Читать книгу Scenes in the Hawaiian Islands and California - Anderson Mary Evarts - Страница 2

AS soon as the clock struck four, Carrie, Alice, Willie, and Harry reminded me of my promise, and having all finished their work, were ready for story Number Two.

"Aunty," said Carrie, "Alice and I have finished our squares of patchwork, and Willie and Harry have weeded that flower-bed for grandpa; so you see we have done our part of the bargain, and now we have come for your part."

I'm all ready for my part, said I.

Before we arrived at Aspinwall, old travelers told us that if we got there before ten at night, we should have to leave the steamer and go to the hotels. We were, therefore, selfishly relieved to find that all the hotels had been burned to the ground about Christmas time. So we stayed on board the steamer that night, and how glad we were to think it was our last night there. We heard that the steamer upon which we were to embark on the other side was a very large one, and about five in the morning, after a comfortless breakfast of poor coffee without milk, and hard bread, we turned our back on the Ocean Queen, without regret. A stout, half-naked negro shouldered our baggage, and we were actually treading the soil of the Isthmus of Darien.

"Did he carry your trunks, aunty?" said Willie.

Oh, no, dear, we had our trunks all weighed the day before. We were only allowed fifty pounds of baggage apiece, and for all over that we had to pay ten cents for every pound. They gave grandpa checks for the trunks; so the man only took our bags and deck chairs. He took what we ourselves couldn't carry.

On the beach near us, was the stranded wreck of the British ship Avon, a large, noble vessel, lying on her side. In a gale some time ago, she dragged her anchors, I believe, and was blown by the wind far up on the sand.

It was quite a picturesque scene at the cars, in the early morning light. We passed through a small grove of cocoa-nuts. I really was disappointed in them; but these were dwarf-trees, and not good samples. The passengers were standing in groups with their bags at their feet, or on the head of some native near by. The cars were before us, and native women passed about with their waiters of fruit and cakes. They were dressed in white or light-colored muslin or calico skirts, flounced, torn, and dirty; a white chemise, with a ruffle round the neck trimmed with lace, and a bandanna handkerchief tied round the head completed their toilet. In a picture it would look very well; as it was, one dreaded too close a contact, they were so dirty. Some of their attitudes were very graceful. The men had on shirts and pantaloons, the former generally worn as a sack. After much scrambling, we were seated in the cars, hot and disgusted.

"Hot, aunty, and in January too?" said Carrie.

If you look on your map, you will find that Aspinwall is not very far from the equator. They have no winter there, and the sun is very powerful.

Soon after we started, all other feelings were lost in intense delight at the luxuriant tropical verdure about us. Aspinwall is on a coral island close to the shore, and is low and unhealthy. The name of the island is Manzanilla. The natives call the town Colon, from Columbus or Christoval Colon, as his name is in Spanish. The railroad was five years in being built, under almost unheard-of difficulties; and any person going over it might learn to appreciate some of them, after seeing the rich, tangled, luxuriant vegetation in the low, wet grounds. How I longed to know the names of the beautiful flowers fringing the road; but no one could tell me. First we passed through a swamp of purple and white azaleas; then one of snowy callas; then near a bank hidden from view by heavy morning-glory vines in bloom, still dripping with dew. We saw a great many specimens of what I was told was the "long palm;" it looked to me like a kind of brake or fern, with drooping branches twenty feet in length. There were trees with hardly a leaf; but each branch and twig crowned with orange-yellow blossoms. Again we would see a tree covered with feathery, purple flowers. Along some parts of the way, was a profusion of "Indian shot," so called, I suppose, because the seeds are black, hard, and round, looking like large shot. Here and there drooped a vine with brilliant scarlet blossoms. Once in a while we would see the deep green of the orange-tree, or the lighter foliage of the lemon, and finally a banana-tree, with its bunch of fruit, gladdened my eyes. There were many trees with parasitic plants growing on them, looking as if ropes were hanging from them. It is said that if one of these groves of ferns on the Isthmus is cut down, in three months the vegetation has grown so rapidly as to look as if no human hand had ever interfered with them. One wanted several pairs of eyes to take in all the beauty of the scene.

There were various way-stations upon the railroad, having neat white houses, with a piazza upon both stories. Before and around some of them are pretty gardens, with bright flowers, conspicuous among them being our fragrant roses, such as rarely bloom with us except in green-houses. We passed many native huts grouped in small villages, with their inhabitants sitting in the doorway or lounging about the premises, the children running round half naked or entirely so. Most of these people are freed Jamaica slaves. They seemed to be a happy but indolent race. Fruits grow about them with such prodigality as to require but little exertion to obtain the necessities of life. Their huts are made of bamboo rods, thatched with palm-leaves.

But there is the tea-bell.