Nor were there any
romping children. There were, to be sure, vast numbers of
undersized figures in the square, but one needed to look twice to
realize that they were not pygmies or wizened little old folks. It
was not strange that Jacket had compared them to gourds with legs,
for all were naked, and most of them had bodies swollen into the
likeness of pods or calabashes. They looked peculiarly grotesque
with their spidery legs and thin faces.
O'Reilly passed a damp hand across his eyes. "God!" he breathed.
"She--she's one of these!"
He had not penetrated even thus far into the city without
receiving a hint of what conditions must be, for in the outlying
streets he had seen sights and smelled odors that had sickened
him; but now that he was face to face with the worst, now that he
breathed the very breath of misery, he could scarcely credit what
he saw. A stench, indescribably nauseating, assailed him and
Jacket as they mingled with the crowd, for as yet their nostrils
were unused to poverty and filth. It was the rancid odor that
arises from unwashed, unhealthy bodies, and it testified
eloquently to the living-conditions of the prisoners. Hollow eyes
and hopeless faces followed the two new-comers as they picked
their way slowly along.
The reconcentrados overran Matanzas in an unclean swarm; streets
and plazas were congested with them, for no attempt was made to
confine them to their quarters.
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