CHAPTER VI.

THE QUARTERS.

AFTER a little rest in the garden, the children started out once more.

This time they chose to walk, taking Lucia's big dog with them for

company.

Even before they started, they could hear the sound of drums and

shouting and laughter coming from the quarters. They did not have far

to go before they came upon a crowd of black children. The boys were

having a game of ball. It was so confused it would be hard to describe

it. It certainly could not be called baseball, nor anything like it.

And here were the cabins, built close together. Cocoanut and mango

trees shaded the little huts. Near each one was a small garden where

the people raised the vegetables they liked best. Okra was sure to be

seen here, for what old mammy could be satisfied with her Sunday dinner

unless she had some of this delicious plant in at least one of the

dishes? Here also was the chicota, much like our summer squash, and

corn, on which the pigs must be fattened.

As for fruits, there were custard-apple and sour-sop trees, the

maumee, looking much like a melon; besides many other things which

grow so easily in the warm lands. Chickens were running about in every

direction, while there seemed as many pens with pigs grunting inside as

there were cabins.

How happy the people all seemed! That is, all but a baby here and there

who had been forgotten by his mother and was crying to keep himself

company as he sprawled about on the ground. And how grand the women

thought themselves in the bright red and yellow bandannas wound around

their heads!

You may be sure that all of the jewelry the people owned was worn that

day. Maria could not help smiling at one young girl who had immense

rings in her ears, three chains of glass beads around her neck, heavy

brass rings on her fingers, and broad bracelets that clinked together

on her arms. She strutted around as proudly as the peacocks near by.

They are handsome birds, but very vain and silly, like this poor black

girl who seemed to admire herself so greatly. She tossed her head from

side to side as she got ready to lead the dance.

The drummer bent to his work with all his heart; one pair of dancers

after another took their places, and moved in perfect time with faster

and faster steps. The crowd of bystanders watched them in admiration.

Under the shade of a mango-tree two black children were playing a game

of dominoes.

"What a nice set it is," said Ramon to his sister. "I am going to ask

them if they bought it. It must have cost quite a big sum for them to

spend."

The older of the two players heard Ramon's words. He looked up with a

proud smile that made his mouth stretch from ear to ear as he said:

"I made them all myself, little master. I got the wood from an

ebony-tree."

"But of what did you make the white points set into the dominoes?"

asked Ramon. "They look like ivory."

"I cut them out of alligator's teeth, little master. Now didn't I do

well?"

This was said with another broad grin and a big roll of his eyes that

made Lucia and Maria laugh in spite of themselves.

"Well, I should say so," answered Ramon.

"You deserve a medal. But can you read and write? A boy as smart as you

ought to go to school."

"No, little master. But that doesn't trouble me any. I don't need any

learning," was the answer. And no doubt the little fellow had no idea

but that he was as well off as any one need be. He could play in the

sunshine all day long and he had plenty of good food. Wasn't his mother

a fine cook, though! He was right in thinking so, too, for she could

make the nicest "messes" out of the herbs and vegetables growing in the

little garden behind the cabin.

There were melons and plantains in abundance; salt fish or jerked beef

to eat every day, and a long sleep at night on a straw bed in the

cabin. Oh, life was a lovely thing! And what should the little black

boy know of the cruel war and the Cuban children who had been driven

away from their homes? To be sure, he had heard sad stories in his

life, but they were about the old times when his people were brought

to Cuba as slaves. He had listened to his father's tales of slavery,

although he himself had been free ever since he was a little child.

The boy's grandfather was born far away in Africa where the sun was

always hot. He had lived a wild, happy life in his little village under

the palm-trees by the side of a broad river. As he grew up he hunted

the panther and the elephant, and made scarecrows to frighten away the

monkeys from the corn-fields. He was very happy.

But one day a band of white men took the village by surprise. They

took many other prisoners besides himself. The poor blacks were put in

chains and driven on board boats in which the white men had come to the

place.

Down the river they sailed, never more to see their little thatched

homes and have gay feasts under the palms. At last they came to the

great ocean, where a large vessel was waiting for them. As they were

packed away in the hold of the vessel, no notice was taken of their

cries except a lash of the whip, now and then, across their bare backs.

Then came the long voyage, and the dreadful seasickness in the crowded

hold of the vessel. Many died before the shores of Cuba came in sight.

But when those who still lived were able once more to stand on dry land

they were too weak and sick to care where they should go next.

In a few days, however, they found themselves working under masters on

the sugar plantations, and making new homes and friends among those who

were slaves like themselves.

The little domino player told Manuel that his grandfather worked so

faithfully that after awhile he was given a part of each day for his

own use. In this way he earned money enough to buy his own freedom

as well as his wife's. But he had children growing up who were still

slaves. He wished them to be free also.

Then came an order from the Spanish rulers that all the slaves should

be gradually given their liberty. But this was not till many years

after their black brothers in America had been set free by that great

man, President Lincoln.

Our Little Cuban Cousin · 第 6 / 12 章