ugh novel scenes,
yet I was glad when 5 o'clock came and we emerged from the jungle on to
the coast road. It was sandy, but well traveled. Another mile and we
were in Cajio, and the Caribbean, blue and lovely as a dream, lay spread
before us, with hundreds of palm crowned islets and coral bays, all with
sandy beaches of dazzling whiteness.

Senor Andrez had a house here, and as they had notice of our coming
everything was prepared for our reception. Entering the house, we were
served with black coffee and thin rice cakes fried. Gray and I wanted a
swim before supper in the waters, which looked very tempting, but it
would have been a breach of etiquette to indulge then--and, by the way,
there is a strange repugnance to water inherent in the Spanish nature,
there being no bathhouses in Spain, they say, and I believe it. Gray and
I, during the next few days, were in and out of the water at all hours,
but could never persuade any one else to try the experiment of a swim in
the warm water of the Caribbean. At the house, or when out in boats, we
frequently invited some of the company to join us in a plunge, but none
ever accepted the invitation. We are told on good authority that "our
virtues depend on the interpretation of the times," and one might add
"on the interpretation of our nation." The Anglo-Saxon loves soap and
water and plenty of it; the Spaniard does not. But this contrast may
mean nothing in our favor; there may be a reason for it, racial
probably, but possibly climatic.

Supper came, and it was a treat. Gray and I noted that in suitability of
material to the purpose intended, and in cookery, it excelled anything
in our experience. Cafe Riche and Tortoni's were not in it. We were
curious to see the cook. She was ordered in for our inspection, a sober,
sad-faced negress, angular, bony, and, strangely enough, knew only a few
words of Spanish, her language being some African dialect, Africa being
her natal place, as it, indeed, was of most of the slaves.

What views of life, what views of the Christian world most of these
slaves must have! Torn from their homes, leaving their slaughtered
family on the ashes of their homes, and carried off to toil and wear out
the only life nature will ever give them--for what? To toil amid hunger
and abuse too foul to name in order that the Christian robber may have
gold to gratify his desire.

[Illustration: "ANOTHER SECOND WOULD HAVE ENDED MY LIFE."--Page 371.]

She was evid