They did not stop at Caguas but pushed on directly for Cayey, fifteen miles to the south-westward. They now passed numerous villages, each but a collection of thatched huts, some standing directly on the ground and others, near the water, on little stilts. But few animals were visible outside of cows and sheep. Of poultry there was a large quantity, and at one spot they came upon a group of natives watching a cock fight directly in the middle of the road. The cocks had been fighting for some time, evidently, for both were horribly wounded.
“What a barbarous custom!” exclaimed Sam, with a shudder. “I hope that our government puts a stop to that sport.”
“It will come in time, Samuel,” said the professor. “But everything cannot be done at once. As it is, I am glad there are no more bull fights.”
At the streams they passed they would often come upon native women washing clothes and numerous youngsters in bathing. Youngsters also filled the roadway at certain villages, running and shouting in their sport. The majority wore but little clothing, and in some cases they acted as if even this was a burden to them. A good many would run away on seeing the Americans and shout out in Spanish, “the shooters!” thinking of the soldiers that had fought on the island during the late war.
“This whole territory was in a state of suspense during the war,” said Professor Strong. “The army was under General Miles and an advance was made from three different directions. The natives were secretly in sympathy with our soldiers, but Spain had many soldiers here and the natives were forced to obey them. The fighting was stopped in the midst of a battle, when a messenger appeared with news that an armistice had been agreed upon. Then, as you know, the war came to an end, and some time later, Porto Rico was ceded by Spain to the United States, along with the Philippines and other islands of lesser importance.”
After a stop at Cayey over night they pushed westward to Aibonito, a distance of ten miles further. A gentle breeze was blowing into the valley from the mountains, making the ride more delightful than ever, and they visited several plantations in that vicinity.
“This is the best of the weather to be met with in Porto Rico,” observed the professor, as they moved along at a walk, to take in the scenery around them. “For a sick man nothing is better, unless, of course, he needs the bracing air of a high altitude. I think in years to come folks will come here for their health just as they now go to Jamaica and the Bermudas.”
At Aibonito the accommodations were very poor, and late as it was they decided to push on to Coamo, on the river by that name. This was a distance of seven or eight miles, and Hockley growled at having to ride so much further. But nobody paid attention to him.
“He is getting to be a regular sore-head,” whispered Frank to Mark. “If he keeps on I guess the professor will have to take him in hand.”
“He hasn’t gotten over that trick on shipboard,” replied Mark. “And he has received money. That always puffs him up.”