And I was repeatedly told that the women who enter that foul hole all become common to the men, not because they wish to become so, but because the overseers do not protect them from the unwelcome advances of the men!
On the "Santa Fe" ranch the mandador, or superintendent, sleeps in a room at one end of the slave dormitory and the cabos, or overseers, sleep in a room at the other end. The single door is padlocked, but a watchman paces all night up and down the passageway between the rows of shelves. Every half hour he strikes a clamorous gong. In answer to a question Senor Rodriguez assured me that the gong did not disturb the sleeping slaves, but even if it had that the rule was necessary to prevent the watchman from going to sleep and permitting a jail-break.
Observing the field gangs at close range, I was astonished to see so many children among the laborers. At least half were under twenty and at least one-fourth under fourteen.
"The boys are just as good in the planting as the men," remarked the Presidente, who escorted us about. "They last longer, too, and they cost only half as much. Yes, all the planters prefer boys to men."
During my ride through fields and along the roads that day I often wondered why some of those bloodless, toiling creatures did not cry out to us and say: "Help us! For God's sake help us! We are being murdered!" Then I remembered that all men who pass this way are like their own bosses, and in answer to a cry they could expect nothing better than a mocking laugh, and perhaps a blow besides.
Our second night in Valle Nacional we spent on the Presidente’s plantation. As we approached the place we lagged behind the Presidente to observe a gang of 150
