CHAPTER IV

THE TROPICS AND THEIR DEVELOPMENT

THE growth of vegetation in tropical lands is a revelation of what rich

soil aided by a hot sun and an abundance of water can do. There are

localities in the world where is found the rich soil, but either warmth

or water is wanting and they are comparatively barren. In this region

where the soil is frequently eight to fourteen feet in depth, where the

fall of water is from eighty to one hundred and twenty inches annually,

and where the sun furnishes perpetual summer heat, nature reveals

herself in her grandest moods, and the stranger coming here for the

first time cries out in astonishment at her prodigality.

The first feeling of one on entering a tropical forest is that of

helplessness, confusion, awe, and all but terror. Without a compass or a

blazed path a man would be almost lost in a few minutes if he should

venture into such a tangled growth by himself. The exuberance of

vegetation is fairly astounding and the English language is utterly

inadequate to express the variety and luxuriance of the vegetable world.

It is equally as impossible to describe the colours for there are so

many tints of green. The costliest amusements of our gayest cities can

never equal the gratuitous diversions which nature provides for her

favoured guests. Thus it is that one feels when traversing the tropical

forests of Guatemala. Eastern Guatemala, that part bordering on the Gulf

of Mexico, is an American Java, a botanical garden spot where climate

and the black soil vie with that eastern isle. And no land can compare

with it in the number and variety of its birds and flying insects, for

it is a veritable natural museum of living birds and butterflies.

Every growth on these shores is straining upwards in perpendicular

lines, and in fierce competition, towards the light above so necessary

to its healthfulness. These upward shoots are of every possible

thickness and almost every conceivable hue. The leaves are, for the most

part, on the twigs. The number and variety of trees is almost infinite

as compared with our northern woods. There are more varieties of palms

alone, than all the arboreal species of the New England woods. Among

these are the cohune palms with great clusters of hard, oily nuts;

another kind with fearful spines but edible nuts; and even climbing,

vine-like palms that will reach a length of several hundred feet.

Bamboos are present everywhere with their graceful stems, and tall reeds

with blossoms in striking contrast with the dark-green leaves of the

trees.

Great mahogany trees rise straight and with uniform trunks in the forest

like the great oaks in our own woods, only higher. Immense ceiba trees

sometimes fifteen feet in diameter stand up like veritable monsters of

the forests and occasionally throw out great buttresses, as it were, for

additional strength. When these trees are cut a platform is built

reaching above these buttresses and the cutters stand on this. Even the

poor little villages are ennobled somewhat by the noble palms and ceiba

trees which they contain. Decaying trees and branches are seldom seen,

for the elements quickly destroy or the migratory ants devour them. If a

dead trunk or log is found it is so covered with growths of parasites

such as orchids, mosses, ferns and flowering plants, that the dead wood

can scarcely be seen. One tree drops its nuts, about the size of a hen’s

egg, into the water where they germinate and float about until they

anchor themselves on a bank or shoal. The absence of sod is very

noticeable, for the foliage is so dense that grass will not grow.

Rosewood, ironwood, logwood, sapodilla, cedar, cacao and fig trees—all

are found within these forests, and the mangrove on the coast lands, or

the banks of streams.

[Illustration: AN INDIAN WITH HIS MACHETE.]

There are no solitary tree trunks, such as we are accustomed to, in the

lowlands. All are covered with vines and parasitic growths. Some of the

trees have enough orchids and other plants growing upon them to stock a

hot-house; others have so many vines stretching down from their branches

to the ground that you would think some kind of a trap had been built.

One vine may twine around another and another, until a great cable is

formed several inches across and furbelowed all down the middle into

regular knots. There is sometimes such a labyrinth of this wire rigging

that it keeps an Indian with his _machete_ busy, for he must cut vines

right and left every few feet. It must have been in such a forest that

the story of Jack and the Beanstalk originated, for these vines bring it

vividly to mind. One parasitic vine—the matapolo—starts as a slender

vine, but gradually expands until it looks like a huge serpent; and if

several cling to the tree they will kill it, but by that time they will

support the dead trunk. The sarsaparilla, that health-giving plant, is

one of these dependent vines, indigenous to these forests, and is a very

common growth here. It belongs to the Smilax family and climbs to a

great height. Only the long tough roots are used in medicinal

preparations. These are cut off by the hunters and the stems planted in

the ground, when the roots will be replaced in a short time by the

alchemist, nature. The vanilla is a parasitic orchid and also flourishes

in these damp, oozy forests.

When no vines are visible at the bottom, dangling vines may be seen

sixty or eighty feet up in the green cloud above, growing out of what

looks like a gigantic nest of parasitic growths, and frequently with

arms as large as a fair-sized sapling. You can only tell what it is by

felling the tree, and even then the trunk may refuse to fall, for it is

so linked and intertwined with adjoining trees by the many vines. When

thirsty the natives cut a rough looking vine, first above and then

below, and from out of this section pour out a pint or more of pure cold

water. This is the ascending rain water hurrying aloft to be transformed

into sap, leaf, flower and fruit.

[Illustration: A TROPICAL JUNGLE.]

In contrast to the silence of the northern woods there is no stillness

in these jungles so long as the sun is above the horizon. The music may

vary from the screeching of the innumerable flocks of parrots—for they

never go singly—to the feeble chirp of an insect, but it is there.

During the day there are birds that incessantly chatter, whistle, croak,

chirrup, coo, warble and utter discordant noises, thus making the air

vocal with the varied sounds. At night the pitiful howling of the spider

monkey breaks the silence that otherwise might obtain. No country, so

naturalists say, offers a greater variety of bright-hued birds. The

great macaw is a polychromatic wonder rivalling the proud peacock

flaunting his plumage in the sunlight. There are many varieties of

parrots and parroquets to be found. The quetzal, which figures in the

national emblem, has tail feathers often reaching three feet in length.

These feathers are of a peacock green to indigo in colour, the breast is

scarlet and the wings dark. This bird will not survive captivity, and

for this reason the founders of the republic gave it a place on the

nation’s escutcheon. In ancient days, so highly was this bird regarded

that none but the royal family dared to wear its plumes. There are some

good specimens to be seen in the museum at the capital, but a live

quetzal is rarely seen. Then there are pelicans, kingfishers, mot-mots,

pavos, curassows, white cranes, doves, swallows, noisy yellow-tails and

the curious toucan with its enormous bill and brilliant colour. Vampire

bats about the size of an English sparrow are common. They will bite

cattle, but are not so large, nor so fierce, as the South American

species that will attack even human beings.

Two species of monkeys are found in these forests—the white-faced mono,

whose face is nearly devoid of hair and beard, and the long-tailed,

howling monkey. These animals are migratory and, as they build no nests,

it is difficult to locate them. It is really wonderful—so hunters

say—how fast these monkeys can travel through the trees by jumping from

one limb to another sixty or eighty feet above ground. They live on

fruits and insects, especially beetles and butterflies, and rob the

nests of birds for the eggs. Many of them are kept as pets and they are

quite intelligent and very mischievous. Some of the natives prize them

as food. Among the other animals, more or less common, are peccaries,

jaguars (called by the natives _tigres_), tapirs, ant-bears, wild hogs,

and a species of small, red deer. The sloth, that peculiar tree-animal

so different from most tree-animals, which are usually very agile, is

found in some districts. Snakes are not so plentiful as one would

expect, although the “chicken boa,” so called, sometimes reaching a

length of a dozen feet, is occasionally encountered. Alligators are not

very common, though not a rarity by any means. Turtles are very

plentiful, and the edible hawksbill turtle, whose shell is so valuable,

because it furnishes the tortoise-shell of commerce, is very abundant on

these shores, sometimes weighing as much as one hundred and fifty

pounds. The iguana is one of the numerous lizard family and is highly

prized for food, its flesh tasting something like chicken, so epicures

say. The natives prefer it to good beefsteak. This curious reptile has a

mouth like a toad, green, glittering eyes, a ponderous under throat, and

lancet shaped spines along the back, and sometimes reaches a length of

four feet. It is easily tamed, and it is a very common sight to see them

in the coast villages sunning themselves around the cottages and

apparently as much at home as the dogs and chickens.[1]

Great butterflies, whose outstretched wings spread out eight inches, are

a common sight. Collectors flock to these shores each year for butterfly

specimens, for in no country is there a greater variety. The natives can

seldom be hired to catch them as they think it is unlucky and will

injure the eyes. Spiders with legs two inches across can be found.

Scorpions and centipedes abound, but both are sluggish and are dreaded

very little by the natives—not much more than hornets in our own

country.

Footnote 1:

“These serpentes are lyke unto crocodiles, saving in bigness; they

call them guanas. Unto that day none of owre men durste aduenture to

taste of them, by reason of theyre horrible deformitie and lothsomnes.

Yet the Adelantado being entysed by the pleasantnes of the king’s

sister, Anacaona, determined to taste the serpentes. But when he felte

the flesh thereof to be so delycate to his tongue, he fel to amayne

without al feare. The which thyng his companions perceiuing, were not

behynde hym in greedyness; insomuch that they had now none other talke

than of the sweetnesse of these serpentes, which they affirm to be of

more pleasant taste than eyther our phesantes or partriches.”—_An old

writer._

Many kinds of ants have their habitat in the Guatemalan tropics. One

species builds nests in the tree tops, which resemble those of hornets.

Another kind, called the umbrella ant, is one of the most interesting

species in the family of ants. They are so called because, when seen,

the worker is always carrying a piece of leaf like a sail, which he

holds tightly as if his life or happiness depended on getting that

particular leaf to its destination. Several times I took away the piece

of leaf and the worker would immediately attack another ant and

endeavour to get his leaf, and sometimes a number of ants would become

involved in the melee. The ant finally left without a leaf would start

back on the trail, for it seemed to be an inviolable rule never to go

back to the nest without a section of leaf. These leaves are stored away

where they ferment and form one of the foods of these industrious little

workers.

When Cortez made his memorable journey from Mexico to the present site

of Puerto Cortez, in 1525, passing through Livingston, the coast country

of the Kingdom of Quahtemala, as it was then called, was an almost

unbroken forest, swampy, and oozy, and subject to heavy overflows in the

rainy season. He sailed up the Rio Dulce with eyes wide open in wonder

as the beauties of the stream unfolded. Almost two-thirds of the

available agricultural land in Guatemala is still uncultivated for want

of labourers and the necessary industry. With the advancement of modern

science in remedying the fever-producing conditions, these regions can

be made most desirable. One noted scientist has recently predicted that

tropical lands will in the future be the favourite abode of mankind, as

they were in the early history of the human race, because of the ease

with which a livelihood can be obtained. In a land of perpetual summer,

where fruits grow wild and a small piece of land will produce enough

sustenance for a family, there is no need for a man to work hard.

Earning one’s bread by the sweat of his brow becomes a jest. It is

little wonder that the natives bask in the sun and dream their lives

away.

Of all the rich soil so abundant in this republic, there is little

systematic cultivation. There is no necessity to plow the land after it

has been cleared of the timber and undergrowth. Even corn, of which

three crops can be raised in a season, without the aid of fertilizers,

is planted in holes made by a stick, and rice is scattered broadcast.

Corn will often grow twelve feet in height and produce three generous

ears on the stalk. The land laws are liberal in order to encourage

settlers from other lands to locate here. The public lands are divided

into lots of not more than fifteen _caballerias_, which are sold for a

price ranging from $250 to $300 each by the government. A _caballeria_

comprises one hundred and thirteen and five-eighths acres. Premiums have

been offered by the government for the cultivation of India rubber,

cacao, sarsaparilla, cotton, and tobacco; and no tax will be levied for

ten years on lands devoted to the cultivation of these products. The

small farmer, however, cannot make a small farm pay as well as in

northern lands, for he could not stand it to work so hard and so

regularly. Plantations to be successful should be large enough to

justify the establishment of a colony of peon labourers on the premises.

[Illustration: A NATIVE HUT.]

One plantation of three thousand acres, and employing from nine hundred

to thirteen hundred labourers, produced in one year three hundred

thousand pounds of sugar, twenty-two thousand gallons of milk, three

million bottles of brandy, two thousand head of cattle and more than a

million pounds of coffee. The labour laws require the owner of a

plantation to preserve order on his estate; to keep a record of his

employees, their wages, etc., in Spanish; to provide suitable dwellings

or materials with which to build them (this, however, is simple enough);

to furnish medicines and medical assistance in case of sickness; to keep

a free school for the children where more than ten families are

employed, if there is no public school in the neighbourhood; and to see

that all persons are vaccinated.

Nature has done all that could be expected or could be hoped for on her

part. The only thing necessary for success is the proper selection of

ground and intelligent cultivation of the crops to which it is adapted.

The diversity of altitudes and climates allows a great range of

products. In no country in the world of equal size, in all probability,

is there such a great variety of surface or such a diversity of natural

products. There are more than four hundred species of wood of which one

hundred and fifty are commercially valuable, and some three hundred and

forty medicinal plants have already been discovered; and the end of

discoveries in this line has not yet been reached.

Of the valuable woods, mahogany easily takes first place. These great

and majestic trees are found in considerable number in the forests of

northeastern Guatemala. Those situated near the larger streams have been

cut down. Farther inland the difficulty of transportation makes the

marketing of the logs an expensive undertaking, although the standing

trees can be purchased from the government for a very small sum. The

logwood tree, as well as other dyewoods, is found bordering on all the

great lagoons and some portions of the Gulf coast. It is a tree of

medium size and peculiar appearance, attaining a height of twenty or

thirty feet. The trunk is gnarled and full of cavities, and separates a

short distance above the ground. The heart, the only valuable portion,

is a deep red. The logwood is found in the same localities as the

mahogany, and they are districts that are generally flooded in the rainy

season. The timbers are cut in the dry season and then floated down to

the ports in the rainy season.

The palms are the most familiar of all tropical trees and a landscape

hardly seems tropical without these graceful trees. It is doubtful if

there is a single class of the tropical trees so essential to the native

as the palms. Houses, timber, firewood, fodder, food and drink, needles

and threads, wax and drugs are all obtained from palms of various

species. The Royal palm is the most graceful and majestic of all, and

there is no more imposing scene of arboreal beauty than the long avenues

of these beautiful trees so common in the American tropics. Their

smooth, tapering trunks, almost as hard as granite, tower upward for

eighty or even a hundred feet above the earth, bearing at the top a mass

of green, drooping plumes. These great white trunks, standing boldly out

upon verdure-clad slopes, so conspicuous among the tangled sea of vines

and jungle at their feet, and their plumes swaying gently in the

breezes, are a beautiful and imposing sight.

The commonest and most useful of the palms is the cocoanut, which is a

conspicuous sight in every village and rural scene in tropical lands. As

this palm most commonly grows in spots exposed to the full sweep of the

winds, the trunk is gradually bent away from the winds. It is seldom,

indeed, that one will find the cocoanut in an absolutely perpendicular

position. The stem is so strong and tough, being composed of

closely-interwoven fibres, that the entire top may be torn off by the

hurricanes and the trunk remain uninjured. The cocoanut commences to

bear when from three to ten years old and will continue to produce

fruit, year after year, for from seventy-five to one hundred years. The

nut is used for both food and drink, and the shell is made into dippers,

jars, spoons and other household utensils. The dried cocoa is a valuable

article of commerce, but the real value of the oil prepared from the

fresh meat is only beginning to be realized. It is useful not only in

the manufacture of soaps, but a butter is prepared from it that is

superior not only to cottonseed oil, but, so it is claimed, better than

even animal butter for purposes of food. There is no reason why the

tropics of Guatemala should not produce large quantities of the oil and

cocoa meat for American and European trade.

[Illustration: A SUGAR PLANTATION.]

India rubber grows wild in the forests and could be cultivated

profitably, as it is now being done in Mexico and other countries. The

government will give one _manzana_ (113.62 acres) of land as a bonus for

every two thousand rubber plants set out for cultivation. Sugar cane can

be raised profitably, as the stalks grow high, with many joints, and

have a greater percentage of saccharine than in most countries where it

is cultivated. Furthermore, it does not require replanting for years in

this soil. The stalks will grow nine feet high in as many months. At

present about the only use to which the cane is devoted here is in the

manufacture of “white-eye,” the native brandy. Some of it is made into

sugar by means of old-fashioned sugar mills, which are simply vertical

iron-roll mills turned by oxen. There is only one kettle used and no

clarifier, and the syrup is run into wooden moulds, where it is cooled

into dark hemispherical blocks—a form much liked by the Indians.

The Guatemalan cacao is claimed to be the very best in the world. It is

not cultivated to any great extent at present, although the propagation

is on the increase, as Ecuador practically controls the trade. The best

conditions are an altitude of from eight hundred to two thousand feet

and a soil rich in moisture, or capable of irrigation. Virgin lands from

which forests have been cut are the best. It requires six years for the

trees to mature, although they will occasionally bear in less time. The

cultivation does not require nearly so much labour as coffee, although

care must be taken not to hurt the “bean” when it is removed from the

pod. One day is given for “fermentation;” after which they are dried in

the sun for several days. The cacao is then ready for the market to

furnish our delicious chocolate preparations. The pods are from ten to

twelve inches long and contain many beans; they resemble a musk melon in

appearance, and grow from the branches and trunks of the trees.

Nutmegs have proved a success on the Island of Trinidad and would do

just as well here. The trees require at least eighty inches of rain

annually. They will produce nutmegs in eight to ten years and will then

bear and improve for a century. Each tree will yield from one thousand

to five thousand nuts in a season, in size varying from sixty-eight to

one hundred and twenty in a pound. Tobacco grows well and of good

quality at an elevation of from one thousand to two thousand feet.

Common and sweet potatoes, yams, beans, breadfruit, squashes, melons,

tomatoes, peppers, the _aguacate_, or alligator pear (weighing about a

pound), the _granadilla_ (fruit of the passion flower), and many other

fruits and vegetables can easily be cultivated at a fair profit.

Japan, India, or Ceylon can furnish nothing more fascinating or stranger

in their vegetable kingdom than this favoured land. The fruits are

simply wonderful in variety and perfection. The glowing sun and ardent

breath of the tropics ask little aid from the hand of man in perfecting

their products. One eats eggs, custard and butter off the trees.

The mango is nearly as abundant and prolific as the banana in some

places. It grows on a very handsome tree, the leaves being long,

lanceolate, polished, and hanging in dense masses of dark-green foliage.

In size it is like a full-grown apple tree. The fruit is about the size

of an egg plum, and when ripe is yellow in colour and very juicy. They

grow in long, pendent branches, and the rich, juicy, golden-meated fruit

is not only attractive to the eye, but delightful to the palate.

That great broad-leaved, useful plant so characteristic of the tropics,

the banana, grows in great profusion in Guatemala, where there are fully

two hundred varieties. Many of them are too delicate for transportation

so they will never become a factor in commerce. All through the lowlands

of Guatemala and even up to an elevation of two thousand and more feet,

the banana is more common than the apple tree in New England; and few

indeed are the native shacks in those sections that do not have their

banana grove near. The uses of the banana in its natural habitat are so

many, and its growth is so exuberant, that it might be classed, with

equal propriety, as a weed, a vegetable, or a fruit.

Along the line of the Guatemala Northern Railway and the borders of Lake

Izabal, with its connecting streams, are thousands of acres just as well

suited to the cultivation of this delicious fruit as the neighbouring

republic of Honduras, or more distant Costa Rica. Much of the land

belongs to the public domain and can be secured for a small sum,

although the first cost probably represents not more than one-third of

the investment that will be found necessary. The land must be cleared,

although this is a simple matter, for the trees and underbrush are

simply left where they fall, as decay is very rapid in this climate; and

the banana shoots, called _hijos_, are planted in the midst of the

rubbish from twelve to fifteen feet apart. After about nine months the

stalk will bear and the bunch of bananas is cut while still green. The

parent stalk is cut down and one or more shoots will spring up from the

roots which will bear fruit in the same time. Thus a marketable crop is

produced each week, bringing in a steady and unceasing revenue.

The banana has a curious and prodigal method of propagation. Even before

the fruit of the parent stalk has matured, new stalks begin to spring up

from the roots. As this process is repeated indefinitely it follows that

unless these surplus stalks are cut out, a banana field would soon

become a miniature jungle. Some growers follow the plan of allowing four

shoots to grow in one hill, and their gradations are so arranged that

while the oldest is bearing fruit the second is in blossom, the third is

half-grown, and the fourth is just coming forth from the ground. In the

majority of cases a new shoot will spring up from the old stalk if cut

near the ground and there is plenty of rain.

The rapidity of growth of this shoot is a marvel of tropical hustling. A

prominent naturalist has made a record of the growth during the first

few hours which seems almost incredible, but is true. Twenty minutes

after the stalk was cut, the new shoot could be seen pushing up from the

center of the cut. Eight hours after cutting, the shoot was nearly two

feet in height with the leaves forming. Thirty-one hours after cutting

there were four well-developed and perfect leaves and the new shoot

constituted quite a respectable looking tree. This great rapidity of

growth is due to the spirally-wrapped leaves that are contained within

the banana stalk, and which are merely pushed upward and unroll. It is a

fact that under those circumstances the growth is so rapid that it is

almost discernible to the eye. Stalks grown in this way, it is said,

seldom bloom or bear fruit.

The requirements for successful cultivation of this fruit are a deep,

alluvial soil, and plenty of water either by rain or irrigation. The

nature of the soil, however, seems to have less to do with the

successful growing of the banana than the amount of rainfall, which

should be at least one hundred inches annually, and the temperature,

which must be very warm. The best results are obtained near streams, and

an occasional overflow is not a disadvantage. About two hundred or two

hundred and twenty-five hills to the acre is the usual allowance. The

average yield will then be from two hundred and fifty to three hundred

bunches of marketable fruit each year. It is practically immune from

insect pests, and a worm-eaten banana, or banana stalk, is practically

unknown. It is so vigorous that it will hold its own amid all sorts of

weeds and climbing vines, although the successful cultivator will keep

his fields free from such pests.

A careful writer has said that the same amount of land that will produce

enough wheat to support two persons will raise enough bananas to sustain

fifty persons. The food value of the banana and plantain, which is

larger and perhaps more nutritious than the former, has never been fully

exploited. They make an excellent meal which is very nutritious when

dried and ground. At the present time most of the profit goes to the

transportation company which holds a monopoly of the carrying trade.

They are sold to the fruit company for less than half what they are

worth in this country. A vessel will carry twenty thousand bunches in

addition to a cargo of passengers, and the loss on the fruit does not

exceed fifteen per cent. The fact that bananas can not be kept for any

length of time, except in cold storage, requires their early marketing;

and the further fact that they will not stand much handling requires

their shipment in vessels especially constructed for their

transportation. These vessels are all owned by one fruit-buying trust.

It is no wonder that this monopoly has proved very profitable to its

owners. Now that the new railroad is opened up and regular trains are

running, this rich banana soil ought to be rapidly developed, since the

market for this delicious fruit is constantly increasing and the supply

has never yet exceeded the demand. Instead of a million bunches,

Guatemala ought to export five or ten million bunches each year.

All over the world the fruits, as well as other articles of the tropics,

are coming into greater demand each year. In 1908 the United States

imported fruits and other food products of the tropics, not including

coffee, to the value of more than two dollars for each man, woman and

child in the country. Sugar was by far the largest item on the list,

bananas second, and cacao a close rival for that distinction. More than

37,000,000 bunches of bananas were consumed in the United States during

that year, an increase of fifty per cent in five years. The general use

of the banana is of very recent growth, for it has come into use in

Northern climates almost entirely within the last quarter of a century.

The Pacific slope of Guatemala, although much less in extent, is far

ahead of the Gulf side in cultivation and is far more thickly settled.

The chief export from this district is coffee which is cultivated

everywhere at an altitude of from one thousand to six thousand feet. The

soil is about the same as that of Chiapas, the adjoining Mexican state,

which also produces a fine quality of coffee. Thousands of bags of

coffee are shipped from the ports of Ocos, Champerico and San Jose, in

Guatemala, and San Benito, in Mexico, which is only a few miles from the

border. Coffee is not a natural product of this soil, but was first

introduced into the New World by a Spanish priest in Guatemala, who

obtained the seed in Arabia. It was found adapted to the soil and

climate, and coffee is to-day by far the most valuable export, the

shipments having reached as high as eighty-five million pounds in one

year, worth as much as all other exports together. Most of it is

exported to Germany and England, as it is a common saying throughout

Mexico and Central America, that only the poor grades of coffee are sent

to the greatest coffee-drinking nation in the world—that of Uncle

Sam—and the national eagle ought to trail his feathers in the dust at

this reflection on his good taste.

[Illustration: DRYING COFFEE.]

A coffee field is a beautiful sight with its shrubs of dark green dotted

here and there with the white, fragrant blossoms and the bright, crimson

berries which look almost like cherries. It must be remembered that

coffee grows on trees, which are set nine or ten feet apart, for the

trees will grow twenty feet high if permitted, and ladders are necessary

for the pickers. The trees are raised in nurseries and when a few months

old are transplanted. It requires a deep soil, careful cultivation,

plenty of rain, and shade for the young plants to reach their highest

development. The best altitude is from 2,600 feet to 4,500 feet in this

climate. On the lower elevations the plants must be shaded, and the

banana is generally employed because it also produces a valuable crop

and furnishes a revenue while the coffee trees are maturing. Corn may be

planted among the trees if one is in a hurry to obtain returns from the

land. The trees will produce a profitable crop in from four to six years

after transplanting, although coffee two years from the seed is

frequently seen. On the higher elevations the plants must be protected

from the north winds of December to February, and a site is generally

chosen with a range of hills to the north for shelter. The critical

period is the blooming season, when a heavy rainfall, while the trees

are in flower, washes away the pollen and will prevent fructification.

The “cherry” ripens in October, and they are then gathered and “pulped,”

after which they are spread out on the great paved yards, with which

every finca is supplied, to dry, after which they are separated and

hulled, and then stored. After the pulp has been removed coffee is

called in _pergamino_; then after the parchment-like covering has been

removed, it is in _oro_.

[Illustration: A MILL FOR HULLING COFFEE.]

If one feels a decided call to till the soil old Mother Earth will be

about as generous to him in coffee culture as in anything. Whatever

cultivation one undertakes, he must wait some years to see his money

come back. Even if he engages in the raising of cattle, he must wait for

the calves to grow, and no calf will grow faster than he pleases, unless

you stuff him with expensive grain. With corn, wheat or barley, you must

prepare the soil carefully each season, and after the crop is cut and

stacked, the land is there again, bare as before. With coffee, after the

land is once planted, it does not need replanting for many years.

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Guatemala and Her People of To-day Being an Account of the Land, Its History and Development; the People, Their Customs and Characteristics; to Which Are Added Chapters on British Honduras and the Republic of Honduras, with References to the Other Countries of Central America, Salvador, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica · 第 4 / 12 章