It
is my opinion that all Americans are crazy."
The party had penetrated to the foot-hills of the Sierra de
Cubitas now, and as they ascended, the scenery changed. Rarely is
the Cuban landscape anything but pleasing. For the most part green
pastures sown with stately palm-trees and laid out as if for a
picnic alternate with low rolling hills, and in but few places are
the altitudes at all impressive. It is a smiling island. It has
been said, too, that everything in it is friendly to man: the
people are amiable, warm-hearted; the very animals and insects are
harmless. Cuban cattle are shy, but trusting; Cuban horses are
patient and affectionate; the serpents have no poison, and
although the spiders and the scorpions grow large and forbidding,
their sting is ineffective. But here in the Cubitas range all was
different. The land was stern and forbidding: canons deep and damp
raised dripping walls to the sky; bridle-paths skirted ledges that
were bold and fearsome, or lost themselves in gloomy jungles as
noisome as Spanish dungeons. Hidden away in these fastnesses, the
rebel Government had established its capital. Here, safe from
surprise, the soldiers of Gomez and Maceo and Garcia rested
between attacks, nursing their wounded and recruiting their
strength for further sallies.
It was a strange seat of government--no nation ever had a
stranger--for the state buildings were huts of bark and leaves,
the army was uniformed in rags.
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