THE TROPICS
In no country in the world is it possible to move from one extreme of
climate to the other in so short a time as in Mexico. Within less than
twenty-four hours one can travel from the sun-baked sands of the Gulf
coast to the snow-covered, conical peak of one of the great extinct
volcanoes, thus traversing every zone of vegetable life from the dense
tropical growth of the former to the stunted pines of the latter. By
railway it is a journey of only a few hours from the plateaus, at an
altitude of eight thousand feet, to the sea level, and a most interesting
ride it is. The Mexican Railway, which is the oldest railway in the
republic, runs from the capital to Vera Cruz and is the best route, for
its wonderful engineering feats and beautiful scenery have drawn tourists
from all parts of the world. Leaving the capital, the road skirts the
bank of Lake Texcoco, through a pass in the mountains surrounding the
Valley of Mexico, and across the Plains of Apam, the home of the maguey,
for a hundred and fifty miles before the exciting part of the trip is
reached.
The descent begins at Esperanza, which lies at the very foot of Mt.
Orizaba. Esperanza means “hope” and it is well named for the traveller
can “hope” for better things as the train approaches the coast. Noah’s
Ark rests near here, for I saw it with my own eyes labelled in plain
letters, _Arc de Noe_, but it is now—sad to tell—devoted to the sale of
pulque. Esperanza is eight thousand and forty-four feet above the sea
and one hundred and twelve miles from Vera Cruz as the track runs, but
much nearer as the crow would fly. There is a drop of four thousand, one
hundred feet in the next twenty-nine miles and it is one of the grandest
rides in the world. In places the road seems like a little shelf on the
side of a towering mountain while a yawning chasm awaits the coach below.
As soon as Boca del Monte (Mouth of the Mountain) is reached, only a few
miles from Esperanza, the downward impetus is felt and all the energy of
the curious double-ended English engines is devoted to holding back the
heavy train with its human cargo.
Passing through a tunnel here, the scene bursts upon the traveller
without any warning or prelude, in all its grandeur and magnificence.
The engine accommodatingly stops for water so that the passengers have
an opportunity to view this wonderful panorama. Maltrata nestles in the
hollow, a dozen miles away by rail, yet the red tiles of the roofs, a
red-domed church and the ever-present plaza gleam in the sunshine two
thousand feet directly underneath. The valley is almost flat and is
divided into squares by hedges and walls and, reflecting every shade
of green, looks like a checker-board arrangement of nature. Beyond the
valley, hill succeeds hill until they are lost in the purple haze of the
horizon, or are overtopped by snow-capped Orizaba. Indians appear here
with beautiful bouquets of roses, tulips and orchids, with their yellow,
pink and red centres, for sale. The train passes on over a narrow bridge
spanning a deep chasm and down the mountain until Maltrata is reached,
where the same Indians will greet you with the same bouquets, for they
have climbed down the two thousand feet in less time than it took the
train to reach the same level.
Leaving Maltrata the road enters a cañon called _El Infernillo_, the
Little Hell, goes through a tunnel and another beautiful valley,
running through fertile fields and by wooded hills, until Orizaba, the
border-land of the tropics, is reached.
This city at an altitude of four thousand feet is in the _tierra
templada_, the temperate region. This zone is as near paradise in the
matter of climate as any location on earth could well be. It retains most
of the beauties and few of the annoying insects and tropical fevers of
the hot zone. It has the moisture of the lowlands with the cool breezes
of the uplands and is well named “temperate zone” because of its fine
climate and equable temperature.
Orizaba is a town of thirty-five thousand people and a very beautiful and
interesting place with its palm-shaded streets and low Moorish buildings.
Its Alameda is a quaint, shady park with an abundance of flowers and
blooming trees. Along the street the orange trees thrust their laden
branches out into the highway over the low adobe walls. On the banks of
the stream the washerwomen beat their clothes to a snowy white upon the
smooth round stones. Life moves along in smooth, easy channels with these
people. And it is not to be wondered at, for there is
“A sense of rest
To the tired breast
In this beauteous Aztec town.”
Between Orizaba and Cordoba, a distance of sixteen miles, is perhaps the
best cultivated section in Mexico. The products of all the zones are
mingled and corn and coffee grow side by side as well as peach trees and
the banana. Cordoba is just on the border of the _tierra caliente_, or
hot country proper, and is a much smaller city than Orizaba. It is a very
old town and was founded as a place of refuge from the malarial fevers
of the coast lands. This region is noted for its fine coffee, and there
are numberless coffee plantations as well as many sugar _haciendas_. The
Mexican of the tropics can be seen here dressed in immaculate white.
Leaving Cordoba dense tropical forests of palm and palmetto begin to
appear. These alternate with groves of coffee and bananas, gardens of
mangoes, fields of pineapples and other tropical fruits. Nature begins to
manifest herself in her grandest productions. Birds of brilliant plumage
are seen. The towering trees, rocks and entire surface of the soil are
covered with bright flowers such as orchids, oleanders and honeysuckles
and luxuriant vines. These and the dense jungles are all reminders that
the tropics have been reached at last. Soon the train enters Vera Cruz,
the city without cabs, the landing-place of the great conquistador and
his cohorts.
The principal port now, as it has always been since the landing of Cortez
on the twenty-first day of April, 1519, is Vera Cruz, or, as he named
it, _La Villa Rica de Vera Cruz_—the Rich City of the True Cross. Most
Americans who pass through here leave by the very first train or boat
for fear of pestilence. I met one fellow-countryman there who was almost
beside himself because the boat he had expected to take was delayed a
couple of days. This city is reputed to be the favourite loafing-place of
the _stegomyia fasciata_ whose bite results in the _vomito_, or yellow
fever. If all the sensational reports sent out concerning this city were
true then “Pandora’s box was not a circumstance to the evils which Vera
Cruz contains.” I had read in Mr. Ober’s excellent work on Mexico of an
American consul who died here just thirteen days after reaching the port
that his ambition had led him to; and of the terrible ravages of the
scourge when deaths were averaging forty per day. I arrived there after
night had set in. Eating a light supper and seeing that my name was duly
posted on the big blackboard bulletin according to the custom prevailing
there, I retired to my room, and only breathed freely after securely
drawing the mosquito netting around my bed so that it would be impossible
for a _stegomyia_ to get through.
It was almost a surprise on the following morning to find able-bodied
Americans and husky Englishmen pursuing their avocations in an
unconcerned way as though such things as yellow fever or smallpox were
not to be thought of. Then, again, I was alarmed at the numerous red
flags hanging out, which I took to be quarantine flags, for everything
is different here. Upon investigation this alarm was dispelled, for
those places proved to be pulque-shops and the flag meant that a fresh
supply of the “liquor divine” had just been received. It is probably
true that Vera Cruz was a hot-bed for the _vomito_ a few years ago, but
Mexican statistics report only twelve deaths in 1904 and one hundred
and twenty-two in 1905 from this disease, which is not bad for a city
of thirty thousand people, where a large proportion of the population
cannot be made to obey the ordinary laws of sanitation. I doubt whether
the death rate is much greater than in our own cities on the Gulf coast.
This change is due to the better situation that has been brought about
by the authorities.
An adequate supply of pure water was the first important step in this
move for improved conditions. This was secured by utilizing the water
of the Jamapa River at a point about twelve miles distant and passing
this water through several filtering beds before turning it into the
mains which supply the city. A sewerage system has been constructed,
by means of which the sewerage is carried out and discharged into deep
water so that the harbour will not be contaminated. Disinfecting stations
have been established and a plant for the disposition of garbage. Then
in addition to the regular force of health officers, there is a large
volunteer street cleaning brigade. These volunteer forces are not on the
pay-roll and yet they do their work in a thorough manner even if their
methods cannot be approved. Their only reward is the enforcement of a
fine of five dollars for the protection of their lives. By the natives
these street cleaners are called _zopilotes_ but to an American they are
plain, every-day buzzards. Hundreds of these birds can be seen perched on
the roof-tops or waddling through the streets.
For centuries the port of Vera Cruz was the bane of vessel owners for
there was no protection from the severe “Northers” so prevalent on the
Gulf and it was one of the most inconvenient and dangerous harbours on
that coast. It was for this reason that Cortez destroyed the vessels
which had brought his forces over from Cuba. An excellent harbour has
been constructed at great cost and ocean-going vessels can now anchor
alongside of the main pier and unload. A large new union station will
at once be erected by the four railways entering this city on a site
adjoining the pier, which will further increase the facilities of this
port.
[Illustration: BRIDGE AT ORIZABA
THE BUZZARDS OF VERA CRUZ
AVENUE OF PALMS, VERA CRUZ]
The fortress of San Juan de Ulua, now a prison, and which is reached
by a short sail through the shark-infested harbour, is an interesting
structure and has seen many vicissitudes. Used as a fort for several
centuries by the Spaniards, it has successively been occupied by the
French, Americans, and again by the French and their allies in the war
of the intervention. The buildings in Vera Cruz are nearly all low,
one-storied structures of adobe, and the walls are tinted in red, yellow,
blue and green, thus furnishing to the eye a pleasing variety and, with
the bay, reminding one of Cadiz in old Spain. There is an attractive
plaza and an imposing avenue of the cocoanut palm. Vera Cruz is the
gateway to the capital and many millions of imports and exports pass
through here each year, as much as at all the other ports of Mexico
combined, leaving out Progresso, on the Yucatan coast, through which the
henequen traffic is carried.
Tampico is the second Gulf port in importance and on the completion
of a direct route to the capital will be a close rival to Vera Cruz.
Coatzacoalcos is the Gulf port of the Tehuantepec railway and will become
an important port. The Pacific coast affords better natural harbours.
Acapulco is one of the finest natural land-locked harbours in the world.
Though now of secondary importance because of the absence of railroad
connections, at one time this picturesque harbour sheltered the old
Spanish galleons engaged in the East India trade. Their freight was
unloaded there and transported overland on the backs of burros and mules
to Vera Cruz and re-shipped to Spain. Manzanillo is an important seaport
on that coast and will soon be connected by rail with the capital, when
its importance will be greatly increased. Other important ports on that
coast are Mazatlan, Guayamas, San Blas and Salina Cruz, the Pacific port
of the Tehuantepec route, where the great harbour is nearly completed.
The _tierra caliente_ comprises a fringe of low plains which extend
inland from the coast a distance varying from a few miles in width to a
hundred or more. From thence it rises by a succession of terraces until
the great inland plateaus are reached. The higher the altitude the lower
the temperature, and it is estimated that there is a change of 1.8 degree
Fahrenheit for each sixty feet of elevation in this region. This zone is
characterized by the grandeur and variety of vegetable life, and it is
an almost uninterrupted forest except where it has been cleared. A ride
through the tropics is a revelation of what nature can do when aided
by a never-ending succession of warm sunshine and abundant rain upon
rich soil. Trees of great height and size are interspersed among plants
which are generally of a tree-like nature, and are conspicuous for the
development of their trunks and ramifications. The innumerable species of
reeds and creeping plants that entwine themselves in a thousand different
ways among the trees and plants make a passage almost impossible. It
is for this reason that the natives always go around armed with the
_machete_, a long blade very much like a corn-cutter, for it enables
them to cut their way through the dense undergrowth, and is a protection,
should any danger be encountered. The palms which are ever associated
with the tropics are seen in great profusion and in countless varieties.
Millions of ferns and broad-leaved plants which would be welcomed in the
gardens and groves of northern homes are wasting their graceful beauty in
these jungles and wildernesses. Trees are covered with beautiful orchids
and vines coil about the trunks and limbs like great snakes, and then
drop down to the earth and take root again in the damp soil.
To those who know them the tropics are not so terrible, treacherous
though they may seem. Some enter this zone with a feeling of creepiness
as though they were entering a darkened sick-room sheltering some
malignant disease. They hesitate to breathe for fear that the very air
is poisonous and they may take in the germs of some malady with an
unpronounceable name. They shrink from nature as though she had ceased to
be the kind mother to which they were accustomed in the colder climates.
It is true that there is something horribly creepy and uncanny about this
inevitable tropical growth, which is so frail and fragile outwardly
but seems possessed of an unconquerable vitality. And yet in many of
the so-called unhealthy places, there is scarcely more danger to health
than elsewhere, if one but observes the same rules of right living.
Continuous hard labour, such as the northern farmer is accustomed to
devote to his little farm, is not possible. Exposure to the intense heat
of the sun at midday and the heavy rains will bring on fevers and malaria
just as surely as it produces the luxuriant vegetation. For this reason
the tropics will probably never be suited for colonization by the small
farmer who is fascinated with the possibilities offered by land capable
of producing two or three crops in a single year.
In general, Mexico is poorly supplied with rivers. However, along the
Atlantic coast they are very numerous and large, although not navigable
for any great distance, or for vessels large enough to be of much aid to
commerce. The size of the rivers is due to the great amount of rainfall,
which varies from seventy to one hundred and eighty inches annually.
When this is compared to an annual rainfall of twenty to forty inches in
the northern states of the United States, the conditions in the tropics
are better understood. This excessive rainfall washes down earth from
the higher ground and this, together with the layers of vegetable mold,
have formed soil from eight to fourteen feet in depth thus making it
practically inexhaustible. The temperature varies from 70° to 100°
Fahrenheit. The Pacific coast has a higher temperature and less rainfall
than the Gulf coast. However, there is a stretch of land extending north
of Acapulco along the coast and from eight to thirty miles wide that is
unrivalled for tropical beauty and productiveness. There are many rivers
and streams that traverse this land on the way from the great mountains
to the Pacific.
There is a charm about the life in the hotlands that is missing in
other parts of Mexico. Of all the inhabitants of that country, the
life of the people in the hot country is the most interesting. This is
probably due to the fact that these people have always had more freedom
than the Indians on the plateaus who were practically slaves for a
couple of centuries. The great estates there required sure help and
the natives were reduced to serfs. In the mines they were worked with
soldiers set over them as guards. In the hotlands it was easier to make
a living, for a bountiful nature supplied nearly all their wants. And
yet many employers of labour say that the peon from the hot country
makes the most satisfactory workman. These Indians seem like a superior
race. For one thing they are scrupulously clean which, in itself, is
a pleasing contrast to the daily sights in Northern Mexico. Water is
abundant everywhere; the extreme heat renders bathing a great comfort
and their clothes are kept immaculate. They are fond of social life and
almost every night groups can be seen gathered together in some kind of
entertainment.
[Illustration: AN INDIAN HOME IN THE HOT COUNTRY]
Their homes are different from those in the colder lands. The houses
of the middle and lower classes are built of bamboo or other light
material found in the tropical jungles, and thatched with palm leaves.
The upright bamboo poles are often set an inch or more apart thus giving
a free circulation of air. An Indian village generally consists of one
long, winding, irregular street lined on each side by these picturesque
huts, and bearing a strong resemblance to a village in the interior of
Africa. Down these streets swarm in equal profusion half-naked babies
and children long past the childhood stage dressed in the same simple
way, and hungry looking dogs. The hot country is sparsely populated in
comparison with the plateaus and there are no large cities, although
archeologists tell us that the earliest civilization seems to have been
located there. It could support a population many, many times larger with
ease.
The most productive parts of the world are found in the _tierra caliente_
which instead of being given up to impenetrable jungles, the homes of
reptiles and breeding place of poisonous insects, should be made to
produce those luxuries and necessaries which contribute to make civilized
life tolerable. All over the world the fruits and other articles of
the tropics are coming into greater demand each year. In the year 1906
the United States imported fruits and other food products of tropical
countries, not including coffee, to the value of more than $150,000,000,
or nearly two dollars for each man, woman and child in the country. Of
the purely tropical products, sugar was by far the largest item on the
list. Bananas to the amount of $11,500,000 were brought in, and were
second on the list with cacao a close rival for this place.
As yet Mexico supplies but a small portion of these articles to the
United States. Yet the possibilities of agriculture here are equal
to those of any similar lands, and this, together with superior
transportation facilities and a stable government, ought to greatly
increase the trade. In addition to the above items, this soil is well
adapted to the following fruits and useful products, all of which are
native to the soil: oranges, lemons, limes, pineapples, grapefruit,
vanilla bean, indigo, rubber, coffee, tobacco and many drug-producing
plants. It is difficult for the small farmer to succeed, as he cannot do
all his own labour in that climate and cannot get satisfactory help just
when it is needed. He could not afford to hire a force of labourers by
the year. Successful farming in the tropics can only be done on a large
scale with a regular force of labourers maintained on the plantation.
The title to the soil can be purchased cheaply but the first cost of the
land is probably not more than one-third of the ultimate cost by the time
it is cleared, planted, and the necessary improvements made. Furthermore
many tropical plants such as coffee, rubber and cacao require several
years of care before there is a profitable yield.
Coffee and banana culture go hand in hand, for the broad leaves of the
banana provide the shade so necessary to the young coffee trees. The
banana also furnishes a little revenue during the four or five years
before the coffee trees have fully matured. The coffee region is very
extensive, for it will grow at a height of from one to five thousand
feet, and flourishes best at an altitude of two to three thousand feet.
It requires plenty of warmth and moisture. The coffee, which is a tree
and not a bush, is set out in rows several feet apart, and will grow
twenty feet tall if permitted, but is not allowed to grow half that
height. The tree is flowering and developing fruit all the time but the
principal harvest is in the late fall. It is not allowed to ripen on
the tree, for when the green berries have turned a bright red, they are
gathered, dried in the sun, hulled and then marketed. The states of Vera
Cruz and Chiapas produce the choicest coffee, but it is cultivated all
over the republic where it is possible. Coffee was introduced into this
country from Arabia by Spanish priests and was found to be adapted to
the soil. The best grades are sent to Europe, for it is a common saying
throughout Mexico and Central America that only the poor grades of coffee
are sent to the United States. This is rather a slur on the tastes of the
American people, but such is our reputation down there.
“Looking at it from my point of view—the lazy man’s outlook—I can see
nothing so inviting as coffee culture, unless it be a fat ‘living’ in
an English country church,” says a writer. For myself, the one thing
that appealed to me above all others was the cultivation of the banana.
The returns are quick, the income regular and the profits large. I
travelled through the banana region of Honduras, where for thirty miles
the railroad passed by one plantation after another of the broad-leaved
banana plants growing as high as fifteen feet. Great fortunes have been
made by the banana-growers of that country and Costa Rica. This fruit
flourishes best in the lowlands. The preparation of the ground is very
simple, for the young banana plants are set out among the piles of
underbrush left after clearing and which soon decay in that climate.
After nine months or a year the plants begin to bear, and each stalk
will produce one bunch of bananas. The stalk is then cut down and a new
one, or several, will spring up from the roots and will bear in the same
length of time. Thus a banana plantation that is carefully looked after
will produce a marketable crop each week in the year, so that there
is a constant revenue coming in to the owner. The cultivation of this
delicious fruit, for which there is an ever-increasing market, brings the
quickest return of any tropical product.
[Illustration: RICE CULTURE]
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 so
frequently. Cacao is another truly tropical product. It is from the cacao
bean that chocolate is made. The trees are usually transplanted and
bear in about four years and the beans are gathered three or four times
a year. They are then removed from the pods and dried in the sun. The
trees will bear for many years. Orange culture along modern scientific
lines, such as are used in California and Florida, would be profitable,
for the crop matures earlier and could be marketed long before the fruit
has ripened in those states. The Mexicans are great rice eaters and
there is a good field for its culture. The cocoanut palm offers good
returns as there is a good market for its fruit. Rubber grows wild and
many plantations have been set out in rubber trees. In the past year
Mexico has shipped more than two million pounds of crude rubber, and the
production is increasing. Vast tracts of mahogany are found down toward
Guatemala in the states of Campeche and Tabasco. These great trees are
cut down, hewn square and then hauled by mules to a waterway where they
are formed into rafts and floated down to the ports. There is much waste
in the present crude way of cutting and marketing this valuable wood.
Logwood and other dyewoods are found in the same forests. The world’s
supply of chicle also comes from the same source.
What the Mexican tropics need is men of energy backed by capital
sufficient to utilize large tracts of this rich soil. It is true that
many plantations are now being cultivated and it is equally true that
many have been abandoned as failures after unsuccessful attempts at
cultivation. The fault has not been poor soil but poor management.
Promotion and success are not synonymous terms, and much of the promotion
has been done by unscrupulous persons whose only purpose was to dispose
of stock to the gullible. Richer soil cannot be found anywhere, but it
must be cultivated with intelligence and good judgment the same as in any
other part of the world, or failure will result.