CHAPTER VII—THE HAVANA RACE COURSEAs the yacht danced on its way to Havana, the voyagers began to take a renewed interest in the cruise. At first the departure of four of the party caused a dignified silence, particularly as Elizabeth Dalken’s going had been brought about by her recent disgrace and her father’s intense displeasure. It created rather an uncomfortable feeling when the guests all went on deck that noon.John Baxter and his chum decided that this atmosphere must be dispelled immediately, hence they began their self-appointed task and soon had every one merry and eager to forget the unpleasantness of the previous night’s experience.Havana proved to be a great fund of excitement and fun for the young members in the party; John Baxter had spent several weeks in that hospitable city and knew just where to go and what to see, hence the day was given to every kind of sightseeing. That evening Jack returned his party to the yacht, and proposed another visit to the city on the morrow. Mr. Dalken listened.“They’re going to have one of their famous horse races at the big course to-morrow, Dalky, and I told your guests that it would be well worth seeing. Even if they do not bet on the horses, they will enjoy seeing the stunts the natives do in order to get in first. Let’s tie up to this wharf until to-morrow night, instead of going on our way to-night.”As the vote showed the majority were inclined to stop over for the races, the Captain was notified that the yacht would not resume her trip until the next evening.That night, after dinner had been enjoyed on deck, Mr. Dalken proposed a stroll through the “White Light Way” of Havana. This was received with acclaim and in another moment the ladies were gone for their hats and light evening wraps. Soon all were walking up the street leading from the pier, and eagerly discussing the change in the looks of the city by night.Half the people they met were visitors from the States, and most of those were from New York, or the large cities of the Atlantic coast states. Everywhere on bill-boards, on walls of buildings, and up high on the roofs of houses, the advertising of the morrow’s horse racing was posted. Now and then the men in the party were accosted and invited to book their wagers for the races. But Mr. Dalkin shook his head and advised John and Ray to refuse all offers to double and triple their gains by booking that night.After visiting many interesting places, the yacht-party entered a famous cafe for supper. Dancing in all of its wildest and most sensuous forms was demonstrated by Spanish beauties with little idea of propriety; the very abandon of their poses and the flashing glances they sent the American men in the visiting parties proved how faint were the ties that held them to respectability.“Shall we try a dance?” asked Jack Baxter of Polly. She glanced at Mrs. Courtney with a questioning expression.“Better not, Jack. These dancing girls and their Spanish cavaliers are only too willing to pick an acquaintance with any one who appears to have money. Dancing here might prepare the way for familiarity, for you actually descend to their plane in taking the floor while they are on it,” advised Mrs. Courtney.“That sounds a little far-fetched, Lady Fair, but I will abide by your commands,” laughed Jack, though he was keen to get out on the superb floor and dance to the inspiring music.Not five minutes later Mrs. Courtney had her quiet little revenge on Jack for his light laugh at her advice.Ray and Eleanor had not waited to hear Mrs. Courtney’s hint about dancing, and had enjoyed the waltz to the utmost till the orchestra concluded the piece. An encore loudly continued induced the musicians to resume the waltz. But a handsome Spaniard approached Eleanor who was standing with Ray at one end of the hall, and bowing politely offered his arm to finish the dance with her.Eleanor flushed confusedly and Ray haughtily stared at the daring young man, then turned on his heel and tried to escort Eleanor to her party which was seated at one of the balcony tables. Polly, Jack, and Mrs. Courtney were watching the episode, and Polly murmured: “Glad I wasn’t in Noll’s shoes! I’d have spoken my mind to the fellow.”No sooner had Eleanor found her friends than Mrs. Courtney got up and said: “Are we ready to return to the White Crest?”And those who had witnessed the incident of Eleanor’s experience with the strange Cuban man instantly followed Mrs. Courtney’s lead.The next day proved to be one of almost unbearable tropical heat. The tourists found it necessary to drive to the race-course in rickety old carriages, because Jack had forgotten to engage automobiles for his party and other American sportsmen had anticipated the demand and had commandeered every form of auto to be found.Mid merry jests and amused calls to each other, the girls managed to finally dispose themselves in the worn-cushioned, shaky seats of the century old victorias, and at last Jack decided they were ready to start.As these vehicles carry but few passengers at a time, it was necessary for so large a party to have four carriages, one after the other, as in a parade. The dark drivers grinned and displayed glistening white teeth at the wind-fall which would come their way that day, in driving these New Yorkers to the races.The Dalken party was rattled along under long avenues of bamboo trees; past crowds of native holiday makers dressed in all their gala finery, who waved and shouted joyously at every passing vehicle; through banana plantations where the road led over slight knolls, or down through woods to ford a stream where the wheels of the laden carriages threatened to sink to the hubs in sand; then up again and over a dusty road where the heavy hoofs of the lazy horses caused choking clouds of dust to settle upon the passengers crowded so uncomfortably in the small equipages.Finally the leading carriage in which sat Jack and Polly, with Mrs. Courtney as chaperone, reached a fenced in area where a number of uniformed guards tried to keep peepers from securing their view of the races for nothing. The darky driver knew exactly where to halt, and then he held out his hand for his fee.“You wait here where we can find you after the races,” said Jack, without a move to take any money from his pocket.“Ah, no! You get drive here, me get money for it,” retorted the driver.“But I hired you for the entire afternoon! You have only fulfilled part of the contract. When you deliver us at the wharf I pay in full,” explained Jack.Meanwhile Mr. Dalken had been having the same experience, but he paid the fee without stopping to consider the reason for the untimely demand. Finally, Jack’s driver capitulated and resigned himself to the inevitable, and his three passengers hurriedly joined the rest of their party.Jack came up just as Mr. Dalken counted out the last bill.“Good gracious, Dalky! Don’t tell me you paid him!” called Jack, impatiently.“The fellow was ready to call one of those ridiculous policemen over and arrest me,” explained Mr. Dalken.“He’d have done nothing of the sort! Now you will have to walk back or crowd in with us. That rascal will hang about here until after the races end, then pick up the highest bidder for his rickety old chaise back to the city. If he had been made to wait for his fee he would have been too glad to take you back as agreed upon.”“Never mind, Dalky, you shall sit upon my knee!” laughed Eleanor, teasingly.“You may regret this kindly offer, Nolla, when the long dusty trip begins,” retorted Mr. Dalken.But further argument on the situation was interrupted by a vendor of cocoanut juice. Closely following this peddler came a bookmaker who had been forbidden an entrance to the course. He was sent the way of the vendor of drinks; and then came a gayly garbed black who invited the party to win great stakes at a new game—but it was merely a decoy of the three-card monte gamble.Accompanied on both sides by barkers for refreshments, by touts, and by every sort of vendor of anything salable, the Dalken party finally found it possible to reach the entrance gate. Soon after passing through here, the troublesome peddlers were left behind, but a new form of buzzard came to annoy. These were the professional bookmakers and licensed gamblers who hoped to turn a dishonest dollar their way.In threading a trail to the Grand Stand, Jack led his party past family groups that sat under the trees and picnicked gayly until the gong should call all to the roped-off line that marked the course. The Grand Stand, painted white and decked in many-hued flags of friendly nations, was reached after many side-steppings and turns. Here the girls found army officers, professional men from Havana, and a tableau of fashionably dressed women with fans and parasols galore.As the horses were paraded past the Grand Stand, and their gayly decked black jockeys acknowledged the waving hands and applause of the ladies to their favorites in the race, Polly turned to Eleanor and said: “Dear me, I wish I could bet!”“You can,” returned Eleanor. “Let’s call Jack and tell him.”Jack heard and grinned. “Which is your favorite, Poll?”“See this one on the programme—his name is Will o’ the Wisp. Such a pretty name!”“Hoh, but he is absolutely no good!” declared Jack. “He’s only entered because they need filling the list on that race. No one will bet on him. The odds are ridiculous.”“I don’t care what they say, I’m going to bet five dollars on him,” asserted Polly.“But, dear girl, have you seen the scrawny beast! Look out there and see him shambling along after all the others,” argued Jack.Polly looked. Yes, she admitted that he was a sorry-looking steed for a race, but still she insisted upon her choice. A man was found who laughed scornfully as he took her bet—Polly would lose her five without a doubt. But she shook her head and said knowingly:“No, you will be the one to lose thirty-five dollars, I’m sure!” With a sympathetic laugh the man went his way.Eleanor’s wager was almost as bad, because she chose her favorite on account of appearances. The horse was beautiful, to be sure, but he had no record and consequently no bidding in his favor.False starts were repeatedly made, and the impatient jockeys had to come back and begin again. Finally the judge really dropped the flag and they were off!Then were heard excited calls, shrill cries from anxious watchers, and, as the horses circled the course, the tense urgings of men who had staked all on a favorite, became more thrilling until the home lap came in view. Then Jack’s party were treated to a real Havana picture of a race.The jockeys in purple and gold, green and red, pink and violet, and other combinations of colors, sat humped over their mounts and urged them to the utmost. Every jockey, as he neared the Grand Stand, shouted excitedly and switched his horse into greater effort. But all eyes seemed glued to a miracle!Will o’ the Wisp, pitied and ridiculed at the start of the races, carrying a faded-looking jockey who clung with his knees to the sides of his horse but used no whip, had crept up to his leaders before half the course had been covered. Gradually but surely he went on creeping up until he came beside the last horse in the string. But he did not stop there. He crept on until he had passed that horse and then left him at the very tail of the line. One by one he came nose to nose with and then passed all contestants in the race until he reached the leader of them all. Just as easily as he had crept up and passed the others, so he came on and passed the leader, and finally let himself out on the home run.The mobs were breathless. Not a hurrah or cry of encouragement sounded while Will O’ the Wisp nosed ahead of the favorite in the lead, but when he loped out ahead of them all and stretched his neck to widen the distance between the favorite and himself, the excited crowds gave vent to one long shrill yell of delight! That was a race worth seeing, no matter how many dollars were lost on the books!Polly seemed to be one of a very few who had wagered anything on Will o’ the Wisp, but her friends declared she must understand horseflesh better than they to have so quickly picked the winner.The bookmaker who had felt sorry for the misguided girl, now came over to pay his loss, but he wore a far different expression than one he had expected to wear. Polly accepted her winnings with a serious manner, but once the bookmaker was out of hearing, she said, “I really cannot keep this money because I think it is wrong to gamble on horses that way, so I will donate it to the Havana Hospital when we get back to town.”As Jack had feared, when they came out of the Grand Stand and emerged from the race-course, the jehu whom Mr. Dalken had paid off had found an alluring fare to take home, and the three who had come out in that vehicle found it necessary to accept the hospitality of their friends and crowded into the already crowded surreys. However it made the ride to the yacht all the merrier, and once the pier was reached the drivers found it feasible to collect heavy toll for extra passengers they had had to carry.The tax was paid, but Jack said angrily: “I never did see such grafters as they have in Havana. One can’t lift an eye-lash without being made to pay for it!”That evening the Captain continued his course along the coast of Cuba. The wonderful air, laden with sweet perfumes of the tropical plants that caused the indented coastline to look like a fringed garment upon the smooth silvery waters, made the tourists feel languid and only too willing to loll upon deck and watch the swiftly passing panorama of the island.The Captain planned to pass between Cuba and Hayti, to reach the harbor at Kingston, Jamaica, the next stopping place for the travelers. But the younger members in the party clamored for a sight of Port au Prince and its motley citizens.“You’ll find that Island anything but a desirable place to visit,” objected Mr. Fabian, when he heard the plans.“So Tom Latimer said, but we want to see the worshippers of the sacred serpents,” said Eleanor.“You won’t see anything of the sort,” remonstrated Mr. Dalken. “They keep all such performances secret from civilized people. About the only thing you will find, however, is a city rich in vice and unhealthy with filth. You’ll see blacks and half-breeds mince along the streets dressed in the very latest Parisian fashions, with the manners of western outlaws, and the morals of a dive dweller.”“In other words, my girls, a place we cannot allow you to visit,” was Mrs. Courtney’s conclusive remark. So that settled all hope of visiting Hayti.Long before the yacht reached Hayti, however, the younger members of the party were anxious to reach Kingston, where Jack described such alluring attractions. Little coaxing was necessary to persuade Mr. Dalken to anchor at Kingston for a few days in order to give the tourists ample time to visit all the places worth seeing.Then, at last, the White Crest passed within a stone’s throw of Port-au-Prince, and leaving the Island of Hayti behind, made a straight course for Jamaica.Skirting along the low-lying, palm-treed shores of this beautiful isle, the watching group on the yacht found it rather warm pastime on deck with the tropical sun burning blisters on the hand-rails of the boat, and reflecting in all its power the burning rays as they struck the smooth, mirror-like sea.Suddenly, without warning of any kind, a darkness fell and the sun disappeared. Down came the rain in a regular deluge that sent everyone pell mell into the saloon for shelter. The waterfall continued for about ten minutes, then abated and suddenly, once more, the sun shone forth as hot as ever.Exercise was intolerable in this climate, and the guests on board the White Crest found the only agreeable pastime to be a comfortable chair on deck where one could watch the flying fish, the pretty little nautilus gliding past, and the dolphin play and jump in the transparent depths of the sea. At times a hungry shark would follow the boat, looking for the garbage thrown out by the cook.That night there was the last of the full moon, but what a different moon from that as seen in New York! A few hours after sighting the lighthouse on Morant Point, the watchers saw the first peaks of the Blue Mountains. The yacht sped past sugar plantations, low-roofed, silvery-white houses, glistening roads—glistening in the moonbeams—and wonderful groves of cocoanut or banana palms whose tall fronds waved a welcome to the girls.Passing along six miles of the coral ridge one does not realize how near is Kingston, hidden by the strip of reef, until, quite suddenly, you discover the town. It is entirely hemmed in by its mountains, and on only one side approached by the beautiful lagoon through the waters of which the White Crest now danced to reach the mystical-looking place situated about six miles away, at the end of the harbor.That night the yacht made fast to a wooden quay where black-faced, white-teethed men awaited the coming of the rich quarry. Not often did they have such a fine craft come to Kingston, and each and every son of the soil planned how to fleece the members of the party. But all were doomed to disappointment for that night, as the time being almost midnight, Mr. Dalken said no one would go ashore, until the morning.
As the yacht danced on its way to Havana, the voyagers began to take a renewed interest in the cruise. At first the departure of four of the party caused a dignified silence, particularly as Elizabeth Dalken’s going had been brought about by her recent disgrace and her father’s intense displeasure. It created rather an uncomfortable feeling when the guests all went on deck that noon.
John Baxter and his chum decided that this atmosphere must be dispelled immediately, hence they began their self-appointed task and soon had every one merry and eager to forget the unpleasantness of the previous night’s experience.
Havana proved to be a great fund of excitement and fun for the young members in the party; John Baxter had spent several weeks in that hospitable city and knew just where to go and what to see, hence the day was given to every kind of sightseeing. That evening Jack returned his party to the yacht, and proposed another visit to the city on the morrow. Mr. Dalken listened.
“They’re going to have one of their famous horse races at the big course to-morrow, Dalky, and I told your guests that it would be well worth seeing. Even if they do not bet on the horses, they will enjoy seeing the stunts the natives do in order to get in first. Let’s tie up to this wharf until to-morrow night, instead of going on our way to-night.”
As the vote showed the majority were inclined to stop over for the races, the Captain was notified that the yacht would not resume her trip until the next evening.
That night, after dinner had been enjoyed on deck, Mr. Dalken proposed a stroll through the “White Light Way” of Havana. This was received with acclaim and in another moment the ladies were gone for their hats and light evening wraps. Soon all were walking up the street leading from the pier, and eagerly discussing the change in the looks of the city by night.
Half the people they met were visitors from the States, and most of those were from New York, or the large cities of the Atlantic coast states. Everywhere on bill-boards, on walls of buildings, and up high on the roofs of houses, the advertising of the morrow’s horse racing was posted. Now and then the men in the party were accosted and invited to book their wagers for the races. But Mr. Dalkin shook his head and advised John and Ray to refuse all offers to double and triple their gains by booking that night.
After visiting many interesting places, the yacht-party entered a famous cafe for supper. Dancing in all of its wildest and most sensuous forms was demonstrated by Spanish beauties with little idea of propriety; the very abandon of their poses and the flashing glances they sent the American men in the visiting parties proved how faint were the ties that held them to respectability.
“Shall we try a dance?” asked Jack Baxter of Polly. She glanced at Mrs. Courtney with a questioning expression.
“Better not, Jack. These dancing girls and their Spanish cavaliers are only too willing to pick an acquaintance with any one who appears to have money. Dancing here might prepare the way for familiarity, for you actually descend to their plane in taking the floor while they are on it,” advised Mrs. Courtney.
“That sounds a little far-fetched, Lady Fair, but I will abide by your commands,” laughed Jack, though he was keen to get out on the superb floor and dance to the inspiring music.
Not five minutes later Mrs. Courtney had her quiet little revenge on Jack for his light laugh at her advice.
Ray and Eleanor had not waited to hear Mrs. Courtney’s hint about dancing, and had enjoyed the waltz to the utmost till the orchestra concluded the piece. An encore loudly continued induced the musicians to resume the waltz. But a handsome Spaniard approached Eleanor who was standing with Ray at one end of the hall, and bowing politely offered his arm to finish the dance with her.
Eleanor flushed confusedly and Ray haughtily stared at the daring young man, then turned on his heel and tried to escort Eleanor to her party which was seated at one of the balcony tables. Polly, Jack, and Mrs. Courtney were watching the episode, and Polly murmured: “Glad I wasn’t in Noll’s shoes! I’d have spoken my mind to the fellow.”
No sooner had Eleanor found her friends than Mrs. Courtney got up and said: “Are we ready to return to the White Crest?”
And those who had witnessed the incident of Eleanor’s experience with the strange Cuban man instantly followed Mrs. Courtney’s lead.
The next day proved to be one of almost unbearable tropical heat. The tourists found it necessary to drive to the race-course in rickety old carriages, because Jack had forgotten to engage automobiles for his party and other American sportsmen had anticipated the demand and had commandeered every form of auto to be found.
Mid merry jests and amused calls to each other, the girls managed to finally dispose themselves in the worn-cushioned, shaky seats of the century old victorias, and at last Jack decided they were ready to start.
As these vehicles carry but few passengers at a time, it was necessary for so large a party to have four carriages, one after the other, as in a parade. The dark drivers grinned and displayed glistening white teeth at the wind-fall which would come their way that day, in driving these New Yorkers to the races.
The Dalken party was rattled along under long avenues of bamboo trees; past crowds of native holiday makers dressed in all their gala finery, who waved and shouted joyously at every passing vehicle; through banana plantations where the road led over slight knolls, or down through woods to ford a stream where the wheels of the laden carriages threatened to sink to the hubs in sand; then up again and over a dusty road where the heavy hoofs of the lazy horses caused choking clouds of dust to settle upon the passengers crowded so uncomfortably in the small equipages.
Finally the leading carriage in which sat Jack and Polly, with Mrs. Courtney as chaperone, reached a fenced in area where a number of uniformed guards tried to keep peepers from securing their view of the races for nothing. The darky driver knew exactly where to halt, and then he held out his hand for his fee.
“You wait here where we can find you after the races,” said Jack, without a move to take any money from his pocket.
“Ah, no! You get drive here, me get money for it,” retorted the driver.
“But I hired you for the entire afternoon! You have only fulfilled part of the contract. When you deliver us at the wharf I pay in full,” explained Jack.
Meanwhile Mr. Dalken had been having the same experience, but he paid the fee without stopping to consider the reason for the untimely demand. Finally, Jack’s driver capitulated and resigned himself to the inevitable, and his three passengers hurriedly joined the rest of their party.
Jack came up just as Mr. Dalken counted out the last bill.
“Good gracious, Dalky! Don’t tell me you paid him!” called Jack, impatiently.
“The fellow was ready to call one of those ridiculous policemen over and arrest me,” explained Mr. Dalken.
“He’d have done nothing of the sort! Now you will have to walk back or crowd in with us. That rascal will hang about here until after the races end, then pick up the highest bidder for his rickety old chaise back to the city. If he had been made to wait for his fee he would have been too glad to take you back as agreed upon.”
“Never mind, Dalky, you shall sit upon my knee!” laughed Eleanor, teasingly.
“You may regret this kindly offer, Nolla, when the long dusty trip begins,” retorted Mr. Dalken.
But further argument on the situation was interrupted by a vendor of cocoanut juice. Closely following this peddler came a bookmaker who had been forbidden an entrance to the course. He was sent the way of the vendor of drinks; and then came a gayly garbed black who invited the party to win great stakes at a new game—but it was merely a decoy of the three-card monte gamble.
Accompanied on both sides by barkers for refreshments, by touts, and by every sort of vendor of anything salable, the Dalken party finally found it possible to reach the entrance gate. Soon after passing through here, the troublesome peddlers were left behind, but a new form of buzzard came to annoy. These were the professional bookmakers and licensed gamblers who hoped to turn a dishonest dollar their way.
In threading a trail to the Grand Stand, Jack led his party past family groups that sat under the trees and picnicked gayly until the gong should call all to the roped-off line that marked the course. The Grand Stand, painted white and decked in many-hued flags of friendly nations, was reached after many side-steppings and turns. Here the girls found army officers, professional men from Havana, and a tableau of fashionably dressed women with fans and parasols galore.
As the horses were paraded past the Grand Stand, and their gayly decked black jockeys acknowledged the waving hands and applause of the ladies to their favorites in the race, Polly turned to Eleanor and said: “Dear me, I wish I could bet!”
“You can,” returned Eleanor. “Let’s call Jack and tell him.”
Jack heard and grinned. “Which is your favorite, Poll?”
“See this one on the programme—his name is Will o’ the Wisp. Such a pretty name!”
“Hoh, but he is absolutely no good!” declared Jack. “He’s only entered because they need filling the list on that race. No one will bet on him. The odds are ridiculous.”
“I don’t care what they say, I’m going to bet five dollars on him,” asserted Polly.
“But, dear girl, have you seen the scrawny beast! Look out there and see him shambling along after all the others,” argued Jack.
Polly looked. Yes, she admitted that he was a sorry-looking steed for a race, but still she insisted upon her choice. A man was found who laughed scornfully as he took her bet—Polly would lose her five without a doubt. But she shook her head and said knowingly:
“No, you will be the one to lose thirty-five dollars, I’m sure!” With a sympathetic laugh the man went his way.
Eleanor’s wager was almost as bad, because she chose her favorite on account of appearances. The horse was beautiful, to be sure, but he had no record and consequently no bidding in his favor.
False starts were repeatedly made, and the impatient jockeys had to come back and begin again. Finally the judge really dropped the flag and they were off!
Then were heard excited calls, shrill cries from anxious watchers, and, as the horses circled the course, the tense urgings of men who had staked all on a favorite, became more thrilling until the home lap came in view. Then Jack’s party were treated to a real Havana picture of a race.
The jockeys in purple and gold, green and red, pink and violet, and other combinations of colors, sat humped over their mounts and urged them to the utmost. Every jockey, as he neared the Grand Stand, shouted excitedly and switched his horse into greater effort. But all eyes seemed glued to a miracle!
Will o’ the Wisp, pitied and ridiculed at the start of the races, carrying a faded-looking jockey who clung with his knees to the sides of his horse but used no whip, had crept up to his leaders before half the course had been covered. Gradually but surely he went on creeping up until he came beside the last horse in the string. But he did not stop there. He crept on until he had passed that horse and then left him at the very tail of the line. One by one he came nose to nose with and then passed all contestants in the race until he reached the leader of them all. Just as easily as he had crept up and passed the others, so he came on and passed the leader, and finally let himself out on the home run.
The mobs were breathless. Not a hurrah or cry of encouragement sounded while Will O’ the Wisp nosed ahead of the favorite in the lead, but when he loped out ahead of them all and stretched his neck to widen the distance between the favorite and himself, the excited crowds gave vent to one long shrill yell of delight! That was a race worth seeing, no matter how many dollars were lost on the books!
Polly seemed to be one of a very few who had wagered anything on Will o’ the Wisp, but her friends declared she must understand horseflesh better than they to have so quickly picked the winner.
The bookmaker who had felt sorry for the misguided girl, now came over to pay his loss, but he wore a far different expression than one he had expected to wear. Polly accepted her winnings with a serious manner, but once the bookmaker was out of hearing, she said, “I really cannot keep this money because I think it is wrong to gamble on horses that way, so I will donate it to the Havana Hospital when we get back to town.”
As Jack had feared, when they came out of the Grand Stand and emerged from the race-course, the jehu whom Mr. Dalken had paid off had found an alluring fare to take home, and the three who had come out in that vehicle found it necessary to accept the hospitality of their friends and crowded into the already crowded surreys. However it made the ride to the yacht all the merrier, and once the pier was reached the drivers found it feasible to collect heavy toll for extra passengers they had had to carry.
The tax was paid, but Jack said angrily: “I never did see such grafters as they have in Havana. One can’t lift an eye-lash without being made to pay for it!”
That evening the Captain continued his course along the coast of Cuba. The wonderful air, laden with sweet perfumes of the tropical plants that caused the indented coastline to look like a fringed garment upon the smooth silvery waters, made the tourists feel languid and only too willing to loll upon deck and watch the swiftly passing panorama of the island.
The Captain planned to pass between Cuba and Hayti, to reach the harbor at Kingston, Jamaica, the next stopping place for the travelers. But the younger members in the party clamored for a sight of Port au Prince and its motley citizens.
“You’ll find that Island anything but a desirable place to visit,” objected Mr. Fabian, when he heard the plans.
“So Tom Latimer said, but we want to see the worshippers of the sacred serpents,” said Eleanor.
“You won’t see anything of the sort,” remonstrated Mr. Dalken. “They keep all such performances secret from civilized people. About the only thing you will find, however, is a city rich in vice and unhealthy with filth. You’ll see blacks and half-breeds mince along the streets dressed in the very latest Parisian fashions, with the manners of western outlaws, and the morals of a dive dweller.”
“In other words, my girls, a place we cannot allow you to visit,” was Mrs. Courtney’s conclusive remark. So that settled all hope of visiting Hayti.
Long before the yacht reached Hayti, however, the younger members of the party were anxious to reach Kingston, where Jack described such alluring attractions. Little coaxing was necessary to persuade Mr. Dalken to anchor at Kingston for a few days in order to give the tourists ample time to visit all the places worth seeing.
Then, at last, the White Crest passed within a stone’s throw of Port-au-Prince, and leaving the Island of Hayti behind, made a straight course for Jamaica.
Skirting along the low-lying, palm-treed shores of this beautiful isle, the watching group on the yacht found it rather warm pastime on deck with the tropical sun burning blisters on the hand-rails of the boat, and reflecting in all its power the burning rays as they struck the smooth, mirror-like sea.
Suddenly, without warning of any kind, a darkness fell and the sun disappeared. Down came the rain in a regular deluge that sent everyone pell mell into the saloon for shelter. The waterfall continued for about ten minutes, then abated and suddenly, once more, the sun shone forth as hot as ever.
Exercise was intolerable in this climate, and the guests on board the White Crest found the only agreeable pastime to be a comfortable chair on deck where one could watch the flying fish, the pretty little nautilus gliding past, and the dolphin play and jump in the transparent depths of the sea. At times a hungry shark would follow the boat, looking for the garbage thrown out by the cook.
That night there was the last of the full moon, but what a different moon from that as seen in New York! A few hours after sighting the lighthouse on Morant Point, the watchers saw the first peaks of the Blue Mountains. The yacht sped past sugar plantations, low-roofed, silvery-white houses, glistening roads—glistening in the moonbeams—and wonderful groves of cocoanut or banana palms whose tall fronds waved a welcome to the girls.
Passing along six miles of the coral ridge one does not realize how near is Kingston, hidden by the strip of reef, until, quite suddenly, you discover the town. It is entirely hemmed in by its mountains, and on only one side approached by the beautiful lagoon through the waters of which the White Crest now danced to reach the mystical-looking place situated about six miles away, at the end of the harbor.
That night the yacht made fast to a wooden quay where black-faced, white-teethed men awaited the coming of the rich quarry. Not often did they have such a fine craft come to Kingston, and each and every son of the soil planned how to fleece the members of the party. But all were doomed to disappointment for that night, as the time being almost midnight, Mr. Dalken said no one would go ashore, until the morning.