Some of the incoming canoes were laden with coconuts, others with bananas and plantains from the little fincas along the coast, and yet others with fish. The last we noted more carefully, as there is no fish-market in Livingston, and the fish are always interesting to a stranger; for odd and various as may be the fruits of a new clime, the produce of the sea generally surpasses that of the land in curious forms. There were some of the oddest of the Central American waters; and the man who first ate them must have been very brave or very hungry. One of them had flesh resembling beef in color, and good and substantial when cooked.
Paths about the town are narrow and grass-grown, and the hooked seeds of a Desmodium cling to the clothes, and the thorns of the sensitive-plant (Mimosa pudicans) scratch the bare feet of the passer; but worse than all these, in the grass are tiny insects called coloradía, which bite the ankles and other exposed parts, causing red spots and an intolerable itching,—easily allayed, however, by salt-water or bay-rum applications. Mosquitoes were not troublesome, and we used no nettings; nor did we see any house-flies.
A bath in the Rio Dulce was tempered by the dread of sharks; and refreshing as the sweet water was, there was a self-congratulatory feeling on getting safely back to the huge square-hewn mahogany logs that served for dressing-room.
To the outward world Livingston is principally interesting as the free port of Guatemala,—the outlet of the coffee of Alta Verapaz and the fruits of the Atlantic coast-region. In its early history it was a settlement of Caribs,—those splendid negroes who were driven from the islands of the sea, which still bear their name, when the Spaniards enslaved or destroyed their fellow-owners of the land. Its situation at the entrance of the chief waterway to the interior and the capital soon marked it for a Spanish post; but the buccaneers were too powerful, and before their advance the port of entry was moved far up the Rio Dulce to Izabal, on the lake of that name,—the fort of San Felipe blocking the way to these lawless enemies. Not only pirates, but the Home Government hastened the decay and disuse of this port, and the banks of the Rio Dulce were of little importance, except to the mahogany-cutters and sarsaparilla-gatherers, for two centuries.
An enlightened Government, in fostering the immense agricultural wealth of Guatemala, turned the attention of foreign capital, first to the rich coffee-lands in the neighborhood of Coban, and later to the even richer fruit-lands of the valleys east of the high table-lands of the interior. The outlet for all the produce was by the Polochic, and the shipping-port was Livingston; so the little village built by the exiled Caribals (cannibals) has been gradually occupied by business men of various nations, until now the population may be nearly two thousand. The shores are high and healthful, and the anchorage within the river is secure. Dredging would easily open a channel, and jetties like those placed in the Mississippi by Captain Eads would doubtless keep the way open; for the current is frequently very strong, but now wastes its strength over a mile of shoal-water. At present all the ocean steamers lie at anchor outside; and consequently the lighterage is an important business.
In the immediate neighborhood of this port, and accessible by water, are lands pre-eminently adapted for sugar or cotton cultivation; although now, owing to the smaller capital required, and speedier returns, bananas and plantains are the chief products. The Government determined to develop these lands,—which have hitherto been left to the solitude of their dense forests and the occasional intrusion of the mahogany-cutter,—and in 1882 declared Livingston a free port, including in its territory a large triangular part of the eastern coast. The public lands were then offered for sale at reasonable rates; and in consequence, several capitalists from the United States have purchased large tracts, and are cultivating soil perhaps the most fertile on the continent.
Climatic changes are insensible here, and it may truly be said that the one season is summer. Never has yellow fever or other dangerous zymotic disease visited Livingston, and the death-rate is about one quarter that of Boston. The rapid increase of its population and commercial importance will make imperative the demand for improved harbor and wharf facilities.
Ten miles to the south of Livingston is the fine harbor of Santo Tomas, where in 1843 a Belgian colony was established; and as this unfortunate attempt has given an ill reputation to all Central America, it is well to state that failure was by no means due to the insalubrity of the climate, but to the want of foresight of the projectors and the abject ignorance of tropical trials on the part of the immigrants. Landed in an unaccustomed climate, in the wet season, without shelter, and inadequately provisioned, they lost heart, health, or life itself.
WEAVING A SERPIENTE.