CHAPTER IX.
THE CARIBS
The Indians whom Ponce de Leon and his followers treated so unkindly were gentle and generous, as I have said. They were not eager for war, like many of the tribes on the continent, nor savage in their habits. They wore short girdles of cotton cloth, raised crops of corn and manioc, and built large canoes in which they took quite long voyages. They wrought the gold found in the streams into ornaments.
This tribe of Indians was very numerous at the time the Spaniards first came to the West Indies, but now there is not a single trace of them left. War with the Spaniards, hard work for their masters in the mines and fields, – these made the race die out rapidly.
It is sad to think that the Spaniards tortured them also.
Is it any wonder that the natives did not care to share the Spaniards' heaven, but died hating them with all their hearts?
Long before Ponce de Leon came to Porto Rico, the poor Indians were attacked from time to time by other enemies; but although they suffered much, they were never conquered. These enemies were the Caribs, who seemed to love war better than anything else in the world.
Sometimes the people would be strolling along the shores of the island when they would see something out on the ocean which looked like a mass of floating palm leaves. That did not frighten them, of course, and they would go on with their sports.
When it was too late to give the alarm, they discovered that the mass of palm leaves was the covering of a boat-load of fierce warriors who were all ready to attack them.
Or perhaps their foes would hide themselves from sight in some other clever way until they were all ready to spring out of their boats and take the peaceful islanders by surprise.
You wonder, perhaps, where was the Caribs' home. They told legends of a far-distant land in the north, from which their own people had come. They had fought their way from Florida to South America, and feared no one in the world. They believed that their tribe had grown up out of the stones which had been planted in the soil.
They belonged to the great Indian, or red, race, as did the natives of Porto Rico, but their customs and natures were very different. They painted their faces to make themselves look as fierce as they felt. They were trained to fight from the time when they were little children. They loved to sail upon the ocean, and guided their boats by studying the stars.
When the Spaniards had settled in Porto Rico, the Caribs thought it would be an easy thing to master them in fight, and trouble them as they had troubled the poor natives. But the white men were a match for them, and, when they landed on the shores of the island, the Spaniards entrapped them and drove them over the side of a cliff down into the water below. Not one Carib lived to tell the story of that fearful day.
Time passed by and many workers were needed, and as the natives became fewer the Spaniards sent ships to the coast of Africa and brought away the black people to be their slaves. To-day the negroes are all free and seem to be happy in their island home; but most of them are very, very poor, as are the greater part of the whites of Porto Rico. The rule of Spain has kept them so; and it was a glorious thing for these people when our soldiers, under General Miles, marched in triumph through the land.
CHAPTER X.
A SEASIDE PICNIC
Several weeks have passed since Manuel and Dolores went with their father to the cock-fight. It is a beautiful June evening, and the children are walking through the garden, planning a picnic at the seashore for to-morrow. Their mother comes out hastily on the veranda, and calls:
"Manuel! Dolores! come in at once out of the moonlight! You know well enough that animals will never lie with the moon shining upon them; they are too wise. Oh, the evil I have seen that has come from the moon! Don't you remember poor little Sancho? He is feeble-minded because his careless nurse let him sleep in the moonlight when he was a baby. Come quickly, my darlings, to the shade of the veranda."
Manuel and Dolores are a little frightened, and hurry toward the house, where they join the family in Spanish songs before going to rest.
When Juana wakes them, early the next morning, they hear the rain falling in torrents outside. That will not prevent the picnic, however, for they feel sure it will not last long. It is the beginning of the spring rains, and there are showers every day, but they seldom continue more than an hour. But, oh, how the rain falls when it does come! It seems as though the heavens opened and all the water in the sky fell at once.
By eight o'clock the shower is over, and Teresa, her duenna, Manuel, and Dolores are ready to start. The planter must be busy to-day, and his wife does not care to go.
A low, comfortable carriage is drawn up in front, the lunch is packed away under the seats, and the coachman is told to start. Ponce tries to follow, but Manuel orders him back. They will drive at least ten miles, but the roads are fine, it is down-hill all the way, and the views are beautiful.
The party soon cross a bridge over a little stream. There they see two women standing nearly knee-deep in the water. They are washing clothes and having a sociable chat at the same time. Two large, flat stones serve as scrubbing boards, and each one of the women holds a club in her hands.
"What is that for?" one asks. To beat the dirt out of the clothes! The garments are spread on the stones, rubbed with some native berries (instead of soap), then pounded with the clubs. Not a delicate way to handle fine linen, to be sure; but the women seem to enjoy their work, and stop every few minutes to sit on the banks and smoke their pipes.
When the party have nearly reached the seashore, the road leads through thick woods. Suddenly they hear a great scuttling among the trees. The driver stops his horses, and every one looks to see what is the matter.
It is nothing more nor less than an army of land-crabs on their yearly journey from the mountains to the sea. The children have often found one of them in the garden or the woods near the house, but such a number as this, they have never seen or heard before.
These land-crabs can fight, and can frighten the horses greatly, if they should choose to take the road. So Pedro very wisely uses the whip, and the party soon leave this queer army behind them. The crabs make a dainty dish when served with lime-juice and Cayenne pepper, and Manuel and Dolores are very fond of them served in this way.
A turn in the road brings the ocean in view. Dolores claps her hands in delight, and cries:
"Oh, what a lovely time we will have! I wonder who will find the most curiosities, Manuel, you or I."
Even the sober-faced duenna looks pleased as they drive out upon a smooth beach. How beautiful the ocean looks to-day! It is such a wonderful blue; much like the colour of the sapphire, and not at all like the waters of the northern seas.
The children take little baskets on their arms and trot about barefooted to see what they can find. It is a perfect paradise among beaches. Their American brothers and sisters would dance for joy at the sight of so many kinds of beautiful shells. And the starfish! Manuel finds one big fellow as much as ten inches across. It is not flat like those seen in the temperate zone, but at least six inches through the middle of his horny body. The little boy cannot get him off the rock to which he has fastened, but Pedro comes, and even he has to use all his strength to pull him away. A New York merchant is to visit the children's father very soon, and Manuel wants to send this starfish to his little son.
But there are other kinds of starfish here that are pretty and delicate. Dolores finds a dear little daisy-star only half an inch across, with fringes on its sides, and, a moment after, her sister picks up a fern-star.
What delights the children most of all are the bits of coral washed up by the waves. Some of the pieces are red, some black, and others white. One is quite large, and is formed in the shape of a fan, while another spray looks like a mushroom.
After luncheon is over, Manuel says:
"Dolores, let's try to find some sea-anemones. Do you see that rocky cliff at the end of the beach? Perhaps if we go there we can see some."
The children start off once more, and soon are climbing up over the rock. They creep along till they are able to look over its edge as it juts out over the water.
What a wonderful sight meets their eyes! It is the flower garden of the sea. Deep down under the clear waters they see many things living and growing that look for all the world like roses and marigolds, pinks and buttercups. What wonderful colours they have! Coral is indeed beautiful, but it cannot compare with the sea-anemones.
Manuel and his sister fairly hold their breath with delight.
"Oh, Dolores, isn't it strange that those lovely things are animals and not plants! There they stay in one place for ever, yet they are alive like the coral polyps. We must get Teresa to come and see them, too. She never saw them growing; I've heard her say so."
Manuel whispers these words as though he fears the anemones may hear him and hide themselves from his sight. Dolores answers, in her soft voice:
"Manuel, did you ever think about what our teacher told us, that the bottom of the ocean is like the land, with hills and valleys, mountains and caves? Many kinds of creatures live there, just as other kinds live on the earth; but it seems to me that the coral polyps and the sea-anemones are the strangest of all."
When the children get back to the others, they beg Alfonso to get a boat and row them around to where the anemones are growing. Perhaps they can reach some of them. But he tells them that their father has forbidden him to take them out on the water, for the terrible blue shark dares to come quite close to the shore, and, even in a row-boat, they could not be sure of safety if a shark should follow them.
He then tells them of adventures with sharks by people living near their own home.
After these stories Manuel and Dolores are quite willing to give up a row after anemones, nor do they care to go in bathing, even close to the shore.
The time comes all too soon to go home, and all enjoy the ride in the cool evening air. They have not travelled far before the moon rises and sends its light down through the tree-tops.
Dolores happens to be looking out of the carriage, when she sees an ugly-looking animal peering out from behind a bush. It is an iguana, with jaws and mouth like an alligator. He looks fierce enough to devour any one, but Alfonso assures the party that he is really a very timid creature, and will not fight unless he is cornered and cannot get away. He likes to live quietly by himself in the trees and bushes, and no doubt is afraid of the horses.
After awhile the children grow sleepy and doze in each other's arms till home is reached. Their father and mother are watching, and the dinner has been kept waiting until they should arrive.