P^LORIDA AND THE WEST INDIES 183 



that it was on my head to get it safe out of the 

 island. I vowed never again to lose sight of it 

 until there was salt water between me and Cuba, 

 and I kept my word. As I gravely stalked to a 

 cab with the precious rifle under my arm, it was 

 evident from the salaams of the police and gate- 

 keepers that I was mistaken for a personage. 



A very short acquaintance with this fascinating 

 city convinced me that not all Roosevelt's rough- 

 riders and Dewey's bluejackets could expel Spain 

 and Spanish ideals in more than name. Politically, 

 Cuba may be independent of the beautiful land that 

 lies between the Pyrenees and the sea, but it 

 remains more Spanish than American. I had left 

 the land of hustle for that of tiianana. Before I 

 left the boat, I surrendered my keys to a parti- 

 coloured official of the class that Americans designate 

 " Spiggoties " {i.e. from their refrain " Me no 

 spiggoty Inglis "), an attach^ of one of the Express 

 Companies, who swore, for the modest sum of four 

 dollars (i6s. 8d.), to see my baggage through the 

 Customs and deliver it at the Inglaterra not later 

 than half-past nine. It was then about seven 

 o'clock, and I cheerfully repaired to the hotel, 

 immoderately breakfasted at the " Miramar," the 

 best eating-house in Havana, and unsuspiciously 

 returned to the other hostelry for a bath and to 

 await a change of raiment in the privacy of my 

 room, shared only by the alligators. I looked for 

 the momentary arrival of my luggage from nine 

 until three in the afternoon, spending the interval 

 in demonstrating to the faithful companions of my 

 troubles that essays in biting hurt them more than 

 me. 



