316 



THE INDIA RUBBER WORLD 



[April 1, 1912. 



restaurant was run by a thrifty Chinaman, who gives the traveler 

 all he can cat in twenty minutes for an American dollar. He 

 also makes it easy for the eater to hurry. At each place is a stack 

 of six plates. Throughout tlic length of the wide tables are 

 stacked huge plates of chicken, ham, beef, beans, cakes, pies and 



flourish there unless it were the Manihot. I knew little of 

 Baracoa beyond the fact that it was the first capital and the 

 oldest town on the island. It was out of the track of the tourist 

 and few Americans or even Cubans seemed to have been there. 

 I finally engaged passage on a Cuban steamboat that ran from 



Tr.mn Lo.\ds of Sugar C.'^ne. 



doughnuts, and tlie way viands disappear is astonishing. In the 

 midst of our meal the through train from Havana to Santiago 

 steamed in and we got aboard for the last section of the railroad 

 journey. This train was equipped with Pullman cars and w^as 

 thoroughly comfortable. The roadbed was also good and we 

 ran smoothly tlirough many tlirifty looking villages and finally 

 reached the narrow pass of the Christo and slid down the steep 

 hill to Santiago. The big stone station was crowded. Ignoring 

 much native advice as to the various hotels, I chose the Casa 

 Granda and in a big barge pulled by a couple of hard galloping 

 mules, was soon jolting up the steep crooked streets to the busi- 

 ness and residential part of the city. To my surprise I was 

 welcomed at the 

 hotel by the pro- 

 prietor, wlio liad 

 formerly been 

 head waiter in a 

 well - k n o w n 

 French restau- 

 rant in .Xew 

 York. He recog- 

 nized me, and 

 thereafter the 

 best that Santi- 

 ago afforded was 

 mine. I should 

 like to pause here 

 and dwell upon 

 the beauty of the 

 old city, on the 

 visits to San Juan 

 Hill and the 

 other battlefields, 

 to comment upon 

 the queer ming- 

 ling of American 

 and Cuban cus- 

 t o ni s, moneys 

 and sports; Ijut after all my oljjective was Baracoa and CastiUoa, 

 so I must perforce refrain. 



Perhaps I should make it plain that I had heard of certain 

 sheltered valleys at this end of the island of Cuba, where rubber 

 was already flourishing, having been planted by some of the 

 wealthy cocoanut growers. What the rubber was no one seemed 

 to know. Indeed, as I looked at the barren hills surrounding 

 Santiago I could think of no ruljber tree that would be likelv to 



E.NTRA.NXE TO S.\XTI.\Cl) B.W, WHFRE THE MeRRIM.XC S-\NK. 



LcOKIXG Dow X o.\ S.\XT1.\G0. 



Santiago to Havana stopping at many ports en route including 

 that which I sought. Awful tales of dirt, garlic and discomfort 

 were passed out to me by a couple of American drummers who 

 had travelled on the same boat. As usual the tales were ficti- 

 tious. I found the Habana, although very small and incredibly 

 slow, clean, well-found, and handled by Spanish-speaking officers, 

 who were m^ost dignified and courteous. 



We sailed at nine in the morning, out through the beautiful 

 land-locked bay and the narrow and crooked channel where the 

 Mcrrimac was sunk, by grim Moro Castle and then followed 

 the coast. At four that afternoon we ran into Guantanamo Bay 

 where three American battleships lay at anchor. After discharg- 

 ing a little cargo 

 and taking on a 

 little more, we 

 steamed out 

 again and con- 

 tinued alnng the 

 coast. it was 

 very calm and 

 clear and warm, 

 and so bright a 

 moonlight night 

 that we stayed 

 on deck very 

 late, watching 

 the dim shores 

 slip slowdy by. 

 \Vhen we awoke 

 the next morn- 

 ing we were off 

 the rugged and 

 \' e r y p i c t u r - 

 Lsque shores of 

 Baracoa. A little 

 later we entered 

 a narrow pass- 

 age in a reef and 

 dropped anchor in a tiny oval harbor on the steep encircling 

 slopes of which lies the city. Back of it and visible out to sea 

 for miles towers a great mass of rock, 2.000 feet high known as 

 "Yunque'' the .A.nvil. 



Here "Don Angel" met us with a carriage and boys to carry 

 the luggage and conducted us to "El Siglo XX" Hotel, which 

 as anyone would guess means the Twentieth Century Hotel. 

 This hotel was thoroughly Spanish. Onr rooms fronted on a 



