M\v i, 1903.] 



THE INDIA RUBBER WORLD 



259 



At 5 o'clock I succeeded in 

 getting some coffee, which 

 greatly refreshed me, and at 

 9 o'clock boarded the con- 

 struction train, which was 

 made up of a wood burning 

 engine, a boxcar for passen- 

 gers, and two flat cars loaded 

 with railroad ties, mozos and 

 negroes. We crept along at 

 a snail's pace over the tempo- 

 rary track, which was not bal- 

 lasted and which had sunk al- 

 most out of sight sonu times 

 in the clayey mud and some- 

 times slid a foot or two to 

 right or left, threatening to 



overturn the car. That this latter was no idle dream was indi- 

 cated by several boxcars which we saw which had been tipped 

 off into ditches along the side. We finally reached Santa Rosa 

 and disembarked — that is, I did, and my cheerful planter 

 friend, Adams, while all the rest went on. Santa Rosa station 

 is not a largeone, the only building there being a ruined hut of 

 native build, that had been in use when the pioneer railway 

 camp was there. 



On the opposite side of the track, however, the land had 



been cleared and planted to Castilloa, a part of the Demarest 



estate, my first sight of the cultivated trees. They 



rubber were growing on a well drained hillside, in a rich, 



TREES 



loamy soil, with a substratum of clay, and, although 

 shedding their leaves, as they always do at the beginning of 

 the dry season, they looked thrifty and healthy. My com- 

 panion sent one of his men off through the forest to se- 

 cure horses, and while he did that I drank in the beau- 

 ties of that tropical scene. It was a glorious morning and 

 everything possessed the charm of novelty. The huge forest 

 trees, studded with orchids and epi- 

 phytes, the marvelously dense growth 

 where no clearing had been made, a 

 growth of trees, vines, and climbers so 

 thick that it would have been impossi- 

 ble to go ten feet through it without 

 cutting one's way, the parrots chatter- 

 ing in the trees, the brilliant macaws 

 flying to and fro, and the wealth of 

 flowers big and little, held me spell- 

 bound. I was awakened from my rev- 

 ery by Mr. Adams, who led me up over 

 the hill where lived the owner of the 

 rubber trees, who welcomed us warmly, 

 prepared an abundant meal and chatted 

 most entertainingly about the country 

 and its prospects. 



After a siesta, the horses having 

 come, we mounted and trotted gaily 

 away ; that is, Mr. Adams did, but as 

 1 had not been on horseback since I 

 was ten years old, I felt anything but 

 frivolous. A Mexican saddle, however, 

 kept me within bounds, and very soon 

 the trail entered the virgin forest and 

 got so rough and muddy that the trot 

 calmed down to a walk, much to my 

 satisfaction. 



I don't think I shall ever forget one 



REET SCENE IN CORDi 1 



particular place in that 1 >ad, 

 where we had to cross a mud- 

 dy ravine with steep, clayey 

 banks on either side, or how I 

 sat back as far as possible 

 while the horse slid down to 

 the bottom, and then suddenly 

 reversed my position and got 

 one hand tight in his mane 

 while he scrambled up the 

 other ; nor will I foiget how 

 he tried to get out of the mud 

 in the middle of the trail by 

 walking close to the trees, and 

 of my frantic efforts to keep 

 him away from the spiney 

 palms and numerous other 

 bristling projections of the forest. We finally emerged into 

 the open, however, and as we came out my companion asked 

 me how I liked it. I had by that time gotten into the spirit 

 of the thing and was thoroughly enjoying it, so that I could 

 conscientiously say, "first rate." 



" Well, that's the worst trail around here," he replied; "1 

 thought you might as well have that at the beginning." 



The rest of the ride was through a magnificent stand of culti- 

 vated Castilloa trees, planted on rolling ground, about nine feet 

 apart, showing every evidence of intelligent care. 

 a About half an hour later we drew up at Newmark's 

 resting D ] antal j on which is known as " El Kitero," and is a 



PLACE. V . , 



private venture embracing some 400 acres ol land, on 

 which are about 50,000 rubber trees planted four or five feet 

 apart in the rows. They looked finely, and indeed the whole 

 place, with its coffee, bananas, etc., appeared to be most flour- 

 ishing. Here I was treated to a small red banana about the 

 size of one's thumb, that was the most delicious bit of fruit 

 one can imagine. I now parted from Mr. Adams, and, being 

 taken in charge by Mr. Newmark, soon 

 reached " La Ventura," and entered 

 the house that was to be my head- 

 quarters during my stay in the Trini- 

 dad river district. 



I had not seen my friend Harvey, the 

 founder of this tropical enterprise, since 

 we dined together at the Lotos Club in 

 New York four years before. He was 

 then yearning to shake the snows of 

 the north from his feet and hasten back 

 to the land where winter was unknown. 

 I doubt if he believed that I would ever 

 redeem my promise given then to visit 

 him, and it was not for some time that 

 1 learned the cause for this scepticism. 

 It seems that many northerners come 

 to the City of Mexico — some venture 

 to 1 irizaba and points easy of access 

 (urthersouth, but few get as far as Ach- 

 otal. < )nly a short time previous a 

 well known New York lawyer arrived 

 there at one in the morning, saw 

 what he was " up against," boarded 

 the train and started back, though 

 within 10 miles of his destination, 

 and that was why my host ex- 

 claimed: 



" By Jove, you are really here ! " 



FICUS BENJAMINA. 



