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.
[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 s.p.a.ce 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 amus.e.m.e.nt, 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 c.o.c.k-fighting and gambling, is almost their only form of amus.e.m.e.nt.
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.
GLIMPSES OF OTHER CITIES.
We have now a very good idea of San Juan and of rural life in districts near it.
So let us travel about the island a bit, for glimpses of other parts of the country, and of the other important cities.
The most comfortable way to do this would be to make the voyage around the island on board the ship, going ash.o.r.e for sight-seeing when the ship makes port for freight.
But this would give us no opportunity to see the interior of the island; so we make up our minds to endure poor roads in order to enjoy the mild adventures that fall to our lot (as all good travelers should do).
We decide to celebrate the seventeenth of November, the anniversary of the discovery of the island, at the place where the ship of Columbus first touched land over four hundred years ago.
We find no Pullman cars on the railroad which leaves San Juan for Aguadilla; but the novelty of the ride takes the place of the luxuries to which we are accustomed at home.
[Ill.u.s.tration: SENDING SUGAR ABROAD.]
The train goes leisurely along at the rate of sixteen miles an hour. We are glad that it goes no faster, for it gives us an opportunity to see the beautiful country through which we are pa.s.sing.
The line follows the coast most of the way. Upon one side are frequent views of the ocean, and upon the other a constant panorama of wonderful scenery.
ARECIBO.
A ride of four or five hours brings us to Arecibo, a town of 7,000 people, on the north coast. It is the headquarters of the sugar industry, and the chief town of one of the most fruitful regions on the island.
The harbor is very poor, being little more than an open roadstead. Into this harbor empties a small stream called the Arecibo. Goods are transported on this river, to and from the town, in flat-bottomed boats, with the aid of long poles and by much patient pushing.
Along the river are valuable plantations of sugar and coffee, as also fine pastures.
Arecibo boasts one of the most handsome and artistic plazas on the island. These plazas are usually paved with stone and devoid of vegetation; but this one has a small park in its center, surrounding a beautiful fountain.
The cathedral, which faces the plaza, is larger than usual, and more modern than most of the church buildings in the West Indies.
[Ill.u.s.tration: CATHEDRAL AT ARECIBO.]
AGUADILLA.
After a night spent in Arecibo we wish to hasten on to Aguadilla, but the railroad, we find, will not carry us so far. It ends at Camuy, a few miles west of Arecibo. Here we take a carriage for the remainder of the journey.
[Ill.u.s.tration: DRYING AND HULLING COFFEE.]
The old-fashioned coaches are drawn by small ponies, and these brave little animals carry us up hill and down hill, through deep mud holes, over rocks, into and out of ruts, at a terrific pace.
We wonder that the carriage does not break and spill us out. The driver lashes the poor beasts until it seems as if his arms must be lame, but our protests have no effect on him.
Aguadilla, a quiet, peaceful little city of 5,000, lies on the western coast. Here Columbus landed in search of water when he made his second voyage.
He found a clear, rippling spring, with the water filled his casks, and continued on his way. On the sh.o.r.e stands a cross marking the spot where his boat"s keel touched the sand.
The town has beautiful trees, and is surrounded by choice grazing-lands.
It is noted for its fish, sugar-cane, sweet oranges, and lemons.