These country people
were dumb and terrified at the misfortunes which had overtaken
them; they wandered the streets in aimless bewilderment, fearful
of what blow might next befall. They were not used to begging, and
therefore they did not often implore alms; but all day long they
asked for work, for bread, that their little ones might live.
Work, however, was even scarcer than food, and the time soon came
when they crouched upon curbs and door-steps, hopeless, beaten,
silently reproachful of those more fortunate than they. Their eyes
grew big and hollow; their outstretched hands grew gaunt and
skinny. The sound of weeping women and fretting babies became a
common thing to hear.
In the suburbs, just within the ring of guardian forts, an "area
of cultivation" was set aside, and here the prisoners put up huts
of yagua--comfortless bark shelters, which were well enough,
perhaps, in fair weather, but sadly ineffective against wind and
rain. Here, housed with hunger and crowded together in
indescribable squalor, they dwelt, seeking comfort in their common
wretchedness. Since they had no farm implements, no seeds, no
means whatever of cultivating this ground apportioned to their
use, it remained untilled while they grew hungrier day by day.
Outside the lines there were yams, potatoes, edible roots and
such, for the Spaniards' work of desolation had not been quite
complete, and no hand can rob the Cuban soil of all its riches;
but the pacificos were not allowed to leave the city.
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