BEAUTIFUL OCTOBER--VIEW FROM THE MOUNTAIN--TERRIBLE
TEMPORAL--DEVASTATION.
October was upon us. The summer rains had ceased, the air was full
of the odor of fruit and fruit-blossoms by day, and overpowering,
when the shades of evening fell, with the fragrance of the brilliant,
white, night-blooming cereus, which flung its exuberant wealth of
golden stamens in prodigal profusion over the coral-rock fences that
bounded the grassy lawn. All nature that never donned a russet or
yellow coat, or dropped a withered leaf, bloomed forth in freshly
washed green. Vines, that had hung their heads under beating showers
for six months, took heart again, and ran riot over the fences, and
hung in long, tangled, graceful festoons from tree to tree, draping
the rocky mountain’s sides with curtains of verdure besprinkled with
gorgeous blossoms of crimson and gold; while aloft on the mountain-top,
in every tree nestled the beautiful dark-green parasites of the
tropics, hanging in clusters, here and there and everywhere; with the
overflowing abundance that Nature so lavishly provided in Cuba, there
was sustenance for all, so that the idle parasite, that had nothing to
do but exhibit its beautiful self, did not diminish the vitality of the
generous tree on which it feasted.
The rasping notes of the wild Guinea-fowl and the sharp whistle of
the quail were heard all through the cane-fields, where the long,
sweeping leaves had tenderly sheltered their nests, and now they were
coming forth with abundant broods. The tiny yellow _tomiguin_, with his
musical chirp, the brown _arriero_ (mule-driver), with his two long,
slender tail-feathers and his strident call; the gorgeously plumaged
_tocalor_ (every color), nestled in the mango-trees, swung upon the
slender branches of the mimosa, and flew joyously over our heads; while
the buzzards that we jestingly claimed were entitled to be emblazoned
on our coat-of-arms, as at least one was forever to be seen perched on
the arch at the end of the avenue, sailed in grand and graceful curves
over and above all.
The mountain-range that runs like a backbone through the length of Cuba
was only a quarter of a mile east of our dwelling, and a ride or walk
up the steep sides well repaid a lover of nature. From the summit there
spread before us an extended view of Oriental loveliness and exquisite
beauty. At our feet limitless cane-fields hung their light-green
leaves, topped here and there with erect torches of blossoming seed
that shimmered and glistened in the sun like molten silver. In the
distance, amid the intense green of fruit-trees and whole avenues of
kingly palms, towering chimneys of sugar-houses and groups of modest
buildings marked the domain of neighboring planters. Far off to the
right a broad expanse of still darker green revealed a coffee estate.
To the left a tiny church-spire surmounted by a white cross denoted the
village home of the captain and the _cura_, who exercised controlling
influence in all matters temporal and spiritual, considerately
relieving the docile population of that grandly beautiful country from
all responsibility in the present and the future. The cerulean dome,
scarcely flecked by a single fleecy cloud, stretching from zenith to
horizon, the gently undulating landscape, the soft, hazy, languid
atmosphere, the faint zephyrs redolent with perfume, suggested Arcadian
peace and rest.
September, which so often took a boisterous farewell, retired with
gracious smiles, and it seemed that every bird and bush felt safer when
she was gone; but September had left a legacy to the incoming month.
Almost imperceptibly the air became still, oppressive in its stillness;
not a leaf stirred in the topmost branches of the tall palms, whose
feathery summits danced and tossed in every breeze. They became as
painted trees on a painted landscape. Birds were to be seen restless
and flying aimlessly about; horses whinnied and stamped and pulled from
their halters under the shed where they were tied. Old Mish, the cat,
came mewing pitifully around and refused to be comforted. Dogs whined
and howled, got up and turned around, only to lie down again, as though
too nervous and restless to be still a moment. All nature was wretched
and uncomfortable. The atmosphere became preternaturally transparent,
and objects long distances off were revealed as though seen through
a powerful field-glass. The total lack of vitality in the air made
its very inhalation an effort. Cattle about the fields drifted in a
restless manner to their pens and huddled together. Sheep found shelter
in their mountain-cave, where they stood with noses to the ground; bugs
and ants crept in through the doors and windows which had been flung
wide open to catch the faintest breath of air.
The most inanimate of created things seemed to share in the depression.
Leaves of trees curled and drooped, and flowers closed their limp
petals as though a sirocco had swept over them.
Suddenly all was flurry and excitement to prepare for the cyclone
that even the very lizards knew was coming. Sledge-hammers, axes, and
immense timbers were hastily brought inside the house. We rapidly
prepared to occupy and defend the three front rooms only. Ciriaco
brought in some cold meat and bread, brandy, _aguadiente_, and a pail
of water, which were deposited in a corner of the parlor.
The rear of the house was closely barred and secured in the strongest
way possible. There was a sudden and hurried rush into the various
buildings. Chinese and negroes fled to their respective barracoons
and fastened themselves in. Lamo, with two white men in our employ,
and several trusty, stalwart negroes, waited to see that all were
protected, thoroughly safe as possible, barely allowing themselves time
to rush into the house and close the last windows when the hurricane
broke upon us. The wind rose in great, howling gusts, and swooped down
and around with tumultuous roar like the booming of cannon. A rattle
and a bang, as though we were being assaulted with battering-rams
on one side the house, and all rushed to the threatened windows to
secure them with great solid timbers driven by sledge-hammers into the
polished floor, and forced against the massive panels of the shutters
that closed from within. A rushing and a whizzing sound, broken into
a prolonged roar, admonished us that the wind had veered, and now
the opposite windows were threatened; before they could be properly
secured, a great rattling and howling at the door drove every one with
axes, sledge-hammers, and timbers to the front of the house. So the
wind whirled round and round, stopping at every door and window to blow
a louder and more startling blast. Like a great giant battling for
admission, or a besieging army attacking first on one side, then on
another, then all around at once, in the determination to carry the
defenses by storm, the merciless wind fought. We knew only too well
that if it gained admission, the house would be wrecked; one of its
mighty blasts could lift the very stone roof.
Meanwhile, except for a single candle in a corner, so shielded for fear
of sudden gusts that it only served to make darkness visible, we were
without any light. A panel a few inches square, hung on hinges in a
front shutter, was our only means of obtaining a glimpse of the outside
world, and we dared not open this while the storm was doing its utmost.
For thirty hours we bravely and unceasingly defended the besieged
castle--thirty hours of mortal terror and incessant vigilance--before
the giant, with one last, deafening howl, diminished the force of the
attack, and gave us one moment’s peace. Cautiously taking hurried
peeps through the little panel, while the tornado was whirling with
fearful impetuosity through a roseate atmosphere, the very wind seemed
a tangible pink element sweeping everything before it. _Débris_ of
every kind was being borne upon its mighty wings. Great sheets of
metal roofing from the sugar-house went careering along like scraps of
paper; huge palm-trees whirled aloft and away like straws; while tiles,
bricks, and smaller objects sailed with lightning rapidity across the
horizon like motes in a breeze, so utterly insignificant were they
in the grasp of the mighty element. A few holes, wrenched through
the strong stone roof of the house, gave access to the rain, that now
poured down in blinding floods, and we were soon like Noah’s dove,
flying in vain search of a dry spot.
When at last, after thirty hours of exhaustive battle and mortal alarm,
our doors were once more thrown open, the scene of desolation was
beyond all powers of description. The boundless fields of waving cane,
that delighted our eyes only two days before, had entirely disappeared;
beaten flat down by the wind, the rapidly descending waters rushed
completely over them. The sugar-house was wholly unroofed; and for days
broad strips of the metal, bent as though Vulcan’s hammer had beaten
them into a thousand fantastic shapes, were brought from the fields
hundreds of yards away. Rock fences had been dashed to pieces and the
fragments strewed over the fields. The proud army of majestic palms,
that had for so many decades stood guard of our entrance, lost twenty
of its bravest veterans. The grand old bell, whose ringing peals so
often summoned help in the hour of danger, and whose gentle, solemn
toll always brought to my tired heart memories of peaceful Sabbath
days, lay shattered on the ground, its silvery tongue silenced forever!
Desolation was everywhere supreme. When the waters subsided (they ran
off into low places and partly filled creeks with surprising rapidity),
the negroes sallied forth from their long confinement. The first
move was to count all hands at the barracoons. Many had had wonderful
escapes, and it was a great satisfaction to ascertain that only one, a
Chinese, was missing. While the rushing waters were still several feet
deep, messengers on horseback were dispatched to search for him. He was
found extended upon a fragment of fence that surrounded the cattle-pen,
insensible, and in that condition brought to the house, hanging in
front of one of the riders. After rolling the poor, water-logged
fellow again and again on a bench, and rubbing him with dry mustard,
some evidence of life appeared. At the first signs of vitality copious
draughts of brandy were administered, and he soon entirely recovered.
The half-drowned cattle, that huddled together with the impulse of
brute instinct, began to hold up their beaten and weary heads. The
horses, that crowded into the sugar-house when it was under bare poles,
with the intuition that taught them they were safer there than in the
open field, escaped without serious injury. Basket after basket of
drowned and half-drowned fowls were brought to the house; many of them
had even their feathers wrenched out by the wind. The birds that had
flown, in gay plumage and joyous note, from tree to tree only a short
time before, were gone; hushed was the busy call of the Guinea fowl;
silent was the whistle of the quail--the angry winds had whirled them
away. A few buzzards, whose vitality is so proverbial--it is even
averred that a bullet can not kill one--were to be seen perched, day
after day, in a most dejected and melancholy attitude, on the remnants
of fences and posts, with scarcely a tail-or wing-feather left, naked
and shivering, too helpless and disheartened to hop down; to attempt to
fly would have been suicidal.
A walk through the house revealed broken and wrenched railings,
battered windows, and a court-yard strewed with stone and cement plowed
out of the roof by relentless winds. Everything was wet--each shoe
floated in its particular puddle, all our garments dripped, and every
chair-seat was soaked. Water ran in small streams over the floors; the
very beds were saturated; the occupancy of each little dry spot had
to be contested with ants, lizards, and scorpions that invaded the
premises by myriads.
I wondered, on first seeing Desengaño, why people in a mild, soft
climate should build a house solid as a castle, with walls three feet
thick; and I wondered, after that _temporal_, that any one dared to
live in a house less substantial and with less protection than massive
walls and a stone roof afford.
Long before securing any degree of comfort, we had to help our
neighbors, particularly the _guajiros_, who had a _sitio_ between us
and the village. Panchito and Manuel waded through the submerged roads
to tell that their houses were entirely blown away. The places were
washed and smoothed over all fresh and clean to begin again: four
holes and four uprights and some cross-poles, with a covering of green
palm-branches, made each as complete as it was before. We furnished
men and means to tide them over their losses. In the beginning of the
_temporal_, or rather when it threatened, they sought refuge in the
caves of the mountain-side, and a merciful Providence saved their lives
from destruction.
Under the warm rays of the sun the cane soon lifted crooked and bent
stalks, with their few remaining leaves whipped into shreds, and nature
slowly recovered from the fearful shock.
It was hard work to get the sugar-house in order to take off the crop,
greatly diminished though it was. Weeks passed before we were again
even moderately comfortable in the house. By and by the water-logged
trunks, the contents of drawers, and the soaked shoes, after long
exposure to the sun, dried, but the musty odor of mold never seemed
to depart from them. All the creeping things of the earth, and the
flying things that live in dark places, came upon us like a plague.
Ants and curious little split-tailed bugs swarmed by thousands, and
the floor was often marked with the black streak of the one battalion,
or the glittering yellow line of the other. Centipedes started from
under every pillow, and big-bodied spiders, with long, hairy legs, ran
from among the damp books, while the mosquitoes, that were always with
us, became more voracious and tormenting than ever. Cunning little
lizards, the least objectionable of all our reptile visitors, darted
about with their pretty emerald coats and shining black eyes, and the
glorious _cucullos_, with blazing lanterns on their heads, flew in and
out the open windows, when the shades of night revealed the brilliancy
of their tiny lamps.