It was a lovely moonlight evening; the "Dolphin's" Captain and all his family and passengers were gathered together upon the deck. It had been a day of sight-seeing and wandering from place to place about the islands, and they were weary enough to fully enjoy the rest and quiet now vouchsafed them.

Captain Raymond broke a momentary silence by saying: "I hope, my friends, that you can all feel that you have had a pleasant sojourn in and about these islands?"

"Indeed we have," replied several voices.

"I am glad to hear it," returned the Captain, heartily; "and now the question is, Shall we tarry here longer or go on our southward way to visit other places, where we will escape the rigors of winter in our more northern homes?"

No one spoke for a moment; then Mr. Dinsmore said: "Let the majority decide. I am perfectly satisfied to go on or to stay here, as you, Captain, and they may wish."

"And I echo my husband's sentiments and feelings," remarked Mrs. Rose Dinsmore, pleasantly.

"And you, mother?" asked the Captain, turning to Mrs. Travilla.

"I, too, am entirely willing to go or stay, as others may wish," she replied, in her own sweet voice.

"And you, Evelyn?" asked the Captain, turning to her.

"I feel that it would be delightful either to go or stay, father," she answered, with a smile and a blush.

The others were quite as non-committal, but after some further chat on the subject it was decided that they would leave Bermuda the next morning, and, taking a southerly course, probably make Porto Rico their next halting place.

As usual, Lucilla woke at an early hour. Evidently the vessel was still stationary, and anxious to see it start she rose and made her toilet very quietly, lest she should disturb her still sleeping husband, then left the room and stole noiselessly through the saloon up to the deck, where she found her father overseeing the lifting of the anchor.

"Ah, good-morning, daughter," he said, with a smile, as she reached his side. "You are an early bird as usual," ending his sentence with a clasp of his arm about her waist and a kiss upon her lips.

"Yes, papa," she laughed, "who wouldn't be an early bird to get such a token of love from such a father as mine?"

"And what father wouldn't be ready and glad to bestow it upon such a daughter as mine?" he responded, repeating his loving caress. "You have enjoyed your trip thus far, daughter, have you not?"

"Yes, indeed, papa. We are bound for Porto Rico now, are we not?"

"Yes, I think that will be our first stopping place; though perhaps we may not land at all, but merely sail round it, viewing it from the sea."

"And perhaps you may treat Cuba in the same way?"

"Very possibly. I shall act in regard to both as the majority of my passengers may wish."

The anchor was now up, and the vessel gliding through the water. The Captain and Lucilla paced the deck to and fro, taking a farewell look at the receding islands and talking of the pleasure they had found in visiting them, particularly in exploring the many creeks and bays, with their clear waters so full of beautiful shells and fish, so different from those to be found in their land.

"I shall always look back with pleasure upon this visit to Bermuda, father," Lucilla said, with a grateful smile up into his eyes.

"I am very glad you have enjoyed it, daughter," he replied; "as I think every one of our party has. And I am hoping that our wanderings further to the south may prove not less interesting and enjoyable."

"Yes, sir, I hope so. I shall feel great interest in looking upon Cuba and Porto Rico—particularly the first—because of what our men did and endured there in the late war with Spain. How pleasant it was that the Porto Ricans were so ready and glad to be freed from the domination of Spain and taken into our Union."

Just then Harold joined them, and with him came little Ned. Pleasant good-mornings were exchanged. Then others of their party followed, two or three at a time, till all were on deck enjoying the sweet morning air and the view of the fast-receding islands. Then came the call to breakfast, followed by the morning service of prayer and praise, and after that they returned to the deck.

As usual, the children were soon beside their loved grandmother, Mrs. Elsie Travilla.

"Well, dears, we have had a very good time at Bermuda, haven't we?" she said, smiling lovingly upon them.

"Yes, ma'am," said Elsie. "Do you think we will have as good a time where we are going now?"

"I hope so, my dear. I believe Porto Rico is to be the first land we touch at. Would you like me to tell you something of its beauties and its history?"

"Yes, indeed, grandma," both children answered, in a tone of eager assent, and she began at once.

"The name—Porto Rico—was given it by the Spaniards, and means 'The Gateway of Wealth.' It was discovered by Columbus in 1493. It is about half as large as New Jersey. Through its center is a range of mountains called the Luquillo. The highest peak, Yunque, can be seen from a distance of sixty-eight miles. Porto Rico is a beautiful island. The higher parts of the hills are covered by forests; immense herds of cattle are pastured on the plains. The land is fertile and they raise cotton, corn, rice and almost every kind of tropical fruit."

"Are there any rivers, grandma?" asked Ned.

"Nine small ones," she answered.

"Are there any towns?"

"Oh yes, quite a good many; large ones. Ponce, the capital, has a good many thousands of inhabitants, and some fine buildings. San Juan, too, is quite a large place; it stands on Morro Island, which forms the north side of the harbor and is separated from the mainland by a narrow creek called the Channel of San Antonio. At the entrance to San Juan's harbors is a lighthouse on Morro Point. It is one hundred and seventy-one feet above the sea, and its fixed light is visible for eighteen miles over the waters."

"Oh," cried Ned, "let's watch out for it when we are coming that near."

"It will be very well for you to do so," his grandma said, with a smile; then went on with her account of Porto Rico.

"The island has much to recommend it; the climate is salubrious, and there are no snakes or reptiles. It has valuable minerals, too—gold, copper, lead; also coal. San Juan is lighted by both gas and electricity.

"The Spaniards were very cruel to the poor Indians who inhabited Porto Rico when Columbus discovered it. It is said that in a hundred years they had killed five hundred thousand of men, women and children."

"Oh, how dreadful!" exclaimed Elsie. "And they killed so, so many of the poor natives in Peru and in Mexico. I don't wonder that God has let their nation grow so poor and weak."

"The Porto Ricans were tired of being governed by them when we began our war with Spain to help the poor Cubans to get free," continued Grandma Elsie. "Our government and people did not know that, but thought Porto Rico should be taken from Spain, as well as Cuba. So as soon as Santiago was taken, a strong force was sent against Ponce.

"The 'Wasp' was the first vessel to arrive. It had been expected that they would have to shell the city, but as the 'Wasp' steamed close to the shore a great crowd of citizens could be seen gathered there. They were not behaving like enemies, and the troops on the 'Wasp' were at a loss to understand what it meant; therefore, the gunners stood ready to fire at an instant's warning, when Ensign Rowland Curtin was sent ashore bearing a flag of truce, four men with him.

"The citizens were cheering as if frantic with joy over their coming, and as soon as they landed overwhelmed them with gifts of tobacco, cigars, cigarettes, bananas, and other good things."

"Oh, wasn't that nice!" exclaimed Elsie. "I think they showed their good sense in preferring to be ruled by our people rather than by the Spaniards."

"As soon as the people could be calm enough to listen," continued Grandma Elsie, "Ensign Curtin announced that he had come to demand the surrender of the city and port, and asked to see the civil or military authorities.

"Some of the civil officials were there, but they could not surrender the city, as that must be the act of the military powers. There was a telephone at hand, and the ensign ordered a message sent to Colonel San Martin, the commandant, telling him that if he did not come forward and surrender the city in the course of half an hour, it would be bombarded.

"The garrison had been, and still were, debating among themselves what they should do, but as soon as they heard of this message they began looting the stores and shops, cramming underwear and clothing upon their backs and in their trousers, to check and hold the bullets which they were certain the Americans would send after them, as they scampered off.

"Ensign Curtin went back to his vessel, and, soon after, Commander C. H. Davis, of the 'Dixie,' was rowed ashore. There a note was handed him from Colonel San Martin, asking on what terms he demanded the surrender of the city. He answered that it must be unconditional. At the request of the commandant, however, he made the terms a little different. Then the padded men of the garrison waddled out of town, leaving one hundred and fifty rifles and fourteen thousand rounds of ammunition behind.

"Lieutenant Haines, commanding the marines of the 'Dixie,' landed and hoisted the Stars and Stripes over the custom-house at the port of Ponce, the onlookers cheering most heartily. After that, Lieutenant Murdoch and Surgeon Heiskell rode to the city, three miles distant, where the people fairly went wild with joy, dancing and shouting, 'Viva los Americanos. Viva Puerto Rico libre.'"

"Sensible folks I think they were to be so glad to get away from Spain and into the United States," remarked Ned, with a pleased smile.

"Yes, I think they were," said Grandma Elsie, "for it was gaining liberty—freedom from most oppressive tyranny."

She had begun her talk to the two children alone, but now quite a group had gathered about them—Dr. Harold Travilla and Grace Raymond, Chester and Lucilla Dinsmore and Mrs. Evelyn Raymond.

"I am very desirous to see Porto Rico," said Harold. "It must be a garden spot—fertile and beautiful. As we draw near it I mean to be on the lookout for El Yunque."

"What's that, uncle?" asked Ned.

"The highest point of land on the island, nearly four thousand feet high. The meaning of the name is the anvil."

"Porto Rico being in the torrid zone, it must have a very hot climate. The weather must have been very oppressive for our troops—taking it in the height of summer," remarked Grace.

"Yes," said Grandma Elsie; "but the climate is more agreeable than that of Cuba or of many places farther north, because of the land breezes that prevail, coming from both north and south."

"It is a beautiful and delightful island," remarked Harold. "I have often thought I should, some day, pay it a visit."

"Are we likely to land there?" asked his mother.

"I do not know, mother," he answered; "but I presume the Captain will say that shall be just as his passengers wish."

"Yes, I am sure father will say we may all do exactly as we please," said Lucilla; "go ashore, or stay quietly on the yacht while others go and return."

"It cannot be now the delightful place to visit that it was before the hurricane of last August," remarked Chester.

"No," said Grandma Elsie, "and I think I, for one, do not care to land on the island until they have had more time to recover from the fearful effects of that terrible storm."

"What mischief did it do, grandma?" asked Ned; "were there houses destroyed and people killed?"

"Yes; a great many," she answered, with a sigh. "I have read that in one district it was estimated that the damage done to houses and crops would reach nine hundred thousand in gold, and that in the valley of the Rio de Grande over a thousand persons disappeared, and were supposed to have been drowned by the sudden rise and overflow of the river."

"And you, mother, I know gave liberally to help repair the damages," said Harold.

"I was better able than many others who may have been quite as willing," she responded, "and I think I can do still more, if I find the need is still urgent."

"Yes, mother dear, you seem always ready and glad to help any one who needs it," said Harold, giving her a look full of proud, loving admiration.

Captain Raymond had drawn near the group just in time to hear Harold's last remark.

"Quite true, Harold," he said, "but who is to be the happy recipient of mother's bounty this time?"

"We were talking of the losses of the unfortunate Porto Ricans in last August's fearful storm," replied Harold. "Mother, as you know, has already given help, and expresses herself as ready to do more if it is needed."

"And will do it, I know," said the Captain.

"I hope, though, that my dear grandma wont give everything away and have nothing left for herself," said Elsie Raymond, with a loving look up into Grandma Elsie's face.

"I should not like to have her do that either," the Captain said, with a smile. "But the Bible tells us, 'He that hath pity upon the poor, lendeth unto the Lord, and that which he hath given will he pay him again.'"

"A promise that none of us need be afraid to trust," said Grandma Elsie, with a happy look and smile. "Do you think of visiting any part of the island, Captain?"

"That shall be as my passengers wish," he replied; "we can consider the matter and talk it over while on our way there. My present plan is to go directly to San Juan. We may stay some hours or days there, those going ashore who wish, the others remaining on the vessel. We may make the circuit of the island, entirely or in part, keeping near enough to the land to get a pretty good view of its beauties."

"Will this be your first visit to Porto Rico, Captain?" queried Chester.

"No, I paid it a flying visit some years ago; and then went up the mountains to Caguas and visited the dark cave of Aguas Buenas."

"Did it pay?" asked Chester.

"Hardly. The outside journey, though difficult, did pay, but the darkness of the cave, the multitudes of bats flying in your face, and the danger of the guides' torches going out, leaving you unable to find your way to the opening, make the expedition anything but safe or pleasant. I shall never venture in there again or advise any friend to do so."

"Are you going to take us to Cuba, too, papa?" asked Elsie.

"If my passengers wish to go there."

"Oh, I think they will; this one does, anyhow," laughed the little girl.

"Don't you think it would be pleasanter to visit it after it has had time to recover from the war?" asked Lucilla.

"Perhaps papa will bring us a second time after that?" Elsie said, with a smile up into his face.

"That is quite possible," he answered, returning the smile.

"Please, papa, tell us something about Cuba now, won't you?" pleaded Ned.

"Very willingly, if you all care to hear it," returned the Captain, and a general assent being given, he went on: "I think much of it you will all understand better, if told you while looking upon the scenes where it occurred. However, since you wish it, I shall tell at least a part of the story now.

"Doubtless, you all know that Cuba was discovered by Columbus on October 28, 1492. He said of it at one time: 'It is the most beautiful land that eyes ever beheld'; at another: 'Its waters are filled with excellent ports, its rivers are magnificent and profound'; and yet again, 'As far as the day surpasses night in brightness and splendor, it surpasses all other countries.'

"He found it beautiful not only along the shore where he first landed, but in the interior also; flowers, fruits, maize and cotton in their abundance showed the fertility of the soil. And it was inhabited by a peaceful people who gave him and his men a glad welcome, imagining them to be superior beings, and little dreaming how they were to suffer at their hands. Columbus describes them as tall and straight, like the natives of North America, of tawny complexion, and gentle disposition, being easy to influence by their masters. They were a naturally indolent race, which was not strange, considering how easy it was for them to have a comfortable living with very little exertion; there were abundance of wild fruits, and corn and cotton could be raised with little exertion; abundance of fish could be easily obtained from the waters, and if they wanted meat, a little animal resembling a rat in appearance, but tasting like a rabbit, could be had for the hunting. So it would seem they lived easy, contented and peaceful lives; and why should the Spaniards think they had a right to rob and enslave them."

"Why indeed," exclaimed Lucilla. "The Indians—if able to do so—would have had just as good a right to go over to Spain and enslave them."

"But with the Spaniards might made right," said Chester.

"But there were only a few Spaniards with Columbus and a very great many natives on these islands," remarked little Elsie, in a puzzled tone. "I wonder they didn't kill the Spaniards as soon as they began trying to make slaves of them."

"At first," said her father, "they took the Spaniards to be a race of superior beings, and gladly welcomed them to their shores. It would, doubtless, have been easy for them to crush that handful of worn-out men, and no doubt they would if they could have foreseen what their conduct toward them would be; but they mistook them for friends, and treated them as such. One cazique gave them a grand reception and feasted them amid songs and their rude music. Games, dancing and singing followed, then they were conducted to separate lodges and each provided with a cotton hammock, that proved a delightful couch to pass the night upon."

"And the Spaniards took all that kindness at the hands of those poor things and repaid them with the basest robbery and cruelty," exclaimed Elsie.

"Yes," said her father; "they even repaid that most generous hospitality by seizing some of the youngest, strongest and most beautiful of their entertainers and carrying them to Spain, where they were paraded before the vulgar gaze of the jeering crowd, then sold into slavery.

"One of their venerable caziques gave to Columbus, when he came the second time to the island, a basket of luscious fruit, saying to him, as he did so: 'Whether you are divinities or mortal men, we know not. You have come into these countries with a force, against which, were we inclined to resist, it would be folly. We are all, therefore, at your mercy; but if you are men, subject to morality, like ourselves, you cannot be unapprised that after this life there is another, wherein a very different portion is allotted to good and bad men. If, then, you expect to die, and believe, with us, that every one is to be rewarded in a future state according to his conduct in the present, you will do no hurt to those who do none to you.'"

"That old chief was certainly a very wise man for a heathen," remarked Chester.

"And how strange that the Spaniards could treat so shamefully such innocent and friendly people," said Evelyn.

"Yes," exclaimed Lucilla, "I think we may all be thankful that there is no Spanish blood in us."

"Which fact makes us the more to be blamed if we indulge in oppression and cruelty," said her father.

"Papa, did that old king live long enough to see how very cruel the Spaniards were to his people?" asked Elsie.

"That I cannot tell," replied the Captain, "but by the time another ten years had passed by, the natives of Cuba had learned that the love of the Spaniards for gold was too great ever to be satisfied, and that they themselves could not be safe with the Spaniards there; they were so alarmed that when Diego Columbus sent an armed force of three hundred men to begin to colonize Cuba, they resisted their landing. But they, the Indians, were only naked savages with frail spears and wooden swords, while the invading foes were old-world warriors who had been trained on many a hard-fought battlefield, armed with deadly weapons, protected by plate armor, and having bloodhounds to help in their cruel attempt to rob and subjugate the rightful owners of the soil. So they succeeded in their wicked designs; hundreds of those poor Indians were killed in cold blood, others spared to slavery worse than death. From being free men they became slaves to one of the most cruel and tyrannical races of the world. And they were not only abused there on their own island, but hundreds of them were taken to Europe and sold for slaves in the markets of Seville. That was to raise money to pay the expenses of their captors."

"Why," exclaimed Ned, "the Spaniards treated them as if they were just animals, instead of people."

"Papa, were they—the Indians—heathen?" asked Elsie.

"They had no images or altars, no temples, but they believed in a future existence and in a god living above the blue-domed sky," replied the Captain. "But they knew nothing of Jesus and the way of salvation, and it seems the Spaniards did not tell them of Him or give them the Bible."

"No," said Grandma Elsie, "Rome did not allow them the Bible for themselves."

"Are there a good many wild flowers in Cuba, papa?" asked Elsie.

"Yes; a great many, and of every color and tint imaginable—flowers growing wild in the woods. The foliage of the trees is scarcely less beautiful, and their tops are alive with birds of gayly-colored plumage. I have been speaking of wild, uncultivated land. The scene is even more inviting where man has been at work transforming the wildwood into cultivated fields; he has fenced them off with stone walls, which have warm russet-brown tints and are covered here and there with vines and creepers bearing bright flowers. The walks and avenues are bordered with orange-trees in blossom and fruit at the same time, both looking lovely in their setting of deep green leaves. But you have seen such in Louisiana."

"Yes, papa, and they are beautiful," said Elsie. "There must be a great deal worth seeing in Cuba, but I'll not care to land on it if you older people don't want to."

"Well, we will leave that question to be decided in the future," the Captain said, smiling down into the bright little face.

"I think I have read," said Evelyn, "that Columbus at first thought Cuba not an island but a part of the mainland?"

"Yes," replied the Captain, "but the natives assured him that it was an island; on his second trip, however, in 1494, he reiterated his previous belief and called the land Juana, after Juan, the son of Ferdinand and Isabella. Afterward he changed it to Fernandina, in honor of Ferdinand; still later to Santiago, the name of the patron saint of Spain, after that to Ave Maria. But the name Cuba clung to the island and was never lost.

"The Indians there were a peaceable race. They called themselves Ciboneyes. They had nine independent caciques, and, as I believe I have already told you, they believed in a supreme being and the immortality of the soul."

"Really, they seem to me to have been more Christian than the Spaniards who came and robbed them of their lands and their liberty," said Evelyn.