received
in the open front of the casa (house) and given heavy, straight-backed,
leather-bottomed chairs of an antique pattern. The agua furnished was
rain water which had been stored in a cistern, and had at least the
virtue of being wet. There were at home an old man, a very fleshy
elderly woman, and two rather good-looking girls, the appearance and
dress of one of whom indicated that she was a visitor. This was about
the only shack we saw where there were no young children in evidence. We
tarried but a few minutes. After making inquiries about the road, as we
did at almost every house, we continued on our way.

For the next three or four miles we had a good hard trail through the
woods, but saw neither habitation nor opening. Shortly after noon we
emerged from the woods into an open space, where, on slightly elevated
ground, stood two shacks. We had been here before and knew the man who
occupied one of them. There was no land under cultivation in sight, and
the only fruit a custard apple tree and a few mangoes. There were a good
many pigs roaming about, and the shack we entered contained several
small children. Our Cuban friend seemed glad to see us; his wife brought
us water to drink, and we were invited to sit down. Our social call
would have been more satisfactory if we had known more Spanish, or our
host had spoken English. We made but a brief stay, and on departing
asked the Cuban to point out to us the road to Puerto Principe. Since
leaving the woods we had seen no road or trail of any sort. He took us
around his house and accompanied us for some distance, finally pointing
out an indistinct trail across high savanna land which he said was the
right one. This path, which could hardly be seen, was the "road" from
the coast to the third largest city in Cuba, only about thirty miles
away! Such are Cuban roads. At times you can only guess whether you are
in a road or out of it.

What lay before us was now entirely unfamiliar. At about one o'clock we
halted by the side of the trail for a midday rest and lunch. We were a
dozen miles from La Gloria, and about an equal distance from the Cubitas
mountains, through which we were to pass. An hour later we took up the
march again. We soon entered the woods and found a smooth, firm trail
over the red earth. We passed through miles of timber, of a fine,
straight growth. In the thick woods but few royal palms were seen, but
in the more open country we saw some magnificent gro