CHAPTER XI.

The Havana Lottery. -- Its Influence. -- Hospitality of the

Cubans. -- About Bonnets. -- The Creole Lady's Face. -- Love

of Flowers. -- An Atmospheric Narcotic. -- The Treacherous

Indian Fig. -- How the Cocoanut is propagated. -- Cost of

Living in Cuba. -- Spurious Liquors. -- A Pleasant Health

Resort. -- The Cock-Pit. -- Game-Birds. -- Their Management.

-- A Cuban Cock-Fight. -- Garden of the World. -- About

Birds. -- Stewed Owl! -- Slaughter of the Innocents. -- The

Various Fruits.

There is a regularly organized lottery in Havana, to which the

government lends its name, and which has semi-monthly drawings. These

drawings are made in public, and great care is taken to impress the

people with the idea of their entire fairness. The authorities realize

over a million dollars annually by the tax which is paid into the

treasury on these most questionable enterprises. The lottery is

patronized by high and low, the best mercantile houses devoting a

regular sum monthly to the purchase of tickets on behalf of their

firms. One individual of this class told the writer that no drawing

had taken place within the last ten years at Havana in which the firm

of which he was a member had not been interested to the extent of at

least one doubloon, that is, one whole ticket. The mode usually is,

however, to purchase several fractional parts of tickets, so as to

multiply the chances. On being asked what was the result of the ten

years of speculation in this line, the reply was that the books of the

firm would show, as it was entered therein like any other line of

purchases. Curious to find an authentic instance as an example, the

matter was followed up until the result was found. It seemed that this

house had averaged about four hundred dollars per annum expended for

lottery tickets, that is, four thousand dollars in the last ten years.

On the credit side they had received in prizes about nineteen hundred

dollars, making a loss of twenty-one hundred dollars. "But then,"

remarked our informant, "we may get a big prize one of these

days,--who knows?"

The lottery here proves to be as great a curse as it does in Italy,

where its demoralizing effects are more apparent. The poorer classes,

even including the slaves and free negroes, are regular purchasers,

and occasionally a prize is realized among them, which stimulates to

increased ventures. A few years since, some slaves upon a plantation

near Alquizar purchased a single ticket, clubbing together in order to

raise the money. These Africans drew a prize of forty thousand

dollars, which sum was honestly paid to them, and they purchased their

freedom at once, dividing a very pretty amount for each as a capital

to begin business on his own account.

"And pray what became of those liberated men?" we asked of our

informant. "Singular to say I can tell you," he answered. "Others felt

the same interest you express, and they have been followed in their

subsequent career. There were sixteen of the party, who realized equal

portions of the prize. They were valuable slaves, and paid an average

of fifteen hundred dollars each for their free papers. This left them

a thousand dollars each. Two returned to Africa. Four joined the

insurgents at Santiago, in 1870, and were probably shot. The remainder

drank themselves to death in Havana, or died by fevers induced

through intemperate habits." "Did you ever know a man, white or black,

who drew a prize of any large amount, who was not the worse for it

after a short time?" we asked. "Perhaps not," was his honest reply. A

miserable creature came into the vestibule of the Telegrafo Hotel one

day begging. After he had departed we were told that a few years ago

he was possessed of a fortune. "Why is he in this condition?" we

asked. "He was engaged in a good business," said our informant, "drew

a large prize in the lottery, sold out his establishment, and gave

himself up to pleasure, gambling, and drink. That is all that is left

of him now. He has just come out of the hospital, where he was treated

for paralysis."

Honestly conducted as these lotteries are generally believed to be,

their very stability and the just payment of prizes but makes them the

more baleful and dangerous in their influence upon the public. As

carried on in Havana, the lottery business is the most wholesale mode

of gambling ever witnessed. Though some poor man may become

comparatively wealthy through their means, once in twenty years, yet

in the mean time thousands are impoverished in their mad zeal to

purchase tickets though it cost them the last dollar they possess. The

government thus fosters a taste for gambling and supplies the ready

means, while any one at all acquainted with the Spanish character must

know that the populace need no prompting in a vice to which they seem

to take intuitively. No people, unless it be the Chinese, are so

addicted to all games of chance upon which money can be staked.

Spaniards, and especially Cuban Spaniards, receive credit for being

extremely hospitable, and to a certain extent this is true; but one

soon learns to regard the extravagant manifestations which so often

characterize their domestic etiquette as rather empty and heartless.

Let a stranger enter the house of a Cuban for the first time,

especially if he be a foreigner, and the host or hostess of the

mansion at once places all things they possess at his service, yet no

one thinks for a single moment of interpreting this offer literally.

The family vehicle is at your order, or the loan of a saddle horse,

and in such small kindnesses they are always generous; but when they

beg you to accept a ring, a book, or a valuable toy, because you have

been liberal in your praise of the article, you are by no means to do

so. Another trait of character which suggests itself in this

connection is the universal habit of profuse compliment common among

Cuban ladies. Flattery is a base coin at best, but it is current here.

The ladies listen to these compliments as a matter of course from

their own countrymen or such Frenchmen as have settled among them, but

if an American takes occasion to express his honest admiration to a

Creole, her delight is at once manifest. Both the French and Spanish

are extremely gallant to the gentler sex, but it requires no argument

to show that woman under either nationality is far less esteemed and

honored than she is with us in America.

The bonnet, which forms so important a part of a lady's costume in

Europe and America, is rarely worn by the Creoles, and strangers who

appear on the streets of Havana with the latest fashion of this ever

varying article are regarded with curiosity, though so many American

and English ladies visit the island annually. In place of a bonnet,

when any covering is considered desirable for the head, the Cuban

ladies generally wear a long black veil, richly wrought, and gathered

at the back of the head upon the clustered braid of hair, which is

always black and luxuriant. More frequently, however, even this

appendage is not seen, and they drive in the Paseo or through the

streets with their heads entirely uncovered, save by the sheltering

hood of the victoria. When necessity calls them abroad in the early or

middle hours of the day, there is generally a canvas screen buttoned

to the dasher and extended to the top of the calash, to shut out the

too ardent rays of the sun. Full dress, on all state occasions, is

black, but white is universally worn by the ladies in domestic life,

forming a rich contrast to the olive complexions of the women.

Sometimes in the Paseo, when enjoying the evening drive, these fair

creatures indulge in strange contrasts of colors in dress. They also

freely make use of a cosmetic called cascarilla, made from eggshells

finely powdered and mixed with the white of the egg. This forms an

adhesive paste, with which they at times enamel themselves, so that

faces and necks that are naturally dark resemble those of persons who

are white as pearls.

There is one indispensable article, without which a Cuban lady would

feel herself absolutely lost. The fan is a positive necessity to her,

and she learns its coquettish and graceful use from childhood. Formed

of various rich materials, it glitters in her tiny hand like a gaudy

butterfly, now half, now wholly shading her radiant face, which

quickly peeps out again from behind its shelter, like the moon from

out a passing cloud. This little article, always costly, sometimes

very expensive, in her hand seems in its eloquence of motion almost to

speak. She has a witching flirt with it that expresses scorn; a

graceful wave of complacence; an abrupt closing of it that indicates

vexation or anger; a gradual and cautious opening of its folds that

signifies reluctant forgiveness; in short, the language of the fan in

the hand of a Cuban lady is a wonderfully adroit and expressive

pantomime that requires no interpreter, for, like the Chinese written

language, it cannot be spoken.

It may be the prodigality of nature in respect to Flora's kingdom

which has retarded the development of a love for flowers among the

people of the island. Doubtless if Maréchal Niel roses, Jacqueminots,

jonquils, and lilies of the valley were as abundant with us in every

field as clover, dandelions, and buttercups, we should hardly regard

them with so much delight as we do. It is not common to see flowers

under cultivation as they are at the North. They spring up too readily

in a wild state from the fertile soil. One cannot pass over half a

league on an inland road without his senses being regaled and

delighted by the natural floral fragrance, heliotrope, honeysuckle,

sweet pea, and orange blossoms predominating. The jasmine and Cape

rose, though less fragrant, are delightful to the eye, and cluster

everywhere among the hedges, groves, and coffee estates. There is a

blossoming shrub, the native name of which we do not remember, but

which is remarkable for its multitudinous crimson flowers, so

seductive to the humming-birds that they hover about it all day long,

burying themselves in its blossoms until petal and wing seem one. At

first upright, a little later the gorgeous bells droop downward and

fall to the ground unwithered, being poetically called Cupid's tears.

Flowers abound here which are only known to us in our hothouses, whose

brilliant colors, like those of the cactus, scarlet, yellow, and blue,

are quite in harmony with the surroundings, where everything is aglow.

There was pointed out to us a specimen of the frangipanni, a tall and

nearly leafless plant bearing a milk-white flower, and resembling the

tuberose in fragrance, but in form much like our Cherokee rose. This

plant, it will be remembered, was so abundant and so pleasant to the

senses as to attract the attention of the early explorers who

accompanied Columbus across the sea.

There seems to be at times a strange narcotic influence in the

atmosphere of the island, realized more especially inland, where the

visitor is partially removed from the winds which commonly blow from

the Gulf in the after part of the day. So potent has the writer felt

this influence that at first it was supposed to be the effect of some

powerful and medicinal plant abounding in the neighborhood; but on

inquiry it was found that this delightful sense of ease and indolent

luxuriousness was not an unusual experience, particularly among

strangers, and was solely attributable to the narcotic of the soft

climate. By gently yielding to this influence one seemed to dream

while awake, and though the sense of hearing is diminished, that of

the olfactories appears to be increased, and pleasant odors float on

every passing breeze. One feels at peace with all human nature, and a

sense of voluptuous ease overspreads the body. Others have experienced

and remarked upon this sensation of idle happiness. The only

unpleasant realizing sense during the enjoyment of this condition is

the fear that some human voice, or some chance noise, loud and abrupt,

may arouse the dreamer from his trance.

Specimens of the Indian fig, as it is called here, will be sure to

attract the visitor's eye on his inland excursions. It clasps,

entwines, and finally, serpent-like, kills the loftiest forest

monarchs, and taking their place, firmly roots itself and becomes a

stately tree, fattening upon its ill-gotten possession. Its unfading

leaf of vivid green is beautiful to look upon, in spite of its known

and treacherous character. In many respects it typifies the Spanish

discoverers of this beautiful isle, who gradually possessed themselves

of its glorious heritage by the destruction of its legitimate owners.

The manner in which that prolific tree, the cocoanut palm, is

propagated was a curious and interesting study for a leisure hour, the

germination having been with us heretofore an unsolved riddle. Within

the hard shell of the nut, among the mass of rich creamy substance,

near the large end, is a small white lump like the stalk of a young

mushroom, called the ovule. This little finger-like germ of the future

tree gradually forces itself through one of the three eyes always to

be found on the cocoanut. What giant power is concealed within that

tiny ovule, apparently so soft and insignificant! Having pierced its

way through the first shell, it then gradually rends the outer coat of

fibrous covering and curves upward towards the light. Into the inner

shell which it has vacated, it throws little fibrous threads which

slowly absorb the albumen, and thus sustain its new life as it rapidly

develops. First a few leaves grow upward, which from the very outset

begin to assume the pinnate form of the cocoanut leaf, while,

stretching earthward, a myriad of little threads of roots bury

themselves in the ground. Though the tree will grow to a height of

sixty feet or more, these roots will never individually exceed the

size of the fingers on one's hand. In five or six years the tree will

produce its first cluster of cocoanuts, and for several years will go

on increasing in fruitfulness and yielding a bountiful crop for fifty

or sixty years. It was a constant wonder how these cocoanut trees

could sustain an upright position with such a weight of ripening fruit

clustered beneath the shade of their tufted tops.

As regards the cost of living in the island, it may be said to average

higher to the stranger than in the United States. At the city hotels

and large boarding houses the charge is modified from four or five

dollars per day; if a special bargain is made for a considerable

period, it is customary to give a reduction on transient rates of ten

or fifteen per cent. Among the small towns in the interior, at the

houses of entertainment, which are wretchedly poor as a rule, the

charges are exorbitant, and strangers are looked upon as fair game.

This, however, is no more so than in continental Europe, where, though

the accommodations are better, the general treatment is the same. The

luscious and healthful fruits of the country form a large share of the

provisions of the table in Cuba, and are always freely provided. A

fair quality of claret wine, imported from Spain, is also regularly

placed before the guest free of charge, it being the ordinary drink of

the people; but beware of calling for other wines, and particularly

champagne, unless you are prepared to be swindled by the price charged

in your bill. Of course you get only imitation champagne,--that is to

be expected; you do the same nearly everywhere. There is not enough

pure champagne manufactured in Europe to supply the Paris and London

markets alone. The mode of cooking is very similar to the French, plus

the universal garlic, which, like tobacco, appears to be a prime

necessity to the average Spanish appetite. One does not visit Cuba,

however, with the expectation of finding all the niceties of the table

which are ordinary comforts at home, and therefore he is quite content

to enjoy the delightful fruits of the country, the novel scenery, the

curious vegetation, and the captivating climate, which cannot fail to

compensate for many small annoyances.

One of the most pleasant and healthful resorts for a temporary home on

the island is probably the small but thrifty town of Guines, situated

about forty-five miles from Havana, with which it is connected by

rail; indeed, this was the first railroad constructed in Cuba, that

between Matanzas and Havana being the second. Both were mainly the

result of American enterprise and capital. There are now a little over

nine hundred miles of railroad in operation, and more is urgently

demanded to open internal communication with important sections. The

water communication along the southern and northern coasts is mostly

depended upon, and a very well organized system is sustained by three

or four lines of domestic steamers. The immediate locality of Guines

is thought to be one of the most salubrious and best for invalids on

the western division of the island, and is largely resorted to by

Americans. It has generally more of the comforts considered necessary

for persons in delicate health than can readily be obtained in

Havana, and one has here the quiet and retirement which it is

impossible to find in the metropolis.

Here will be seen, as in all towns large or small in Cuba, a curious

place of amusement of circular form, called a "pit," where the natives

indulge their national passion for cock-fighting and gambling

combined. It is astonishing how pugnacious and fierce these birds

become by careful training; the instinct must be in them or it could

not be so developed. When brought together and opposed to each other

in battle, one must die, and often both do so, for they will fight as

long as they can stand on their feet. The pit is always crowded, and

the amount of money which changes hands daily in this cruel mode of

gambling is very considerable. Women not infrequently attend these

contests, but only those of the pariah class, certain back seats being

reserved for them, while here and there may be seen a shovel-hatted

priest, as eager in the result as the professionals themselves. The

cock-pit is a circular building, thirty or forty feet in diameter,

resembling on the outside a huge haystack. The size, however, is

regulated according to the population of the immediate neighborhood.

The seats are raised in a circle, one above another, about a central

ring in which the contest takes place. The ground is covered with

sawdust or tan. The birds are of a native game breed, and are subject

from chickenhood to a peculiar course of treatment. The English

game-cock is prized here only for crossing with the native breed. He

cannot equal the Spanish bird in the necessary qualities of pluck and

endurance.

The food of the game-cock when in training is regulated with great

care, carefully weighed, and a certain number of ounces is given to

him three times a day, so that the bird, like a race-horse, is never

permitted to grow fat, but is kept in what is called fighting

condition. Some days before a contest they are fed with a few ounces

of raw meat once during the twenty-four hours, which, being kept

always a little hungry, they devour with avidity. Greater care as to

diet and exercise could not be taken by pugilists training for a

conflict. The feathers of these fighting-cocks are closely cropped in

a jaunty style; the neck and head, to the length of three inches, is

completely plucked of all feathers, the comb being trimmed close to

the crown. The flesh which is thus left bare is daily rubbed with rum

until it becomes hardened and calloused. Brief encounters are

permitted among them under proper restrictions, when they are young.

No fear is felt that they will seriously injure each other, until they

are old enough to have the sharp steel gaffs affixed upon the spurs

with which nature has supplied them. Then, like men armed with sword

and dagger, they attack each other with fatal earnestness, making the

blood flow at every stroke. It is singular that the birds are so

determined upon the fight that no amount of loud cries, or challenges

between the betters, or jeers by the excited audience, disturbs them

in the least.

The author witnessed one of these exhibitions at Guines. The

fighting-ring of the cock-pit was some twelve feet in diameter, the

seating capacity being arranged for about a hundred persons or more,

and each bench was fully occupied. The two birds pitted against each

other were carefully weighed, and the result was announced to the

audience. They were then passed in review, held in the hands of their

respective owners, and betting at once commenced as to which would

win the victory. In the mean time the two birds seemed quietly

awaiting their time, and by the knowing way in which both surveyed the

surroundings and the assembled people, they really appeared as if they

understood the business in hand. There was no struggling on their part

to get out of the hands of those who held them. Presently they were

passed into the care of the umpires, two of whom officiated, and who

then affixed the steel gaffs to the spurs of the contestants. The two

birds were then placed on the ground inside of the ring, opposite each

other. No sooner did they feel themselves fairly on their feet than

both crowed triumphantly, eying each other with fell intent.

Then commenced a series of bird-tactics, each partially advancing and

pretending to retreat as if to draw on his antagonist, pecking the

while at imaginary kernels of corn on the ground. In the mean time the

audience almost held its breath in anticipation of the cunningly

deferred onset. Presently the two birds, as if by one impulse, rushed

towards each other, and a simultaneous attack took place. The contest,

when the birds are armed with steel gaffs, rarely lasts more than

eight or ten minutes before one or both are so injured as to end the

fight. The money staked upon the fight is won by those backing the

bird which survives, or is longest in dying. When the artificial spurs

are not used, and the birds fight in their natural state, the battle

sometimes lasts for an hour, but is always fatal in the end to one or

the other, or both. Eyes are pecked out, wings and legs broken, necks

pierced again and again; still they fight on until death ensues.

During the fight the excitement is intense, and a babel of voices

reigns within the structure, the betting being loud, rapid, and high.

Thus in a small way the cock-fight is as cruel and as demoralizing as

that other national game, the terrible bull-fight, indigenous to Spain

and her colonies.

Cuba has justly been called the garden of the world, perpetual summer

smiling upon its shores, and its natural wealth and possibilities

baffling even the imagination. The waters which surround it, as we

have seen, abound with a variety of fishes, whose bright colors,

emulating the tints of precious stones and the prismatic hues of the

rainbow, astonish and delight the eye of the stranger. Stately and

peculiar trees enliven the picturesque landscape. Throughout the woods

and groves flit a variety of birds, whose dazzling colors defy the

palette of the artist. Here the loquacious parrot utters his harsh

natural notes; there the red flamingo watches by the shore of the

lagoon, the waters dyed by the reflection of his scarlet plumage. It

would require a volume to describe the vegetable and animal kingdom of

Cuba, but among the most familiar birds are the golden robin, the

bluebird, the catbird, the Spanish woodpecker, the gaudy-plumed

paroquet, and the pedoreva, with its red throat and breast and its

pea-green head and body. There is also a great variety of wild

pigeons, blue, gray, and white; the English lady-bird, with a blue

head, scarlet breast, and green and white back; the indigo-bird, the

golden-winged woodpecker, the ibis, and many smaller species, like the

humming-bird. Of this latter family there are said to be sixty

different varieties, each sufficiently individualized in size and

other peculiarities to be easily identified by ornithologists. Some

of these birds are actually no larger in body than butterflies, and

with not so large a spread of wing. A humming-bird's nest, composed of

cotton interlaced with horse-hair, was shown the author at Buena

Esperanza, a plantation near Guines. It was about twice the size of a

lady's thimble, and contained two eggs, no larger than common peas.

The nest was a marvel of perfection, the cotton being bound cunningly

and securely together by the long horse-hairs, of which there were not

more than three or four. Human fingers could not have done it so

deftly. Probably the bird that built the nest and laid the eggs did

not weigh, all fledged, over half an ounce! Parrots settle on the sour

orange trees when the fruit is ripe, and fifty may be secured by a net

at a time. The Creoles stew and eat them as we do pigeons; the flesh

is tough, and as there are plenty of fine water-fowl and marsh birds

about the lagoons as easily procured, one is at a loss to account for

the taste that leads to eating parrots. The brown pelican is seen in

great numbers sailing lazily over the water and dipping for fish.

Strange is the ubiquity of the crows; one sees them in middle India,

China, and Japan. They ravage our New England cornfields, and in

Ceylon,--equatorial Ceylon,--they absolutely swarm. When one,

therefore, finds them saucy, noisy, thieving, even in Cuba, it is not

surprising that the fact should be remarked upon, though here the

species differs somewhat from those referred to, being known as the

Jack-crow or turkey-buzzard. In the far East, like the vulture, the

crow is considered a natural scavenger or remover of carrion, and the

same excuse is made for him in Cuba and Florida. But is he not more of

a freebooter and feathered bandit,--in short, a prowling thief

generally? Nature has few birds or animals upon her varied list with

which we would find fault, but the crow,--well, having nothing to say

in its favor, let us drop the subject. Parrots, paroquets, tiny indigo

birds, pedorevas, and robins,--yes, these are all in harmony with

mingled fragrance and sunshine, but the coal-black crow, with his bad

habits and hoarse bird-profanity, bah! When these West Indian islands

were first settled by Spanish emigrants, they were the home of myriads

of birds of every tropical variety, but to-day the feathered beauties

and merry songsters have been entirely driven away from some of the

smaller islands, and decimated on others, by the demand for bird's

wings with which to deck ladies' bonnets in Europe and America.

Sportsmen have found it profitable to visit the tropics solely for the

purpose of shooting these rainbow-colored creatures for ornaments.

Aside from the loss to general interest and beauty in nature caused by

this wholesale destruction of the feathered tribe, another and quite

serious result has been the consequence. A plague of vermin has

followed the withdrawal of these little insect-killers. It is so

natural to look for them amid such luxuriant vegetation that they

become conspicuous by their absence. Now and again, however, the ears

are gratefully saluted by the trilling and sustained notes of some

hidden songster, whose music is entirely in tune with the surrounding

loveliness, but truly delightful song-birds have ever been rare in the

low latitudes, where there is more of color than song.

Those agriculturists who possess sufficient means confine themselves

solely to the raising of sugar, coffee, and tobacco, the former

principally employing capital. Indian corn, which the first settlers

found indigenous here, is quite neglected, and when raised at all it

is used before ripening, almost universally, as green fodder; very

little is ripened and gathered as grain. It is found that horses and

cattle can be kept in good condition and strength, while performing

the usual labor required of them, by feeding them on a liberal

allowance of cornstalks, given in the green state, before the corn has

begun to form on the cob. The Cubans will tell you that the nourishing

principle which forms the grain is in the stalk and leaves, and if fed

in that state before ripening further, the animals obtain all the

sustaining properties which they require. The climate is particularly

adapted to the raising of oranges, but there is very little attention

given to propagating this universally popular fruit, more especially

since the increased production which has taken place on the other side

of the Gulf Stream in Florida. Three years after the seed of this

fruit is deposited in suitable soil in Cuba the tree becomes ten or

twelve feet in height, and in the fourth year rarely produces less

than a hundred oranges, while at ten years of age it commonly bears

three and four thousand, thus proving, with proper care, extremely

profitable. It will be remembered that it is the longest lived of

succulent fruit trees. There are specimens still extant in Cuba known

to be one hundred years old. The oranges produced in Florida are of

equally good quality, and bring a better price in the market, but the

crop is subject to more contingencies and liability to loss than in

Cuba. The frost not infrequently ruins a whole season's yield in the

peninsula in one or two severe nights, while frost is never

experienced upon the island.

It seems unreasonable that when the generous, fruitful soil of Cuba is

capable of producing two or three crops of vegetables annually, the

agricultural wealth of the island should be so poorly developed.

Thousands upon thousands of acres of fertile soil are still in their

virgin condition. It is capable of supporting a population of almost

any density,--certainly from eight to ten millions of people might

find goodly homes here, and yet the largest estimate at the present

time gives only a million and a half of inhabitants. When one treads

the fertile soil and beholds the clustering fruits in such abundance,

the citron, the star-apple, the perfumed pineapple, the luscious

banana, and other fruits for which our language has no name, not

forgetting the various noble woods which caused Columbus to exclaim

with pleasure, and to mention the palm and the pine growing together,

characteristic types of Arctic and equatorial vegetation, we are

struck with the thought of how much Providence and how little man has

done for this Eden of the Gulf. We long to see it peopled by men who

can appreciate the gifts of nature, men who are willing to do their

part in recognition of her fruitfulness and who will second her

spontaneous bounty.

Nowhere on the face of the globe would well-directed, intelligent

labor meet with a richer reward, nowhere would repose from labor be so

sweet. The hour of rest here sinks upon the face of nature with a

peculiar charm; the night breeze, in never-failing regularity, comes

with its gentle wing to fan the weary frame, and no danger lurks in

its breath. It has free scope through the unglazed windows, and

blowing fresh from the broad surface of the Mexican Gulf, it bears a

goodly tonic to the system. Beautifully blue are the heavens and

festally bright the stars of a tropical night, where familiar

constellations greet us with brighter radiance and new ones charm the

eye with their novelty. Preëminent in brilliancy among them is the

Southern Cross, a galaxy of stars that never greets us in the North.

At midnight its glittering framework stands erect. That solemn hour

past the Cross declines. How glorious the nights where such a heavenly

sentinel indicates the watches! "How often have we heard our guides

exclaim in the savannas of Venezuela," says Humboldt, "or in the

deserts extending from Lima to Truxillo, 'Midnight is past, the Cross

begins to bend.'" Cuba is indeed a land of enchantment, where nature

is beautiful and bountiful, and where mere existence is a luxury, but

it requires the infusion of a sterner, a more self-reliant,

self-denying and enterprising race to test its capabilities and to

astonish the world with its productiveness.

Due South; or, Cuba Past and Present · 第 11 / 16 章