I was treated with great consideration by the entire population, who all seemed alike consequential and happy, when an opportunity was afforded to them of shaking me by the hand, and inquiring, “How do you do?”
As I have intimated, the Caribs, like the Mosquitos, practice polygamy; but the wives have each a distinct establishment, and require a fair and equal participation in all of the favors of their husband. If he make one a present, he is obliged to honor all the others in like manner; and they are all equally ready to make common cause against him, in case of infidelity, or too wide an exhibition of gallantry. The division of duties and responsibilities is rather extraordinary. When a Carib takes a wife, he is obliged to build her a house and clear her a plantation. But, this done, she must thenceforth take care of herself and her offspring; and if she desire the assistance of her husband in planting, she is obliged to pay him, at the rate of two dollars per week, for his services. And although the husband generally accompanies his wives in their trading excursions to Truxillo and elsewhere, he carries no loads, and takes no part in the barter. As a consequence, nearly all the labor of the villages is performed by the women; the men thinking it rather beneath them, and far from manly, to engage in other occupation than mahogany-cutting and the building of boats, in which art they are very expert, using the axe, saw, and adze with great skill. Altogether, the Caribs are kind, industrious, provident, honest, and faithful, and must ultimately constitute one of the most important aids to the development of the country. They are brave, and some companies, which have been in the service of the government, have distinguished themselves in the field, not less for their subordination than for their valor and powers of endurance. They are usually temperate, and it is rare to see one of them drunk, except during the continuance of some festival, of which they have several in the course of the year.
I remained but a few days at Brus, and availed myself of the departure of a large creer, or Carib boat, bound for Roatan, to take passage for that island. I could not prevail upon my host to accept any thing in return for his hospitality, except “El Moro,” for whom one of his children had conceived a strong liking, which the bird was far from reciprocating. Mischievous Moro! The last I saw of him was while waddling stealthily across the floor, to get a bite at the toes of his admirer!
Our course from Brus lay, first, to the island of Gunaja, distinguished historically as the one whence Columbus first descried the mainland of America. Our sole purpose there was to carry a demijohn of brandy to a solitary Scotchman, living upon one of the cays which surround it, to whom it had been sent by some friend in Belize. It had been intrusted to the Carib owner of the boat, who went thus out of his way to fulfill his commission, without recompense or the hope of reward. One would suppose that a demijohn of brandy was a dangerous article to intrust to the exclusive custody of Indians; but those who know the Caribs best have most faith in their integrity.
The Bay of Honduras is remarkable for its general placidity, and the extreme purity of its waters. It has a large number of coral cays and reefs on its western border, which almost encircle the peninsula of Yucatan, as with a belt. The fine islands of Roatan and Guanaja are belted in like manner, but there are several openings in the rocky barriers which surround them, through which vessels may enter the protected waters within.
APPROACH TO GUANAJA.
The wind was fresh and fair, the sky serene, and the sea was bright and sparkling in the sunlight. We swept on swiftly and gayly, the pine-clad mountains of Guanaja rising slowly and smilingly above the horizon. By-and-by the palm-trees on the surrounding cays became visible, their plumes appearing to spring from the clear waters, and to rise and fall with the motion of our boat. As we approached nearer to them, we could make out the cays themselves, supporting masses of emerald verdure, within a silvery ring of sand. Between them and the island, with its wealth of forest, the sea was of the loveliest blue, and placid as a “painted ocean.” But, before we reached their fairy-like shores, the wind died away, and our sail drooped from the mast. We were partly under the lee of the land, and the surface of the sea soon became
“——charmed in a calm so still
That not a ripple ruffled its smooth face.”