I was at work there and began to
pick some o' these 'ere guavas. I told 'em to git out, but they didn't
go. Then I went for 'em with this hoe. One of 'em drawed his machete,
but I didn't care for that. I knew I could reach him with my hoe before
he could reach me with his knife. They went off."

General Van der Voort laughed heartily, and evidently was satisfied that
the man with the hoe was able to protect himself without the aid of the
La Gloria police force.

The old man's name, as I afterwards learned, was Joseph B. Withee. Some
of the colonists who had become intimately acquainted with him
familiarly called him "grandpa," although he was not the oldest man in
the colony. His age was seventy-one years, and he hailed from the state
of Maine. None of his family or friends had come to Cuba with him, but
he had grown children living in the Pine Tree state. Alone and
single-handed he began his pioneer life in La Gloria, but he was not
daunted by obstacles or fearful of the future. On the contrary, he was
most sanguine. He worked regularly every day clearing and planting his
plantation, and was one of the first of the colonists to take up his
residence on his own land. He soon had vegetables growing, and had set
out strawberry and pineapple plants, besides a number of banana, orange,
and lemon trees. It was his boast that he had the best spring of water
in the colony, and it certainly was a very good one. Mr. Withee
declared that his health was much improved since coming to Cuba, and
that he felt ten or fifteen years younger. Everybody in the colony could
bear witness that he was remarkably active and industrious. Once his
relatives in Maine, not hearing from him, became alarmed, and wrote to
the company asking if he were alive and in La Gloria. I went down to his
plantation with the letter, and asked him if he was alive. He thought he
was, and suspended work long enough to sniff at the idea that he was not
able to take care of himself.

Mr. Withee was wont to admit that before he came to Cuba he had a weak
back, but the only weakness we were ever able to detect in him was an
infirmity of temper which foreboded pugnacious action. Most assuredly he
had plenty of backbone, and his persistent pugnacity was highly amusing.
He was always wanting to "lick" somebody, and I know not what my fate
will be if we ever meet after he reads these lines, although we were
excellent friends in La Gloria. I can imagine that my friend Wit