Perched on the hilltops and sides, shaded by banana trees, are the
picturesque little huts of the laborers. Most of them pay no rent. Land
owners give them small patches of ground on the hillsides, which they
themselves do not care to till, in order to have the laborers near or on
the plantations to assist in cultivating or harvesting the sugar cane,
tobacco and coffee crops.
Here the peasant laborers build their cabins; and, when there is no work
for them on the plantations, they tend their gardens in a haphazard way.
By working a little each day they manage to make a scant living.
Five months of the year they labor for their landlords, receiving about
fifty cents a day.
The laborer is often paid in plantains. Fifty plantains are a day's pay.
On this he feeds his family, for the plantain is the Puerto Rican
peasant's bread.
The plantains left are taken to market and sold. One day a week is lost
in this way, for the market is often twenty miles away.
Near a stream on the mountain side we see a group of women. Some of them
are sitting on stones by the bank; others are standing in the hot sun in
midstream, and all are washing.
It is wash day, and they have brought their clothes here to wash them.
They have no tubs, wash-boards, clothes-pins, or clothes-lines.
Sometimes they have no soap. In place of this, they use the seed or
roots of the soapberry tree.
The soap-seed tree bears several months in the year. The seed is
inclosed in a yellow skin, and is black, and about the size of a marble.
The leaf of a vine, called the soap vine is also used for the purpose of
washing clothes.
The clothes are first soaked in the stream or pond, and then spread
upon a broad, smooth stone; after which they are pounded with clubs or
stones. When they are clean, they are spread out upon the bushes to dry
and bleach.
[Illustration: COOKING THE EVENING MEAL.]
Then the tired women rest under the trees, and chat, and perhaps smoke
until evening. When the hot sun has gone down in the west, they make
their damp and dry clothes up into huge bundles, lift them to their
heads, and plod homeward.
Let us follow them to their homes up on the mountain side. Some of the
huts are built closely together. Others are scattered about on lonely
ledges. Shall we go inside one of these huts? The woman who has just
returned has thrown her burden into a corner.
The fire has been carefully smoldered, and this she now blows into a
flame and then proceeds to prepare the evening meal.
About the other cottages are women squatting on their heels, gossiping
with one another. In the ditch near by little children paddle about.
Their voices are soft and pleasant, and their play merry and
good-natured. We hear no quarreling.
Now their mother calls them to bring in some sticks for the fire. When
these are added to the flame, the firelight shines out in the darkness
and guides the father on his homeward way.
He has been working on the coffee plantation near, and is now climbing
the narrow, winding path up the hill with his load of plantains. Perhaps
the wife will cook some for supper.
The children satisfy their hunger, and then creep into their corner or
hammock and are soon fast asleep.
Out in the darkness we hear the tinkle of a homemade guitar. Now
another, and then another, takes up the Spanish or Indian air. Perhaps
the beater of a drum is added to the little band of musicians which has
gathered in an open space near the small village.
The natives compose much of their own music, and wild, strange melody it
is. It seems to inspire one with a wish to dance. The Puerto Ricans are
very fond of this amusement, and when they hear the music of the band,
they gather around for a frolic.
Once a week, at least, they gather for a dance; and this, with their
cock-fighting and gambling, is almost their only form of amusement.
Few of these people can write or read. They have no books and can not
afford to buy even a newspaper.
The life of the peasant in Puerto Rico, you see, is not an easy or
pleasant one; but he does not suffer from cold or hunger, as do the poor
in northern countries.
* * * * *