STARTLING NEWS.
IT was a pleasant evening in February. The children felt gay and happy,
for their father was getting so much stronger. Why, this very day he
had walked with them a mile in an excursion to a cave. Miguel had told
them such wonderful things about it, they begged their father to take
them there. Although they lived so near, they had never happened to
visit it before.
When they reached the spot, they were obliged to crouch down in order
to enter the cave. The opening was merely a small hole between the
rocks. But, as they crept down under the ground, the passage grew
wider, and led into a large room.
"Do you suppose Robinson Crusoe's cave was anything like this?" Maria
asked her brother.
But the answer was, "I don't think so; you know it was not beautiful.
And see here, Maria, look at those shining pendants hanging from the
roof. They are as clear as diamonds. Oh, look down beside your feet;
there are more of those lovely things; they are reaching up to meet
those coming from above."
"What makes them, papa?"
Señor Diaz then explained to the children that there must be a great
deal of lime in the rocks overhead, and that, when the water slowly
filtered through the roof of the cave, it brought with it the lime
which formed in these wonderful crystals.
"People pay great sums of money for precious stones," said their
father, "but what could be more beautiful than these shining pyramids!
The pendants hanging from the roof are called stalactites. Those
reaching up from the floor of the cave are stalagmites. Do you suppose
you can remember such hard words, my dear little Isabella? But come,
children, I have something else to show you here."
He led the children to a little pond, in which they could dimly see, by
the light of the torch, fish sporting about in the water.
"Those fishes are happy as can be, yet they are perfectly blind. I made
some experiments years ago that led me to discover it. You see how dark
it is. The creatures living here would have no use for eyesight, so
they gradually became blind. We can only keep the organs of our body in
good condition by using them."
It was no wonder the children enjoyed the day with their father, as
he always had so much of interest to tell them. This evening, as they
sat on the balcony, Maria was talking about the fish that lived in
darkness, when Ramon suddenly exclaimed:
"Look! look! the garden is fairly alive with lights. The cucujos are
giving us a display of fireworks. Let's catch them, and have some fun.
Except in the rainy season, it is not often that we see so many." He
ran into the house for a candle, and the three children were soon
chasing the cucujos along the walks.
The light of the candle attracted the insects, then it was an easy
matter to catch hundreds of them in a fine thread net. We should call
them fireflies, but they are much larger and more brilliant than any
insect we have ever seen.
As they floated along above the flowers, Maria said they always made
her think of fairies with their torch-bearers. The light was soft
and cloud-like, yet it was bright enough to show the colours of the
flowers, although the night was quite dark.
"Why not make a belt of them for your waists, as well as necklaces
and bracelets?" Ramon asked his sisters. "Then you can go in and show
yourselves to mother. You can tell her you are all ready for a party."
"All right," answered the girls. "But you must help us, Ramon."
How could the children do such things without hurting the beautiful
little creatures, we wonder. But they knew a way, as they had done them
before.
Each cucujo has a tiny hook near its head, which can be fastened in a
person's clothing without harming it in the least. Grown-up ladies in
Havana often adorn themselves in this way when going to a party. They
look very brilliant, I assure you.
It was not many minutes before Maria and Isabella were fairly ablaze
with lights. Then they danced into the house to be admired by their
parents.
"Now let's take them off and put them in those wicker cages you made
last summer, Ramon," said Isabella. "I'm sure the poor little things
are tired of hanging from our clothes. They must wish to fly around
once more. They will not mind being shut up in the cages for a day or
two, if we give them plenty of sugar to eat."
"All right, but I wouldn't keep them shut up long enough to make pets
of them," said her brother. "I cannot help believing they would rather
be free."
As he said these words, there was a step on the garden walk, and a
moment later a strange man stood in front of the children.
"Is your father at home?" he asked. "I have a message for him."
Ramon hurried into the house. Señor Diaz came out and spoke with the
stranger in low tones. When he went back into the sitting-room he
carried in his hand a piece of paper that looked perfectly blank. The
stranger had disappeared again into the darkness.
"What did the children's good father do with that paper?" you ask.
He went quickly to his desk and put it under lock and key. Nothing
could be done with it till the morning sun should light up the eastern
sky.
"Then what?" you curiously ask again.
If we could have watched Señor Diaz, we should have seen him go to his
desk once more, take out the precious paper, and go over it with a hair
pencil dipped in a bottle of colorless liquid.
After that, we should have seen Maria running with the paper to the
window, where the sun's rays would dry it quickly. Lo and behold!
writing began to appear which threw the whole family into a great state
of excitement. These were the words:
"The U. S. warship _Maine_ has been blown up. The Americans are
roused. They believe without doubt that the Spaniards are the doers of
the terrible deed. Victory shall be ours at last, for the United States
will now surely take our part against Spain."
There was no signature to the letter.
That very night Maria's household were wakened by a brilliant light
pouring into their windows. It came from the burning plantation where
Lucia had her home. When morning dawned there was no trace of a
building left on the whole place. No person was injured, however, but
Lucia and her parents went to friends in Havana. The rich planter had
become a poor man in a single night.
Who had set the fire? It was probably the insurgents, who had
discovered that the planter was a friend of the Spaniards and was
secretly working against the freedom of Cuba.