Evidences of the war increased as the journey lengthened. The
potreros were lush with grass, but no herds grazed upon them;
villages were deserted and guano huts were falling into decay,
charred fields growing up to weeds and the ruins of vast centrales
showing where the Insurrectos had been at work. This was the sugar
country, the heart of Cuba, whence Spain had long drawn her life
blood, and from the first it had been the policy of the rebel
leaders to destroy the large estates, leaving undamaged only the
holdings of those little farmers whose loyalty to the cause of
freedom was unquestioned.
Food became a problem immediately after the travelers had crossed
the trocha. Such apprehensive families as still lurked in the
woods were liberal enough--Antonio, by the way, knew all of them--
but they had little to give and, in consequence, O'Reilly's party
learned the taste of wild fruits, berries, and palmetto hearts.
Once they managed to kill a small pig, the sole survivor of some
obscure country tragedy, but the rest of the time their meat, when
there was any, consisted of iguanas--those big, repulsive lizards-
-and jutias, the Cuban field-rats.
Neither the lizards nor the rats were quite as bad as they looked
or sounded; the meat of the former was tender and white, while the
latter, although strong, was not unpalatable.
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