. There
was no talking. The family crept along as quietly as possible, lest
they should be heard and followed. For by this time the enemy must be
very near.