In the Woods.

There are no large animals in the forests of the West Indies to frighten the children, but among the grasses and beautiful plants that grow everywhere about them there are many insects that might do them harm. Scorpions, which belong to the spider family, may give painful bites, and centipedes with their hundred legs, must also be watched for. Then there are mosquitoes without number, and chigos as the children call them, which creep between the tender skins of the white people’s toes and make poisonous sores, but seldom trouble those of the Negroes.

“I must not go far into the woods when I am alone,” think many small boys and girls, for they are afraid they may meet a wild dog which they are quite sure is a most fierce and dangerous animal. But the children have little to fear on this account, for wild dogs are so scarce that few people have ever met them. Long ago in Mexico, in the time of the Aztecs, and in the West Indies before the coming of the white men there, it is said there were such creatures in the forests, but now they are rare indeed.

Sometimes the children meet a strange kind of army when they are walking in the woods or driving along the country roads. This army is composed of huge land crabs who go once a year from their home on the mountain sides to the sea. There are often hundreds in this army, which marches slowly but steadily onward, through patches of woods, across roads, and over fields of tobacco. After the journey is once begun, it is said that the crabs do not rest till the ocean lies before them.

The children of the West Indies spend much time training beautiful parrots caught in the woods not far from their homes; they gather firebugs so brilliant that on summer evenings the tiny insects light up their gardens, making them appear like fairyland; they can listen to the singing-tree that makes a soft cooing noise when the breeze stirs its branches; they can gather limes and lemons, breadfruit and oranges in their own groves.

Among the Sugar-canes.

Many children of the West Indies live on large plantations where tobacco and sugar are raised. As you drive along through the country you will pass broad fields covered with tobacco plants whose glossy leaves spread out in the sunlight. Workmen are constantly busy caring for the plants and watching lest troublesome insects injure the leaves.

Again, you will see before you wide fields of what seems at first to be corn, but as you draw nearer you discover that the stalks are much taller. It is the sugar-cane which grows so high that a man on horseback may hide himself in its midst. A great deal of the West Indian sugar is raised in Cuba where the plantations are so large that they seem like small villages in themselves.

Let us visit the children of a sugar planter. We pass through a wide driveway of beautiful trees and arrive in front of a large, one-story house with wide verandas. Flowering vines trail over the trellises. The door is opened by a smiling Negro maid with a gaily-colored ’kerchief wound around her woolly head. She shows you into the drawing-room where a dark-eyed lady in white is sitting in a lounging chair. It is the mother of your little Cuban friends, whom you have come to visit. She speaks to you in a sweet, low voice and smiles so pleasantly that you feel at home at once.

A moment afterwards the children appear. They are slim and dark-skinned like their mother; perhaps they are bare-footed, or they may have sandals on their feet. They take delight in making you welcome, and in showing you over the plantation. First, they wish you to see their gardens, where roses and lilies, oleanders and jessamines fill the air with sweetness.