Young Hunters in Porto Rico/Chapter 11
CHAPTER XI.
THE CLUB ARRIVES AT SAN JUAN.
The Island of Porto Rico boasts of but three cities of importance: San Juan on the north, Mayaguez on the west and Ponce on the south. The mountainous country back of the seacoast is dotted with hundreds of villages and hamlets; but the 'means of communication from one place to another are very poor, the best highway being the military road from San Juan to Ponce, a splendid bit of engineering, which, as previously mentioned, runs over mountains nearly, if not all, of four thousand feet high.
San Juan, the capital, is the principal city, especially so far as shipping is concerned, for its harbor is one of the best the island affords. The city contains about 30,000 inhabitants; natives, Spaniards and negroes, and foreigners from all over the world. It is wedged in along the shore, between two frowning forts of whitish stone and a long line of battlements, once kept in good order, but now fast tumbling into decay.
In the city itself there are two plazas; one at the city hall and the other near Fort Christobal—both great meeting-places, in the evenings, for native dames and maidens, young and old men, and children. It is a merry crowd, that smokes, sings, dances, listens to the band, and otherwise amuses itself.
As the Dashaway came to anchor in the harbor, all the boys viewed the shore with interest. They could see row after row of the flat, square houses, set up in long blocks, with narrow and not over clean streets between. About every second house had its second story project over the first, and balconies were to be found everywhere, sometimes causing the street below to be little better than a tunnel.
"All ashore that's going!" cried old Jacob, and the small boat was lowered, and the boys and Robert Menden entered, along with their weapons and other traps, and then the Yankee sailor pulled them to the nearest dock.
Here a harbor officer met them, and a long conference ensued. Then the Dashaway was visited by the San Juan officials and inspected, after which the craft was assigned to a proper position in the harbor. It was at first thought to leave old Jacob in charge of the yacht; but at the last moment a native was engaged to watch the craft, and the Yankee went along with "his boys," as he was wont to call them.
"Now, lads, are you all ready for the trip?" questioned Robert Menden.
"We are," came in a chorus.
"Remember, you may have some dangers to face. Don't go if you would rather remain behind."
"Who's afraid," came from Bob. "I'm not."
"Nor I!" came from the others.
"I'm out fer dat hundred dollars wot was promised to me," put in Danny. "Just youse lead de way an' I'll be close in yer footsteps, see if I ain't."
Each of the lads had provided himself with a hunting suit, and a small pack containing a change of underwear, comb and brush, and the like. All carried a little money, which, in the city, was exchanged for Spanish silver; for it was correctly surmised that the natives in the interior would not take United States coin. To-day that is, of course, changed, and Uncle Sam's coin or paper money is as good as any.
The party of seven soon found themselves on the main street of San Juan. Robert Menden had made some careful inquiries, and without delay they set off for Caguas.
They had hired a native turnout to take them to the place, but the driver failed to turn up, and at last they set out on foot for the village.
The many sights to be seen at every hand were very interesting. Here were the milk and fruit peddlers, each with his wares hanging from a yoke balanced over his broad shoulders. And here were funny looking ponies and donkeys with huge burdens strapped to their backs. Native carts were rather scarce, but occasionally one would come lumbering along, with its broad and almost solid wheels, and its team of oxen or cows. The driver would walk by the team's side, lashing them with a long whip and yelling at them continually in very bad Spanish.
The people also interested the boys. A large proportion of them were black, the blacks increasing in number as the seacoast was left behind. Most of the colored men looked friendly enough, but here and there could be found fellows of mixed Carib blood—tall, ugly looking creatures.
"I reckon they are the Porto Rican brigands," whispered Dick, as they passed three of the ugly looking Caribs. "I don't think I would care to meet them of a dark night along a lonely road."
"These people have good cause to be ugly," put in Robert Menden. "Spain has robbed the natives for years by taxing them to death, and I understand that in many places the church has fallen into disrepute because the clergy do everything they can to get the money away from the sugar and plantation workers. It's really a sad state of affairs."
On they went, until San Juan was left behind and they struck the military road previously mentioned. The walking was all uphill, but the ascent was so gradual that they scarcely noticed it. On both sides of the road grew tropical trees of all sorts—palms, mangoes, guavas, cedar, mahogany, and that wood which can be found almost anywhere—hemlock. There were also plantains and great cacti, and over all trailed immense tropical vines. Close to the deep, black soil grew magnificent ferns, and such mosses as the boys had never before seen.
"Almost a paradise, isn't it?" remarked Don. "And how clear the air is—not half as hot as I imagined it would be."
"Jest you wait until noon afore ye speak o' the heat," returned old Jacob. "Old Sol don't git to work in earnest till about twelve or one o'clock."
They soon crossed a clear running brook, and leaving the bridge, Dick ran down to the water's edge to get a drink.
"Drink through your handkerchief!" called out Robert Menden.
"Through my handkerchief?"
"Yes."
"What for?"
"Because you don't want to swallow a lizard or worse. These waters are full of small animal life, so I've been told."
Dick did as the Englishman suggested. And he was glad of it, for while bending down he saw several tiny lizards or leeches swimming near at hand. "None in me, not if I know it," he murmured as he drew back. "I'll inspect everything that goes down my throat after this."
By noon they had covered several miles. The sun was out clear, and now the heat began to tell on them.
"I move we rest," suggested Leander; and this was readily agreed to, and they sat down under an immense plantain, covered with half ripe fruit—that fruit which we commonly know by the name of banana, although the real banana is red.
"Are there any wild animals in Porto Rico?" questioned Don.
"I'm sure I don't know," answered Robert Menden. "I shouldn't look for anything very large on an island of this size. All the large stock has probably been killed off by the natives."
"I reckon you'll find wild-cats here an' wild hogs," put in old Jacob. "An, let me tell ye thet a real wild hog is about as dangerous as a wolf or a leetle bear. But it ain't likely thet any wild animals would keep themselves around such a road as this. They would take to the mountains and stay there, so long as they could git enough to eat."
The rest was not half over when Dick grew restless, and arose to take a look at his surroundings.
"I'm bound to see all I can of the country," he said, with a smile. "Will you come, Leander?"
"Certainly," was the answer; and in a moment more the two chums were strolling off.
"Be back inside of fifteen minutes," shouted Robert Menden, and both called back that they understood.
There seemed to be a fine grove of orange trees to the left of the road, and toward this they made their way, wondering if they could pick up any fruit fit to eat.
"It must be fine to have such fruit ready to hand," observed Leander, as they entered the grove. "I reckon the natives don't know the value of what they've got."
"They might say the same of our apples, Leander. I'd rather have apples than oranges—that is, I mean for regular."
"Oh, so would I. Don't they grow apples?"
"I don't think so—anyway, not such apples as we have up North. It's too hot."
They soon found that the oranges were even more green than the plantains, or bananas, had been. They passed the grove and came out on a rocky stretch, overlooking a little valley where flowed a tiny stream, glistening like silver in the sunlight.
"Beautiful scenery," murmured Leander, and Dick agreed with him. Then a flock of gayly-colored birds flew out of some brush to the right of them.
"If I only had my gun," cried Dick—for their firearms had been left at the resting place.
"Let us see if we can't locate their nests," said Leander.
"I don't want to rob their nests," declared Dick.
"Neither do I; but we might have a look at the kind of eggs they lay."
So the pair set off through the brush and over the rocks. They had gone less than fifty yards when they came to a spot covered with long rushes.
"The ground seems to be shaky here," began Leander, when suddenly, without warning, the rushes gave way, and down plunged both boys out of the bright sunlight into almost total darkness.