HOUSE-BUILDING ANTS--ELLIE’S YOUNG OWLS--HENRY SAYS “ADIOS.”
Henry delighted in repairing to the bench under the zapote-trees in
the garden with his lesson-books, pretending that the quiet of that
retreat was conducive to mental application, but most of his time was
employed in watching the movements of certain large ants that had great
subterranean caves under his feet. The industrious little insects
were not compelled, like the historic ant, to lay up winter stores,
therefore their energies were spent in house-decorations. Their nests
were huge excavations, lateral galleries leading to roomy chambers. In
many places the ground for a considerable space was honey-combed with
their abodes. The apertures on the surface were so small and usually
concealed or protected by leaves that they were not visible, and
passers-by could scarcely realize that they were treading over myriads
of busy lives when they walked the carefully swept paths of the garden.
Henry, book in hand, would sit hour after hour on the bench, curiously
watching the march of long processions of these _hormigas_ issuing
from a minute, obscure hole in the ground, moving, with the regularity
and precision of trained troops, in a direct line to the base of a
small orange or pomegranate tree, that had already been ascended by
an advance corps, and which, with their sharp mandibles, they were
rapidly denuding of foliage. The small particles of leaves that fell
in showers to the ground were _shouldered_ in a position to utilize
the propelling power of any air in circulation, and the long, brown
retinue was rapidly converted into a fluttering green ribbon, threading
another route to their home. So wonderfully methodical and orderly
were they, that the little green sails were of uniform size, and the
returning legions marched without a straggler. Henry, boy-like, amused
himself by placing obstructions in their pathway. If only a stick, they
boldly trudged over it; if a stone or some seemingly insurmountable
barrier, the whole army halted in line, while a few scouts went forward
to examine the enemy’s works and report; frequently a _détour_ was
decided upon, to fall into line again as soon as practicable. These
fresh, green leaves furnished their houses with not only floor but wall
decorations. Repairs completed, the colony retired behind their gates,
and there remained in peaceful seclusion until the nests required
renovating. Then all the withered _débris_ was laboriously brought to
the surface, scattered broadcast, and everything within made ready
for new furnishing. There was frequently cause to complain of their
depredations. They destroyed or bodily removed the seeds of certain
vegetables as often as they were deposited in the ground, and the young
sprouts of many others when they appeared above the surface. They
made their excavations through the fields also, but their presence
resulted in no injury to the cane. Our merchant, Don Anastasio, assured
me that in some parts of the island these insects were so numerous
and destructive that their nests frequently extended beneath the
foundations and undermined large stone houses, rendering them so unsafe
that the buildings had to be abandoned!
Great excavations were made with spades down into the recesses of the
ants and the places filled with fire and brimstone, but even these
violent measures seemed to make no appreciable diminution in their
numbers, though millions must have been destroyed; in a week or two
they were as numerous and destructive as ever. The dainty little
_tomiguins_, that flew like canaries all about the garden, fearless
as birds become that are never molested, often pierced an orange with
their sharp little bills and extracted the juice; then a corps of
_hormigas_ followed and robbed it of the pulp; so an orange, “fair to
see” as it hung in its golden beauty among the clustering green leaves,
was often light and deceptive as a toy balloon.
Henry’s love of the whole animal kingdom was gratified in some
measure by a choice collection of gay-plumaged birds that he kept in
cages made of the delicate twigs of the _caña brava_ (wild cane).
Our friendly neighbors were constantly adding to the number, and one
end of the veranda was devoted to his pets. Don José sent him a cage
of ring-doves, whose mournful cooing always reminded my homesick
husband of the days when he was a boy in a Western clearing. To these
the generous Don added a number of pure white Guinea-fowls, and a
pair of rabbits; the latter we colonized on the mountain, but they
did not possess the agility of the _jutias_, and the hungry _majas_
eventually destroyed them. It had been Henry’s desire to find a nest of
the beautiful veiled owl, and secure the young, which he hoped to be
able to tame. The marquis had maintained an ominous silence regarding
the pair promised Ellie, though doubtless he made every effort to
compass their capture. One day, however, a _guajiro_ whose services
had been enlisted, presented himself, the fortunate possessor of two
very young birds which he desired to offer to the señorita. Almost
naked of plumage, with heads of abnormal size, and great, bulging
eyes, they were, of course, very unattractive; but the full-grown owl
is so handsome that Ellie eagerly accepted the gift, and used every
effort to tame them. As they grew, they became so vicious and snappish
that she found it hazardous to approach, even with caresses. No downy
white feathers appeared; they were long-legged and skinny, and Henry
began to ask Ellie if it was not time for her owls to put on their
veils and conceal their nakedness! Don Ruano called one morning, on
business bent, and seeing the forlorn birds with blinking eyes and
drooping heads, their legs tied with long strings to the banisters of
the veranda, innocently inquired of Henry what we intended to do with
those buzzards! Ellie, who had already dawning suspicions of their
genuineness, was horrified, and the dejected creatures were removed by
Zell, who “’low’d he know’d all de time dem was buzzards, or sum’thin’
wuss.”
Scarcely a day passed that news was not brought our boy of some
attractive out-door sport. The discovery of a tree filled with
wild honey made from the flowers of the banana, orange, or other
fruit-trees, the most fragrant in odor, delicate in color, and
delicious in taste in the world, was sure to take him to the woods and
bring him back laden with spoils.
Permission having been tacitly given to use fire-arms, his gun was in
constant requisition, and excursions in search of game or adventure
were temptations hard to resist. With all these distractions, added to
the frequent calls of importance made upon Henry as interpreter and to
transact many minor details of business, it became evident that there
were too frequent interruptions to render a continuous course of study
possible while living on the plantation. Naturally bright and studious
as he was, the necessity of the discipline and application enforced
by an academic course was too apparent to be ignored. When he was
fourteen we felt compelled to make the sacrifice, an unusually great
one, of parting from him. Lamo felt that it was hardly in the bounds
of possibility to spare the boy, who had been at our side through all
these vicissitudes, not only a dear son, but a valued assistant who had
become well-nigh indispensable, but there was no other alternative than
to send him to the United States to school.
In July he took a lingering farewell of all his boyish pets. His gun
was carefully oiled and put away, with injunctions not to let it be
disturbed. The little pet _tomiguins_ that had been trained to hop on
his finger and peck seed from his mouth, were set free in the garden.
The pigeons that flocked daily at the sound of his voice were called
and fed from a basket of rice for the last time. Old Mish, the cat,
that nestled in his arms every night, had a last nap in that cozy
embrace. The pony had his last gallop up the mountain, and Bob brought
the last wounded dove, at his young master’s bidding. To all the
neighbors he made farewell calls. The kind old priest in the village,
who was found sipping his _vino Colorado_, and playing cards with some
of his parishioners, when “Enrique” called to bid him _adios_, rose and
solemnly laid his hand upon the boy’s head and blessed him.
When the hour for departure arrived, he mounted his pony and galloped
down the avenue. Passing through the _Josefita_ plantation, he paused
at the hospitable house, where the tender-hearted Caridad was found
waiting with tearful eyes and open arms to embrace him. Don Pancho
mounted the white stallion, already saddled at the door, and rode
by his side to the depot; while bluff, brawny McClocky, the Scotch
engineer, who had made so many helpful visits to Desengaño, threw
his old cap after him, shouting, “God bless ye, me boy!” A goodly
number of _guajiros_, headed by Manuel and Pio, his companions in
many a woodland expedition and field-hunt, were already assembled at
the _paradero_. Henry had endeared himself to all classes. Full of
enthusiasm for boyish sports and adventures, he was the _beau-idéal_ of
every _guajiro_. “_Adios! Enrique!_” “_Adios, amigo mio!_” echoed again
and again through the air, as the cars rumbled off from the depot, and
a last glimpse was had for a long time of his home surroundings--a home
that was ever strange to us, but the home of the boy’s childhood, was
very dear to him. How desolate it became after his departure he never
knew.