to-day, but the whip is unseen. The fact
is, the labor on the plantations is now so nearly free labor that
there is little if any downright cruelty exercised as of yore. Or,
rather, we will qualify the remark by saying that there has been a
vast improvement in this respect on the side of humanity. The shadow
of the picture lies in the past. One could not but recall in
imagination the horrors which so long characterized these plantations.
The bloodthirsty spirit of the Spanish slaveholders had free scope
here for centuries, during which time the invaders sacrificed the
entire aboriginal race; and since then millions of Africans have been
slowly murdered by overwork, insufficient food, and the lash, simply
to fill the pockets of their rapacious masters with gold. Few native
Cubans are sugar-planters. These estates are almost universally owned
and carried on by Spaniards from the European peninsula, or other
foreigners, including Englishmen and Americans.

Occasionally, in the trip across the island, we passed through a crude
but picturesque little hamlet having the unmistakable stamp of
antiquity, with low straggling houses built of rude frames, covered at
side and roof with palm bark and leaves; chimneys there were
none,--none even in the cities,--charcoal only being used for cooking
purposes, and which is performed in the open air. About the door of
the long, rambling posada, a dozen or more horses were seen tied to a
long bar, erected for the purpose, but no wheeled vehicles were there.
The roads are only fit for equestrians, and hardly passable even for
them. At rare intervals one gets a glimpse of the volante, now so
generally discarded in the cities, and which suggested Dr. Holmes's
old chaise, prepared to tumble to pieces in all parts at the same
time. The people, the cabins, and the horses, are all stained with the
red dust of the soil, recalling the Western Indians in their war
paint. This pigment, or colored dirt, penetrates and adheres to
everything, filling the cars and decorating the passengers with a
dingy brick color. It was difficult to realize that these
comparatively indifferent places through which we glided so swiftly
were of importance and the permanent abode of any one. When the cars
stop at the small way-stations, they are instantly invaded by
lottery-ticket sellers, boys with tempting fruit, green cocoanuts,
ripe oranges, and bananas,--all cheap for cash. And here too is the
guava seller, with ne