COFFEE and 
 a LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 AN AMERICAN GIRL'S ROMANCE ON 
 A COFFEE PLANTATION 
 
 BY 
 
 MARY BOARDMAN SHELDON 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 1908, by 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 September, 1908
 
 PS 
 3531 
 
 tto 
 
 MY BROTHER
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR
 
 El Cafetal, Sierra Nevada Mountains. 
 
 June 14-th. 
 
 I HAVE been here two weeks. I am 
 alive. I am well, and I like it. 
 What an experiment it was, though, 
 my coming! If I had ever, for one 
 moment, thought of myself as an angel, this 
 action on my part would have opened my 
 eyes to the fact that in reality I must be noth 
 ing else than a fool. There can be no doubt 
 whatever that this is a case in which angels 
 would have feared to tread; while I I 
 rushed in as fast as the mule could carry me. 
 I was in Santa Marta, waiting for the 
 banana boat to come in, that I might take 
 passage on it, and return to what the for 
 eigners here call " God's country." For 
 a year and a half I had been in Colombia, 
 9
 
 io COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 up in Bogota. I had come down again to 
 the coast with every intention of returning 
 to civilization by the first steamer. I suppose 
 any sane person would have done so, but on 
 the subject of travel I always acknowledge, 
 quite frankly, that I am not sane. I wonder 
 if any other girl in the world ever refused 
 to marry a man simply because she preferred 
 to go to Europe. Two years ago, in New 
 York, I told Kent Winthrop that I would 
 rather go to Europe than marry any man in 
 the world. He replied that he would rather 
 have me go to Europe than marry any man 
 in the world except him. But when I put 
 the emphasis differently, and told him that 
 I would rather go to Europe than marry any 
 man, he said rather crisply, I remember 
 that if I preferred Europe to him, to take 
 Europe by all means. I took Europe. 
 There I met the Caravallos; went with them 
 to Bogota; returned to the coast expecting 
 to go home; fell in love with Coffee, and 
 came up here to the Sierra Nevadas. Well 
 and truly does Kipling say that the " go 
 fever " is more real than many doctors' 
 diseases ! 
 
 The day that I arrived in Santa Marta I
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR n 
 
 met one of the five American men of the 
 town. The mere fact that I had arrived 
 that I was there I, a lone woman, unmar 
 ried, and without grey hairs, was in itself 
 singular enough to make it perfectly reason 
 able, almost inevitable, that this one-fifth of 
 the American male colony should put to me 
 the question that he did. I forget how he 
 phrased it; in some words that placed it 
 in the light of a fellow-countryman's friendly 
 interest but the gist of the interrogation 
 was: 
 " What in the world are you doing here? " 
 
 I answered him that I was doing nothing; 
 that is, that I had no business reason for 
 being there. I had come, I said, for pleas 
 ure. 
 
 "Pleasure?" he repeated, incredulously. 
 " Good Lord ! Pleasure! " 
 
 If I had been there for anything else, I 
 think this blanket would have been a very 
 damp one indeed; but as I really had come 
 simply because it had pleased me to do so; 
 and as* I knew that if I so wished I could 
 leave by the next Tuesday's banana boat; 
 and as, moreover and above all, I was sin 
 cerely and honestly enjoying myself at that
 
 12 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 moment, Mr. Anson's words frightened me 
 no more than does a thunder storm in a 
 play. The house is very dark, certainly, and 
 so much noise and such lightning effects ought 
 to be terrifying; yet really I am having a 
 beautiful time, and would not for worlds 
 be defrauded of one of the creepy chills that 
 go running down my back. 
 
 It was even that same first day, I think, 
 that saw the beginning of my interest in 
 Coffee. I knew, of course, before I came to 
 Santa Marta, that this was a coffee region, 
 and that up in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, 
 hereabouts, were cafetales coffee planta 
 tions. But I did not realize what the atmos 
 phere of a coffee region is until I found my 
 self in one. It means coffee and coffee and 
 coffee. Coffee lands past, present and 
 future ; coffee trees, with and without 
 shade; the picking of coffee, the drying of 
 coffee, the prices of coffee; until one feels 
 that to go back to North America without 
 having experienced a coffee plantation would 
 be to give over the remainder of one's life 
 to one, long, unavailing regret. Almost with 
 out exception everyone that I met was directly 
 interested in coffee. Either he owned a plan-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 13 
 
 tation, or was manager of one, or was going 
 to live on one to learn the business, or was 
 looking for land on which to make one, or 
 was getting up a company to capitalize one; 
 in one way or another, it was sure to be- 
 coffee. Of course there is the United Fruit 
 Company, and that is not coffee; it is 
 bananas, and it is a great power in the land. 
 Perhaps another person, going to Santa 
 Marta, would find the world all bananas; 
 but for me, from the very first, it was Coffee. 
 
 As I say, this enthusiasm came upon me 
 at once, upon my arrival, and yet there 
 seemed to be no way in which I could get any 
 nearer to Coffee than I then was perhaps 
 fifteen miles from the nearest hacienda (plan 
 tation). There are no hotels in the moun 
 tains only the homes of the planters and 
 their families and I had no excuse what 
 ever for intruding myself upon any of them. 
 I was not a capitalist, nor a prospector, nor 
 a young man seeking an opportunity to learn 
 to be a planter. I was only a woman. Why 
 should Coffee take any interest in me? And 
 yet, where there's a woman there is usually 
 a way . 
 
 On Sunday afternoon, the United States
 
 14 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 consul invited some of us to go about three 
 miles out of Santa Marta to see some old 
 Indian graves; also to visit the house in which 
 Bolivar died. El Serior Consul drove me in 
 his little one horse shay, while the others 
 rode on mules or horseback. As usual the 
 conversation turned upon coffee, and I said 
 that I had never in my life wished for any 
 thing as much as I now wanted to go to a 
 coffee plantation and experience the life there. 
 
 "Would you go as governess?" inquired 
 El Senor Consul, carelessly. He had no idea 
 that I was in earnest. 
 
 " Go as governess ! " I simply jumped at 
 the idea. Go as governess ! ! My affirm 
 ation came with such force and swiftness that 
 El Senor Consul was quite taken aback. 
 
 " You wouldn't like it at all," he assured 
 me, hastily, seeming to feel that if I did go, 
 now, he would be in some way responsible 
 for me and my well-being. 
 
 "Shouldn't like it? I should love it," I 
 told him. "Why shouldn't I like it?" 
 
 " You live in New York? " he said. 
 
 " Yes; but I like to see new places." 
 
 " Have you ever been for any length of 
 time entirely away from civilization?"
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 15 
 
 " I have spent a summer in the Adiron- 
 dacks." 
 
 El Sefior Consul smiled. 
 
 " Do you mean in the woods? " he asked. 
 
 " N-o ; not exactly. We were just across 
 the lake from the Prospect House. We used 
 to go over to the dances, and to bowl, in 
 the morning." 
 
 " Exactly. Now if you went up to El 
 Cafetal, you would simply be buried alive. 
 The Martins are nice people the very 
 nicest but they live in a four-room, mud 
 house, with a palm-thatched roof. The win 
 dows are simply openings in the walls, with 
 no glass in them. There are no doors be 
 tween the rooms --just curtains. The last 
 time I was up there, the outside door would 
 not shut within several inches the damp 
 ness had warped it. In the rainy season, 
 which is just now beginning, and will con 
 tinue until next December, everything is 
 drenched for eighteen hours out of every 
 twenty-four. The fog comes rolling into the 
 house so thick that you can almost mould 
 it up, like snow balls. When it is not rain 
 ing you can go out, but there is nowhere to 
 go. The house is on the side of a steep
 
 1 6 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 mountain; you cannot climb up because di 
 rectly back of the house begins an almost 
 impenetrable forest. If you go in the other 
 direction, you well, if you missed your 
 footing and began to roll, you would be back 
 in Santa Marta before you could stop your 
 self. The Martins are delightful people, as 
 I have said, but they are perfect strangers 
 to you. Would you not be a little forlorn 
 with them, alone? The nearest neighbors 
 are at least three miles away." 
 
 He paused. 
 
 " At last ! " I said to myself. For, all 
 the time that he had been talking, I, though 
 I had listened to him, had been carrying on 
 a train of thought of my own. 
 
 "How many children are there?" I 
 wanted to know. 
 
 " Children! Oh, six; but one of them is 
 in Barranquilla, at school." 
 
 " Are the other five old enough to have 
 lessons? " 
 
 "No; only three of them. Look here; 
 you don't really mean it, do you? Why, 
 you never heard of them until half an hour 
 ago. Aren't you at least going to think it 
 over?"
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 17 
 
 " Senor Consul," I said, " a year ago last 
 August I was in Switzerland. I had gone 
 to Europe with the idea of living as governess 
 in some French or German family, to learn 
 French or German while I taught English. 
 In Switzerland I met the Caravallos a fam 
 ily from Bogota. I had never seen or heard 
 of them before, and as for the place they 
 came from, I knew so little of it that when 
 one of them told me that his home was Co 
 lombia, British Columbia was the only 
 country of that name that occurred to me. 
 When he explained that it was Colombia, 
 South America, I went to my room and looked 
 in an atlas to find out whether Colombia was 
 north or south of Rio Janeiro. Only three 
 out of the eight Caravallos knew a word of 
 English, and, until then, I had never even, 
 heard the Spanish language spoken. When 
 I had known these people four weeks, they 
 asked me if I would return with them to Bo 
 gota, as governess for the one daughter, a 
 girl of fifteen. It was about five o'clock in 
 the afternoon when they suggested the plan 
 to me, and when we went in to dinner, every 
 thing had been arranged. The next day I 
 went to Geneva and secured my passage on
 
 1 8 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 the same steamer that the Caravallos were 
 sailing on. I went with them to Bogota, 
 remained with them a year and a half, and 
 I was so far from regretting it that now I 
 am ready " 
 
 '* To do it all over again at El Cafetal," 
 interrupted El Senor Consul. 
 
 "Yes," I said, positively; "to go to El 
 Cafetal if they will have me." 
 
 Of course there was that side to be con 
 sidered. I, being, as I have explained, not 
 an angel, but the other thing, might be 
 willing to go to an unknown family, in a mud 
 house, in the woods, twenty miles from Santa 
 Marta, which was two thousand miles from 
 home. But to those people / was the un 
 known quantity, not they, and who could tell 
 if they would care to take their chances with 
 me? As Elizabeth says of her governess, 
 " I am afraid she despises us because she 
 thinks we are foreigners We, on the other 
 hand, regard her as a foreigner, which, of 
 course, makes things very complicated." 
 
 On that point, however, El Senor Consul, 
 quite properly else why is he consul? 
 offered to arbitrate, or mediate, or intervene,. 
 or whatever it is that consuls do to get their
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 19 
 
 countrymen out of difficulties (only in this 
 case it was a countrywoman, and into difficul 
 ties instead of out of them), and said 
 that the next time that Mr. Martin " came 
 down," he would try to arrange matters for 
 me. 
 
 " You speak," I said, " as if Mr. Martin 
 were the angel Gabriel, about to descend 
 from Paradise. How does he come down, 
 and what for? " 
 
 " Wait until you go up to El Ca fetal, and 
 you will know," was the only answer that I 
 received. I have come up, and I do, indeed, 
 understand all about it. 
 
 Mr. Martin arrived in Santa Marta a day 
 or two later, and went, of course, to the con 
 sulate. I was sent for in haste, ushered into 
 the sola (sitting room), and introduced as 
 the young woman who would like to go into 
 the mountains as governess. Mr. Martin 
 looked me over and said he would consult 
 his wife on the subject and let me know. 
 Mrs. Martin has since told me that she asked 
 her husband what kind of looking person I 
 was. 
 
 "How does she look?" he answered. 
 " Oh, I don't know. I believe she is rather
 
 20 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 neat-looking." To such an extent may a 
 man be married. 
 
 Mrs. Martin must have felt that neatness 
 was a desirable quality in a governess, for a 
 few days later I received a note from her 
 (brought down by Juana because they were 
 afraid to send a man, lest he be seized for 
 the revolution) in which she said that they 
 would be glad to have me; that Mr. Martin 
 would be down on Monday, and I could re 
 turn with him. She added that they were 
 building a new house which would have 
 plenty of rooms in it; it would be finished 
 in three or four months; in the meantime, she 
 hoped I would not mind sleeping with the 
 children. I thought of El Serior Consul's 
 reply to my question as to the number of little 
 Martins, and I will admit that for the mo 
 ment my heart failed me. Then I remem 
 bered Coffee, and sent back a note by Juana 
 saying that I and my steamer trunk would 
 be ready at the time appointed. I packed 
 my other trunks, with pounds of camphor 
 against the moths, and had all things taken to 
 the house of the Seriora Consul, who kindly 
 offered to store them for me until such time 
 as I shpuld " come down " to go home. In
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 21 
 
 these days of revolution, the foreign con 
 sulates are of course the houses that are safest 
 from loot; and there may be fighting in Santa 
 Marta at any time. In the steamer trunk I 
 packed such clothes as could be washed; on 
 my big shade hat I put fresh muslin bows, 
 and then I was ready. For weal or for woe, 
 I was to spend the next six months in the wil 
 derness. 
 
 We left Santa Marta at six o'clock in the 
 morning. Mr. Martin had brought down a 
 mule for me to ride, and another for my 
 trunk, which was hung from a pack-saddle on 
 one side of the mule, and balanced by an 
 equal weight of cargo rice, oil, flour 
 what ever happened to be going up to the 
 hacienda on the other side. There were 
 other cargo mules, also, going up laden with 
 articles for the store (every plantation has 
 its own store, where the men and their fam 
 ilies can buy what they need), and two ar- 
 rieros, or muleteers, were driving the animals 
 in front of them. It is twenty-one miles 
 from Santa Marta to El Ca/etal, and in that 
 distance there is a rise of four thousand feet, 
 so that the trail is a steep one; yet the natives 
 not the men, only, but the women and the
 
 22 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 children think nothing of going up and 
 down on foot. The arrieros go most of the 
 way on a sort of trot, and have no difficulty 
 in keeping pace with the mules, even on level 
 ground. 
 
 The sun was just up as Mr. Martin and I 
 rode away from the hotel, but already it was 
 very hot. For the first two hours, the way 
 is over the plain which extends back from 
 Santa Marta and the Bay for perhaps eight 
 miles. The rainy season on the coast has 
 only lately begun, following a dry season of 
 four or five months, and the plain is burnt to 
 a crisp. That part of the ride up is the least 
 attractive. About eight o'clock we com 
 menced to ascend, and from then on it was 
 a constant climb. After a while the air be 
 gan to feel fresher and cooler, and above two 
 thousand feet we had beautiful views of 
 Santa Marta, down below, with the Bay, and 
 beyond that the Caribbean Sea, stretching 
 out to the horizon. We passed several coffee 
 plantations on our way up. El Cafetal is 
 the farthest one from Santa Marta ; that 
 is, the farthest in this valley. There are 
 other plantations in the next valley, and one 
 of them, they say, is higher than we are.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 23 
 
 I began to like Mr. Martin during that 
 morning's ride, and before we reached the 
 end of it, I was hoping that I should find Mrs. 
 Martin half as nice as he was. 
 
 After it had been decided that I was to 
 come up here (most persons would have 
 done it before, instead of after, I suppose), 
 I asked El Senor Consul : 
 
 " What sort of man is Mr. Martin? " 
 
 "What sort?" answered El Senor Con 
 sul. " He is the manager of a coffee plan 
 tation." 
 
 " Of course," I returned, surprised. 
 " That is what he does. I mean, what is he? 
 What is he like?" 
 
 " He is like the only kind of man that 
 can be a successful coffee planter," persisted 
 El Senor Consul. 
 
 " You mean that he knows all about 
 coffee?" 
 
 " No one in the world knows all about 
 coffee. However, Mr. Martin knows as 
 much as is possible, I believe. But that is by 
 no means all that is necessary. A coffee man 
 ager must manage that is very important 
 indeed." 
 
 " Manage the plantation? "
 
 24 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 " Manage the mozos the working 
 hands. Do you know how many men there 
 are at El Cafetal?" 
 
 "No. How many?" 
 
 u About one hundred, more or less, I 
 should think. Most of them have families. 
 They live in ranchos palm-thatched huts 
 scattered here and there over the hacienda. 
 Now those mozos need a master who thor 
 oughly understands them." 
 
 "Are they difficult to control?" 
 
 4 Control ' isn't the word ; at least, it 
 isn't with a good manager. He comes to 
 that only as a last resort." 
 
 "What does he do first?" 
 
 " Oh, he manipulates, he directs, he guides, 
 he conducts, he regulates. As I said, he man 
 ages." 
 
 " Ah ! " I responded, thoughtfully. My 
 query, " What sort of man is Mr. Martin? " 
 was being answered. I was beginning to 
 know. 
 
 "But the mozos ?" I questioned fur 
 ther. "They are ?" 
 
 " ' Half savage and half child,' " quoted 
 El Senor Consul. " That just expresses it. 
 They are as irresponsible and unreliable as
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 25 
 
 children, with the elemental passions and in 
 stincts of savages. It is impossible to deal 
 with them as with reasonable beings, yet there 
 is always the necessity for working out a rea 
 sonable plan of action with them and through 
 them." 
 
 "And Mr. Martin does this?" 
 
 " Oh, yes; he does it. You will see. For 
 one thing, they all realise that there is no part 
 of the work which, he himself does not know 
 how to do, from planting the coffee to shoeing 
 the mules." 
 
 About half past eleven to return to the 
 morning of my coming up here as we were 
 riding in a place where the valley opens out, 
 and permits a long view to the left, Mr. Mar 
 tin pointed with his whip to a white spot on 
 the side of a mountain, about a mile and a 
 half away. 
 
 " Do you see that? " he asked me. 
 
 "Yes," I said, "what is it?" 
 
 " It is the place you are going to," he an 
 swered, " That is the manager's house of El 
 Cafetal." 
 
 So that was the four-roomed, palm- 
 thatched, mud house, with apologies for
 
 26 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 doors and windows, of which El Serior Con 
 sul had warned me. I strained my eyes to 
 see it better, and, really as we drew near, I 
 was reassured, for small as it certainly was, 
 and queer, and alien-looking to United States 
 eyes, it yet had an air of home and welcome 
 about it. At the time I thought this might 
 be on account of the roses; but now, a week 
 later, I know that it is due to the house-lady 
 La Nina Eva. 
 
 We rode up to the corridor, and at once 
 there appeared to be forty or fifty children 
 running to greet us, all shouting with one 
 voice, " Ahi viene la teacher! " " Ah'i viene 
 la teacher!" "Here comes the teacher! 
 Here comes the teacher! " These resolved 
 themselves, presently, into three children who 
 were old enough to run and talk; one old 
 enough to run and shout, and one two-months- 
 old baby in her mother's arms. 
 
 I looked at Mrs. Martin, and Mrs. Mar 
 tin looked at me the while she put her arm 
 around me and said something I have no 
 idea what, except that from that moment I 
 felt that I was at home. I do not know, of 
 course, what was the result in Mrs. Martin's
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 27 
 
 mind of her scrutiny of the new governess; 
 but as for me and my mind we were abso 
 lutely and perfectly satisfied. 
 
 The required characteristics of a frontiers 
 man's wife are the same the world over, I 
 fancy. Some women take the hard life well 
 and cheerfully, and some grumble and make 
 the worst of it. But the life is there and it 
 must be lived, and I hope that if ever I had 
 to live it, I should do it as Mrs. Martin 
 does. 
 
 Though we have six house-servants, they 
 are all so incompetent that Mrs. Martin has 
 to be busy from morning to night. In the 
 first place, she makes all of her own and the 
 children's clothes; she bakes the bread, and 
 she makes the butter when there is milk 
 enough to churn. Though there is a woman 
 in the kitchen whose sole business is to cook, 
 it falls upon Mrs. Martin to make all the 
 dulces that is, the sweets, preserves, des 
 serts, etc. and any other dish that requires 
 brains and nice handling. Occasionally 
 there is a laundress who knows enough to 
 starch the clothes, but usually there is none so 
 gifted, and so Mrs. Martin has that to do. 
 Besides all this, La Nina Eva raises all the
 
 28 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 vegetables that come upon our table. She 
 has a fine little garden, and she does all the 
 planting, weeding and picking herself. I 
 have had nothing like such good things to eat 
 since I left New York. All of our beef is 
 killed on the place (the killing is done Sun 
 day mornings, at four o'clock, by the way of 
 beginning the week well) and for the first 
 time in eighteen months I am enjoying rare 
 roasts and good American beef steaks. In 
 Bogota, when they kill an animal, the next 
 thing they do is to bleed it until the flesh is 
 like to that nominated in Shylock's bond. 
 Then they cook the meat over a slow fire until 
 a nice, tender, juicy piece of leather would 
 be a luxury by comparison. Then it is al 
 lowed to cool, is cut into slices and served on 
 cold plates; and when one eats of it spar 
 ingly, the Colombians cry, " A*ve Maria! 
 Que raro que no le gusta la carne! " " Hail 
 Mary! How strange that you do not like 
 meat!" As for fresh vegetables, let a 
 native have his rice cooked with lard, and his 
 fried platanos, and he would not give a 
 Thank you for all the market produce of 
 New Jersey.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 29 
 
 I am writing in my room; not mine and 
 the children's, but all mine. Some people 
 are said to be as good as their word: Mrs. 
 Martin is very much better than hers. 
 
 On my arrival she made me welcome, as I 
 have written. Then she said to me, " Won't 
 you come into your room and take off your 
 hat?" 
 
 I followed her, wondering if there would 
 be a separate bed for me, or if the five chil 
 dren and I should all bunk in together. We 
 passed through a room which looked as if it 
 were used as a sitting-room, because there 
 was a desk in it, and books and sewing were 
 about; but which, at the same time, I saw 
 must be the dining-room, for there was the 
 dining table, set for breakfast. Mrs. Mar 
 tin lifted a curtain (no doors between the 
 rooms; you told the truth, Sefior Consul!), 
 and there was another room, not large, but 
 very neat looking like me. In a corner 
 was one bed only one and that a single- 
 size canvas cot. Did the children sleep on 
 the floor, then? Did they sleep in the bed, 
 and was I to sleep on the floor? Were all 
 six of us to sleep in that bed, just large enough 
 for one ?
 
 30 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 " This was the dining-room," Mrs. Mar 
 tin's voice broke in upon my amazement; 
 " but I thought it would be nicer for you to 
 have a room alone; so we have had the din 
 ing table taken into the sala, and this ar 
 ranged for you." 
 
 That night, as I was going to sleep in the 
 little canvas cot, I heard strange, rustling 
 noises over my head. There are no ceilings 
 in the house only the poles of the roof, 
 thatched with palm leaves which on the in 
 side are as dry as a bone. This roof does 
 not fit very tightly on the side walls, so that 
 under the eaves there are spaces through 
 which the air passes freely. 
 
 "Ah," I said to myself, sleepily, "the 
 wind is rustling the palm leaves. What a 
 pretty thought! And how interesting!" 
 
 But in the middle of the night I was awak 
 ened by a soft thud on the outside of my 
 blankets, as if some small not very small 
 - object had dropped onto the bed. It was 
 as though a kitten had jumped from the floor, 
 or fallen from the roof: yet I had seen no 
 kittens. It was very curious; but I had been 
 awake soon after four that morning; I had 
 travelled twenty miles on a mule, and I was
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 31 
 
 tired and very sleepy, so I could not stay 
 awake to wonder at anything. 
 
 About daylight always very near to six 
 o'clock in this latitude I opened my eyes, 
 remembered where I was, and glanced about 
 me. Again I heard the rustling noises over 
 head, and I looked up to the roof. The 
 palm leaves were moving but not in the 
 wind! The roof was simply alive with rats, 
 running over the poles, and among the thatch, 
 in all directions. This was my pretty 
 thought ! It was still interesting, certainly, 
 but there are times when one would willingly 
 remain uninterested, even to the point of 
 boredom. 
 
 I dressed hastily and went out. My little 
 room has three doors; one communicating 
 with the sala, and two opening on the corri 
 dor which runs all around the house. The 
 sun was just rising, though it would not ap 
 pear above the mountain back of us for two 
 hours yet. If the view that I saw that morn 
 ing, and have seen every morning since, were 
 in Europe Cook and Company would not 
 be able to sell tickets fast enough to the tour 
 ists who would flock to see it. I stood on 
 our front corridor, and, looking down the
 
 32 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 whole length of the valley, I saw Santa 
 Marta, twenty miles away, lying, in that early 
 morning light, white and glittering, like a 
 city in a dream. Santa Marta has the most 
 beautiful situation that can be imagined 
 built on its wide curve of the Caribbean Sea, 
 with the Sierra Nevada Mountains rising 
 behind it. When I came to Colombia, I 
 landed at Barranquilla; but I should like to 
 come again, and sail straight past the Morro 
 into Santa Marta Bay, either very early in 
 the morning, or at sunset. 
 
 On my right, then, as I say, was the long 
 vista of the valley, with Santa Marta lying 
 at the foot, and beyond that, the sea. To 
 the left, range after range of mountains. 
 Back of the house, the mountains and the for 
 ests; in front, far in the distance; the Magda- 
 lena River; and, nearer, the lagoons which 
 we crossed when we came from Barranquilla. 
 I remember that at five o'clock on the last 
 morning of that trip from Barranquilla, a 
 fellow-passenger came to the window of the 
 little cabin in which we women had slept, 
 and called to me to come on deck. " Do 
 come out," he said, "the view is beautiful; 
 the Sierra Nevadas all pink; the moon,
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 33 
 
 and three stars of the Southern Cross! " I 
 hurried out, and found thai it was just get 
 ting light; that the sun was almost risen, while 
 the moon had not yet set; and of the stars, 
 only those three great ones of the Cross still 
 remained in the sky. I had no idea, then, 
 that I should ever be living in those Sierra 
 Nevada Mountains, looking so lovely in the 
 dawn of a tropic day. 
 
 By this time I am beginning to know the 
 plantation and its life rather well. 
 
 As to the house, it is all that El Senor Con 
 sul told me, and more also, as he did not men 
 tion the rats. There are four rooms. One 
 of them is occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Mar 
 tin, the baby, Dollie, and the two-year-old 
 boy, Willie. In another are the eldest girl, 
 Carmelita, aged nine, Alva, seven, and Clara, 
 five. These three are my pupils. The third 
 room is the combined dining-room and sala, 
 and the fourth is mine. As in all southern 
 establishments, the kitchen, storerooms and 
 servants' rooms are detached. 
 
 We certainly are perched on the side of a 
 steep mountain, and it is a daily wonder that 
 we do not all roll off the place. We go out, 
 as we say, " to take a walk"; but what we
 
 34 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 really do is to fall down four hundred feet 
 and then climb up again. We do this almost 
 every day, in order to visit " la casa nueva," 
 the new house and watch the process of 
 its construction. The whole interest of El 
 Cafetal now centers around that casa nueva, 
 (even Coffee is more or less in the back 
 ground) and it is going to be the day of our 
 lives when it is finished and we move into it. 
 
 We all get up at six o'clock, and at half 
 past six we have desayuno coffee, dulce 
 (sweet) and bread and butter. By half past 
 seven I have begun to teach, and lessons go 
 on until twelve. Then Mr. Martin and his 
 overseer, Don Pepe, a man half Italian and 
 half Colombian, come in from their work, and 
 w'e have " breakfast." In the afternoon my 
 pupils and I climb up or down until we get 
 caught in the rain; then we break off huge 
 banana leaves, and under the very excellent 
 shelter of these we scurry back to the house. 
 I arrive panting for breath, and more or less 
 wet, as I do not know how to manage my 
 banana leaf; but the children are perfectly 
 calm, dry and unconcerned. We are be 
 coming very good friends, the children and I. 
 
 I think El Serior Consul exaggerated the
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 35 
 
 rainy season, though, to be sure, it is early 
 days yet, and I have by no means lived 
 through the worst of one. The mornings 
 are brilliant with sunshine tropical sun 
 shine and blue skies. About breakfast 
 time that is, remember, twelve o'clock 
 the clouds begin to gather, and the mist rolls 
 up the valley until we cannot see the nearest 
 rancho, only a stone's throw away. Then 
 the rain falls heavily for several hours, but 
 by five o'clock, or thereabouts, the sun is out 
 again, and the sunsets are simply gorgeous. 
 
 At five in the afternoon the signal is given 
 for the men to stop work. Someone gen 
 erally one of the children strikes a stone 
 against the blade of an old hoe that has been 
 suspended from a tree; the sound reverber 
 ates like a Chinese gong, and can be heard 
 a long distance. Then Mr. Martin and Don 
 Pepe come home (Don Pepe, by the way, 
 sleeps in the store) and about six we have 
 our dinner. By the time the sun sets the air 
 is chill, and as it often begins to rain in the 
 evening and rains all night, there is a good 
 deal of dampness in the house, though I have 
 not yet moulded the fog into balls. We 
 have an open fire in the sala, and though the
 
 36 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 chimney smokes dreadfully, the blaze is cheer 
 ful and comfortable. Mr. Martin says the 
 chimney of the new house is not going to 
 smoke. Ojalaf as the natives say; which, 
 being freely translated, means, Dear me, I 
 hope so ! 
 
 Those who get up at six are apt to go to 
 bed at nine, and so we do. Directly after 
 dinner the children are put to bed. We 
 Olympians talk for a short time about the 
 new house, and all we mean to do therein, 
 and then we, too, get under the blankets 
 two or three apiece, for the nights are cold. 
 
 June 1 6th. 
 
 We had a caller, yesterday. Even if we 
 live in the woods, we do have callers. This 
 was an Englishman, a neighbor of ours; 
 not a next-door neighbor, exactly, but one 
 from an hacienda not more than eight or ten 
 miles away. He rode up on his mule, dis 
 mounted at the corridor, and Mrs. Martin 
 introduced him to me. 
 
 " Ah ! " he said, when it was made known 
 to him that I am an American ; " Ah ! I have 
 never been in the States, but I have a friend 
 who went over there last year."
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 37 
 
 "Indeed?" I said. Someway, I did not 
 exactly like the tone. 
 
 " Yes. He was a peer, you know, but 
 er not rich. He went over er he'd 
 heard so much about American girls, don't 
 you know." 
 
 "Yes?" I returned, politely, "Well?" 
 
 " Well, by Jove ! he came back and said 
 that all the nice girls he'd met were poor. 
 Hard luck, wasn't it?'" 
 
 " Why? " I asked, still politeful, like Mul- 
 vaney. 
 
 " Why, of course, he couldn't marry 'em, 
 don't you know. He went over on purpose 
 to" 
 
 " To marry an heiress? " 
 
 " Of course. You know how you how 
 American girls jump at a title. He married 
 one who had 200,000 in her own right, and 
 would have more when her father died." 
 
 " But I thought that he told you " 
 
 " That all the nice girls were poor. He 
 did. That's why I say it was hard luck. 
 The girl he married was awfully vulgar 
 must have been, don't you know, or she 
 wouldn't have taken him for his title." 
 
 This was too much. I saw Mrs. Martin
 
 38 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 pressing her lips together. The Englishman 
 was her guest, but he was not mine. 
 
 " She must have been vulgar, because she 
 married a man for his title," I repeated. 
 '' Well, if that is vulgarity, what words will 
 you use to describe the character of a man 
 who deliberately crosses the ocean to look 
 for a girl with money enough to support him, 
 and who, having found her, and made her his 
 wife, returns home and says openly that all 
 the nice girls that he met were poor? " 
 
 Here I looked at Mrs. Martin and saw 
 that she was encouraging me with her eyes, 
 so I went on, 
 
 " It is doubtless vulgar, as it is certainly 
 wrong, to marry for any reason except love. 
 But, really, it seems to me that of the two am 
 bitions, that of the girl who desires a title, 
 with all that that implies birth, family, po 
 sition, and, supposedly, culture and breeding, 
 is very much finer and less vulgar than the 
 ambition of the man whose greed is for money 
 - simply money nothing higher, and 
 nothing more." 
 
 Mr. Englishman looked positively im 
 pressed. He said : " By Jove ! " and 
 added that he had never thought of it in that
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 39 
 
 way before. When an Englishman is nice, 
 he is very nice indeed, but when he is rude 
 he is so horrid that he makes the average 
 American ashamed of his ancestors. 
 
 Another guest was expected by us a few 
 days ago, but just as he was about to leave 
 Santa Marta the Government demanded his 
 horse for the use of some officer, and now he 
 is waiting with what patience he can for the 
 animal to be returned. Up here we seem 
 far away from the war, but it is going right 
 on with no signs of an end. To-day a mozo 
 brought up the news of four hundred liber 
 als in Bonda, and consequent alarm and ex 
 citement in Santa Marta, only five miles away. 
 I am glad my trunks are at the consulate! 
 The Government is seizing every man it can 
 lay its hands on, so that it is not safe to send 
 arrieros down. Already one of our mozos 
 has been taken. An evening or two ago a 
 small force of armed men came from Santa 
 Marta up the valley, seizing men and mules 
 as they could catch them. Sixteen mules and 
 some men were taken from our nearest neigh 
 bors, on an English plantation, three miles 
 below us. A mozo who escaped brought the 
 alarm up to us, and our men flew to the moun-
 
 40 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 tains, to spend the night in the woods. All 
 our mules were hidden, so that by the time 
 the " commission " reached here, as far as 
 we were concerned there was not a mozo nor 
 a mule in the world. Mr. Martin says he 
 has enough provisions here on the finca 
 (plantation) to last three months, in case we 
 should be absolutely unable to keep up com 
 munication with the coast. I believe my 
 chief thought in such an event would be 
 mail. The banana boat comes to Santa 
 Marta every fourteen days, so that the 
 time is divided into mail week and no 
 mail week. However, it will always be 
 safe for Mr. Martin himself to go down 
 the Government can hardly impress an Amer 
 ican citizen and in an extremity he could 
 be our postman. I had a package of letters 
 to-day, more than half of them from people 
 who expected me home on the steamer of six 
 weeks ago. The mail was sent to my New 
 York address, and then forwarded to me here. 
 It was mostly invitations " To lunch, Tues 
 day; " " To dinner, Thursday; " ' To spend 
 Sunday," and so on. I had, as I read, a 
 queer, mixed feeling of being almost at home, 
 and at the same time, very, very far away.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 41 
 
 One letter, Edith's, says that Kent Win- 
 throp has gone off somewhere, no one knows 
 where, or what for. I have not had one 
 word from him since the note he sent to the 
 steamer, the day I sailed for Liverpool. 
 
 " Good-bye," he said, then. ; ' If you ever 
 feel that you have had all of Europe that 
 you want, there will always be New York to 
 come back to, you know." 
 
 I have always kept that note. Once in a 
 while I think of the last words, and they 
 make a warm, comfortable sort of feeling 
 around my heart "There will always be 
 New York to come back to, you know." 
 
 Now, it seems, Kent himself has left New 
 York. I wonder why. 
 
 June 20th. 
 
 The next time I meet an angel, I am going 
 to say to her: 
 
 " Angel, that fearing-to-tread policy of 
 yours is utterly and entirely a mistaken one." 
 'Why?" she will demand, with some as 
 perity, for even angels (in fact, especially 
 angels) hate to be told that they are in the 
 wrong " Why?" 
 
 " Because," I shall answer, firmly, " be-
 
 42 4 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 cause it is a policy which, as long as you per 
 mit it to dictate to you, will prevent you from 
 doing those things that you wish to do by 
 making you believe that some day you will 
 wish that you had not done them." 
 
 And then, to convince her that such belief 
 is quite unsupported by experience, I shall 
 relate the true tale of my rushing in. 
 
 I had a queer dream last night. I thought 
 that the father of some acquaintances of 
 mine in New York had died, and that I, 
 as soon as I heard of the bereavement, had 
 called at the house and left my card. I had 
 written one word on the card before handing 
 it in, and that word I had intended to be Sym 
 pathy. To my horror, however, no sooner 
 was the door of the house closed, and I out 
 on the sidewalk, that I knew for an absolute 
 certainty that what I had really said had been 
 not Sympathy, but Congratulations. 
 
 Some persons, I believe, would take that 
 dream as a warning that if they stayed too 
 long in uncivilised places they would not 
 know how to conduct themselves when once 
 they returned to lands enlightened. For my 
 part, I think that if it has any significance 
 at all, it points out what foolish, unmean-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 43 
 
 ing things people do when they move in met 
 ropolitan society. 
 
 Now " we " - by way of contrast 
 " we " have been planting coffee trees 
 22,000 of them during the past four days. 
 
 Coffee-planting time on a finca is a season 
 not to be lightly entered upon, nor to be lived 
 through save by walking delicately, and taking 
 much serious thought for the morrow. It 
 is planned for and arranged days beforehand, 
 every circumstance (but, above all, the 
 weather) being taken into consideration, and, 
 as far as possible, rendered propitious. We 
 are now well along in the rainy season, but 
 each year, at about this time, occurs what is 
 called by the natives " El verano de San 
 Juan " " St. John's summer " and by that 
 they mean a period of a week or ten days, 
 within which, if it rain at all, the downfall 
 is very slight. To put in coffee trees during 
 El verano de San Juan would be folly, be 
 cause, unless the treelings are well soaked 
 within twenty-hours after they are trans 
 planted, they will probably die; or, if they 
 manage to live, they will never flourish. The 
 trouble is that even an experienced manager 
 can not be sure when the summer of St. John
 
 44 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 will arrive, for if it occurred on schedule time, 
 it would not be a Colombian season. Rain 
 may have fallen every day for weeks ; it may 
 be long before the verano could possibly be 
 expected; and the manager may decide that 
 the hour for planting is at hand. He puts 
 in several thousand coffee trees, when, be 
 hold; a ten days' drought, and all has been 
 done in vain. 
 
 These little trees that Mr. Martin and the 
 mozos have been putting in during the last 
 four days are the fittest among thousands 
 upon thousands that came up from seeds 
 sown in the nurseries a year ago. Only the 
 strongest and best are taken. The roots are 
 most carefully put into holes that have been 
 most carefully prepared for them, and then 
 the holes are most carefully filled in, that no 
 rootlet may be broken or injured. When 
 one considers that on the growth and vigor 
 of these trees depend the coffee crops of the 
 future, and that upon the coffee crops of the 
 future depends the success or failure of El 
 Cafetal, one understands why planting-time 
 is taken so seriously. 
 
 In these days Mr. Martin is up at four
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 45 
 
 o'clock (and so is Mrs. Martin). He has 
 his coffee by lamplight, and goes forth with 
 his men long before sunrise. By daylight 
 they are in the clearing, where over twenty 
 thousand holes have already been dug. 
 Some of the men carry on their backs great 
 loads of the young trees from the nurseries 
 to the clearing, where others receive them and 
 put them into the holes, as I have said. All 
 day long Mr. Martin watches jealously, lest 
 a single root of one tree be handled care 
 lessly. His breakfast is sent out to him, for 
 he is too far away from the house to return 
 at noon. During the morning the sun beats 
 hotly, even at this altitude; and, from one to 
 four, the rain, as cold as the sun was hot, 
 comes soaking down. (Ojala! For if not, 
 it may be that this planting will have to be 
 done all over again.) About five comes 
 home Mr. Martin, tired, hungry, wet but 
 if wet, then happy for the same rain that 
 has gone " a chorros " down the back of his 
 neck has fallen on the ground, and so soaked 
 the roots of the little trees that they, three 
 years hence, will begin to bring forth fruit 
 let us hope one hundred fold.
 
 46 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 June 24th., Sunday. 
 
 The nearest church of any kind is in Santa 
 Marta, twenty miles from here. The nearest 
 Protestant church, as far as I know, is in 
 Barranquilla. We Cafetalanos do not go to 
 church; but "Nature comes, sometimes, and 
 says, ' I am ambassador for God ! ' Go 
 ing to church does not make a Sunday. 
 I have had real Sabbaths without church, 
 and, in Bogota, real church with no Sabbath. 
 
 Here in the mountains we go to bed on 
 Saturday nights with a blessed sense of an 
 unlimited sleeping time before us. As a mat 
 ter of fact, we do not sleep very late, but 
 we sleep as long as we like, and princes and 
 potentates can do no more. Desayuno is 
 taken lingeringly, in a large, unhurried at 
 mosphere of rest; then, with health and a 
 day, we set about making the pomp of em 
 perors ridiculous. 
 
 This morning we fared us forth, over the 
 plantation. Mrs. Martin and I rode mules, 
 for the way is long and steep ; but Mr. Mar 
 tin and the children, Carmie, Alva and Clara, 
 walked sturdily. On and on we went, slowly 
 and happily, because " the world is so full of 
 a number of things," until at last we reached
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 47 
 
 what is, undoubtedly, the site of an old In 
 dian village. There is a large, level space 
 where once were dwellings that is quite 
 evident from the quantity of broken pottery 
 lying about remains of bowls, cooking 
 utensils and water jars. In the centre of the 
 area is lying, embedded in the earth, so that 
 only its upper surface is visible, an enormous 
 flat stone, circular in shape; and, making a 
 complete circle around it, are smaller stones, 
 also flat. Mrs. Martin and I are tormented 
 by a great desire to know what it all means, 
 and what is buried within this circle. Some 
 thing there must be; those slabs were not put 
 there for nothing. It must have been with 
 some serious purpose that the old Indians 
 cut and shaped the stones, and with so much 
 labor placed them as they are. 
 
 If Mr. Martin is at all interested in the 
 matter, he will not admit it. We beg him to 
 have at least the great centre stone taken up, 
 but he points out that to do so would be a 
 tremendous piece of work, requiring the time 
 and labor of many mozos; and the time and 
 labor of mozos, he seems to believe, are more 
 wisely employed in planting coffee trees. 
 
 This afternoon, after we had returned
 
 48 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 from our paseo, had had a late breakfast and 
 were sitting out on the corridor, I spoke to 
 Don Pepe about my interest in the Indians 
 of by-gone days. He has travelled all over 
 this region, on mules and on foot, leagues and 
 leagues beyond our valley, and has lived for 
 weeks at a time with Indian tribes far in the 
 interior tribes who scarcely know the 
 white man, or are know of him. Once, he 
 says, he met an Indian who told him that he 
 was one hundred and ten years old, and Don 
 Pepe says the man certainly looked it. This 
 aged red man had heard from his grandfather 
 strange tales of the days when the Spanish 
 priests first came to the land, and if half the 
 things he told Don Pepe were true, those 
 " fathers " must have been a precious lot. I 
 got so excited, hearing about it, that our as 
 sistant actually went down to the store and 
 climbed up again, bringing back with him a 
 paper, written in Spanish, in a fine little Latin 
 hand. He handed it to me, and this is a 
 translation of what I read: 
 
 " Related by Teti Florez Izquirdo, an In 
 dian one hundred and ten years old, regarding 
 the arrival of the Capuchin fathers, or priests, 
 to the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 49 
 
 " Those, dressed in red, who have long 
 beards and a tonsure around the head are 
 truly Capuchins." (A capuchin is a South 
 American monkey, with the hair on the head 
 aranged like a cowl.) "They are identical 
 with those who, hundreds of years before 
 (my great-grandfather, Nastuyama, and my 
 grandfather, Nasarumaka, related it to me, 
 as I tell it to-day), had, besides those signs, 
 rosaries at the wabt, together with a cord 
 with knots, and sandals on their feet. Thus 
 they are always the same, and perhaps with 
 the same ideas. Perhaps, in such case, they 
 will again persecute the Indians, and compel 
 them to change their religion. Again they 
 will want to catch us with halters around our 
 necks, to force us to live in villages. They 
 will want, as they did then, to compel us to 
 bring them sheep, fish, fowls, eggs, potatoes, 
 onions, and everything else that they may care 
 to ask for. If, unfortunately, there are any 
 Indians who resist their demands, they will 
 tie us hand and foot, and thus they will cause 
 us to approach the fire, burning the sole of 
 the foot until we agree to what they require. 
 If by reason of the time of our freedom 
 there should be any strong Indian who could
 
 50 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 endure those torments, they will not then con 
 tent themselves, but will call the other Indians 
 cowards, because they are indolent, to induce 
 them to cut more firewood, quantities of fire 
 wood, enough to make a pile as high as our 
 houses. They will fasten, in front of the 
 church, a post, and they will tie to it any one 
 who has had strength to resist. Then they 
 will heap around the post all the firewood 
 that may have been cut, and when they think 
 that it is enough, one of them will set fire to 
 the wood; another, with a cross in his hand, 
 will say that he has from God a sickness in 
 his body, and that this Indian burns in order 
 that others may not have this sickness also. 
 When the poor Indian begins to cry and 
 scream, then all the priests begin to sing, and 
 keep on singing until there remains nothing of 
 the Indian, nor of the post, nor of the fire 
 wood nothing more than a pile of ashes. 
 As we punish children, they will give us 
 lashes in the public square; they will cut our 
 ears, our noses, our fingers and our toes. 
 They will take away our sons in order to con 
 vert them, and our women will suffer the 
 same punishments as ourselves. Know, 
 therefore, that not one of us may esteem these
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 51 
 
 greybeards. The best that could happen 
 would be that they die of hunger, or 
 that they would go away. No Indian would 
 permit himself to sell them food, or to give 
 them water; he who would do that would con 
 sider himself an enemy to his race, and the 
 good God would punish him in his own time. 
 They will begin as sheep and they will end 
 as tigers. They will commence by giving us 
 medals which value nothing, and figures 
 painted on paper; then, little by little, they 
 will collect all they have given us, and will 
 end by consuming everything we have. No 
 one may approach the place where they live, 
 that they may manage for themselves. As 
 to their eating and drinking, water there is 
 in the river, and food the earth gives; he who 
 will may plant and eat. From us they shall 
 not have one blade of grass. So let it be." 
 
 This is quaint reading, but must have been 
 very serious living, I should think. As to 
 the priests' singing and continuing to sing 
 while the poor Indian was burning, it makes 
 me think, with a shudder, of one morning in 
 Santa Marta, before I came up here. I was 
 calling on Mrs. Anson, who lives close to 
 the cuartel or barracks, when suddenly there
 
 52 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 was a great flourish of trumpets, and then 
 loud, crashing music by the military band. If 
 it had been in Bogota I should have thought 
 that the liberals had won a victory, for the 
 Government always sent up consolation fire 
 works, and made a great show of music and 
 parades whenever they had been defeated. 
 But in Santa Marta I was puzzled. Mrs. 
 Anson listened attentively, then, 
 
 "Do you know what that means?" she 
 asked, with a queer expression on her face, 
 a little frightened and a great deal indig 
 nant. 
 
 "No," I answered, "What?" 
 
 " They are whipping some soldiers in 
 there " pointing to the cuartel " and the 
 music is to drown their cries. Whenever 
 that tune is played we understand what is go 
 ing on ! " 
 
 Sunday evening Mrs. Martin usually tells 
 Bible stories to the children in their own 
 room. To-night, for some reason, Alva 
 elected to stay in the sala with me. When I 
 first came, the children spoke only Spanish, 
 though they understand English when they 
 hear it. I have been trying to encourage 
 them to use their mother tongue, and the re-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 53 
 
 suit is that in their conversations with me 
 the mixture of languages is sometimes very 
 funny. 
 
 " Yo soy baby; porqtie tu no sing?" (I 
 am a baby; why don't you sing to me?) be 
 gan Alva, to-night, after she had climbed into 
 my lap, as I sat in a big chair in front of the 
 open fire. The seven-year-old " baby " is 
 very fond of being petted and sung to. 
 
 So I began with " Rock-a-bye, Baby," 
 which she particularly fancies, especially, 
 
 " And down will come Baby, cradle and 
 all." 
 
 When I had finished, 
 
 " Ahora, los -pigitos" (Now the little pigs) 
 she demanded. 
 
 I knew what that meant, so, taking her 
 hand, I began in the time-honored way, bend 
 ing down her thumb, and saying, 
 
 " This little pig went to market," 
 Then the forefinger, 
 
 ' This little pig stayed home," 
 But here I was interrupted. 
 
 "En espanol" (In Spanish) said my Baby. 
 
 Fancy " This little pig went to market," 
 in Spanish ! However, I rushed in, as usual, 
 and began a literal translation. I think there
 
 54 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 were chuckles from Don Pepe, smoking out 
 on the corridor. 
 
 Este marranito se fue al mercado, 
 
 Este marranito quedo en casa, 
 
 Este marranito tenia roast beef, 
 
 Este marranito no tenia nada, 
 Este marranito grit 6, " Wee ! wee ! wee ! " 
 
 " A si gritan los pigitos? " (Is that the way 
 pigs cry?) asked Alva, as I finished. 
 
 " Why, yes 1 ," I told her. " Haven't you 
 ever heard the little pigs squealing?" 
 
 "Si (yes), but no in English. Aqm 
 gritan en espafiol." (Here they cry in Span 
 ish). 
 
 In the pause that followed my laugh, her 
 attention was caught by something her mother 
 was saying to the other children, in the ad 
 joining room, and she announced, suddenly, 
 
 " Yo no quiero die." (I don't want to 
 die.) 
 
 "Why do you say that, little one?" I 
 asked, holding her close. " You're not go 
 ing to die just yet, I hope." 
 
 "But sometime?" she persisted. 
 
 "Why, yes; sometime." 
 
 "Y donde voy yo, puesf " (and where 
 shall I go, then?)
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 55 
 
 " To the cielo," (heaven) I told her. 
 
 "Not in the ground, like Fido?" (Fido 
 was a pet dog who died.) 
 
 " Your body will go into the ground," I 
 tried to explain; "but the part of you that 
 thinks and feels and talks will come out of 
 your body and go up to the cielo." 
 
 She considered this, and then asked, 
 
 " And shall I still be little Alva? " 
 
 I told her " Yes," because I think so. 
 Perhaps I ought to have said, Quien sabef 
 
 Her next question was, 
 
 ' Where are your papa and your mama? " 
 
 " In the cielo." 
 
 " Are there many people in the cielo? " 
 
 " Oh, yes; a great, great many." 
 
 " Who takes care of them? " 
 
 "Why Dios (God) takes care of them, 
 dear." 
 
 Her notions of being taken care of relate 
 chiefly to shelter, food and raiment, and she 
 said, next, 
 
 ' Where does Dios get enough houses, and 
 things for them all to eat, and dresses for 
 them?" 
 
 I felt unequal to unfolding the conception 
 of an immaterial cielo } so I said, only,
 
 56 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 " Oh, you know Dios can do anything. 
 He has plenty of everything that he wants to 
 give to the people." 
 
 " He must be very rich," she commented, 
 thoughtfully. Then followed a deduction, 
 logical, inevitable. In her world there is one 
 thing and one thing only that makes for 
 wealth. 
 
 " Entonces tendra montones de cafe! " 
 (Then He must have mountains of coffee!) 
 
 Wednesday, 2jth. 
 
 Who would have supposed that a day as 
 quiet and peaceful as Sunday would have been 
 followed by one as exciting and turbulent as 
 Monday was? 
 
 I was teaching Carmelita in my room. I 
 had asked her to give me the plural of ox, 
 and she had said " Bulls," with entire con 
 viction. I am afraid I made rather a botch 
 of my correction ; at any rate, her attention 
 wandered, and she began to look out of the 
 window, and to be interested in what was go 
 ing on por afuera. 
 
 "Carmelita," I said, reprovingly; "never 
 mind what they are doing outside. Attend 
 to what I am trying to explain to you."
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 57 
 
 Just then we heard a confused noise as of 
 children crying, and a servant ran past the 
 window. 
 
 " Something is the matter!" exclaimed 
 Carmelita, and started up from her chair. 
 
 I supposed that Willie had fallen off the 
 corridor, or that Clara had stepped on a nail, 
 or that Alva had burned her hand making a 
 sancocho. These are all incidents of our 
 daily life, and always produce excitement; 
 but I saw no reason why the disturbance 
 should interrupt Carmelita's lesson. 
 
 " Never mind," I said, again, primly, and 
 in my most disciplinary tone. ' It does not 
 matter what is happening. While I am 
 
 teaching you, even if the house is on fire, you 
 
 
 At that instant Mrs. Martin simply flew 
 into the room. 
 
 " The kitchen is on fire ! " she panted. 
 " Oh, come! Come, quick! " 
 
 We ran, teacher and taught, out of the 
 door, into a scene of wildest excitement and 
 confusion. 
 
 The kitchen, storeroom and servants' 
 rooms are detached from the main house, but 
 are yet so near that a fire in one means immi-
 
 58 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 nent danger to the other. Although Mrs. 
 Martin had called us on the instant, by the 
 time I got outside, the kitchen roof was a 
 sheet of flame. The roof is of palm thatch, 
 like that of the main house, and it was burn 
 ing like an autumn bonfire of dead leaves. 
 
 With presence of mind, the first thing Mrs. 
 Martin did was to give the alarm by having 
 the gong sounded the old hoe blade, ham 
 mered with a stone. This is done only at 
 noon and at night, for the men to stop work, 
 so that at ten o'clock in the morning its un 
 timely clamor meant something seriously out 
 of the ordinary. In an incredibly short time 
 Mr. Martin came tearing up the hill on a 
 mule, and following him, running, came 
 mozos and mozos. There is only one ladder, 
 and Mrs. Martin and I had it up by the time 
 the men got to us. They swarmed onto the 
 roof, and began hacking at the thatch with 
 their machetes, and throwing burning bundles 
 of palm down to the ground. We women 
 scattered these, pouring on water and stamp 
 ing out the fire. In less than an hour the 
 danger was over. The kitchen was without 
 a roof; of course, some things had been 
 broken, and household furnishings, hastily
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 59 
 
 carried out, lay in confusion all over the place. 
 But that was all. The fire had not been al 
 lowed to spread, and even the despensa 
 (storeroom) and servants' rooms were un 
 touched. That very afternoon men with 
 mules went into the woods, and cut new poles 
 for the framework of the roof and great 
 bundles of palm for thatch, and to-night 
 everything is finished and in order again. 
 
 There were no lessons yesterday or this 
 morning, for we have all been rather upset, 
 and busy putting things to rights. There 
 has been no occasion, therefore, again to re 
 buke Carmelita for inattention. 
 
 One other thing happened Monday morn 
 ing: in the midst of the fire a new personality 
 came into my life. Entered El Sefior Don 
 Roberto Alvarez. 
 
 I have said that, as the thatch was cut 
 away from the roof, it was thrown to the 
 ground in great, burning masses; and that 
 these were instantly seized upon by us below, 
 broken up, scattered and extinguished. I 
 had an old broom handle for a thresher, and 
 with it I laid about me vigorously per 
 chance too vigorously.
 
 For, suddenly, there was a presence at my 
 elbow, and a voice saying to me, impera 
 tively, 
 
 '' Don't throw that burning stuff down the 
 bank ! The fern's as dry as tinder, and you'll 
 start another fire if you don't mind! " 
 
 I looked up and saw two intense brown 
 eyes, and a hand stretched out to take my 
 broom handle away from me, as from one 
 unfit to be trusted with it another moment. 
 The owner of the eyes and the hand was 
 a man whom I had never seen before, nor 
 even heard of; and even yet, though I now 
 know who he is, I do not know how he 
 got there. I suppose he must have been 
 riding near, have heard our alarm, or seen 
 the smoke, and come quickly to our as 
 sistance. Anyway there he was, giving me 
 orders in an English more English than an 
 English English, but in a voice which I in 
 stantly knew had never been born in Eng 
 land. 
 
 Mrs. Martin has since told me everything. 
 El Senor Don Roberto Alvarez was born in 
 Bogota. When he was five years old, polit 
 ical differences of opinion were the cause of 
 his father's taking the whole family to Paris,
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 61 
 
 where they are to this day. In the mean 
 time, however, Don Roberto was educated 
 mostly in Devon hence his English. Three 
 years ago he came back to his native land, 
 unaccompanied, except by a letter of intro 
 duction from his father to the father's old 
 friend, the owner of " Vista Linda," an 
 hacienda below us in this valley. There 
 Don Roberto was taken on at first as a work 
 ing pupil with no salary, and then, as he 
 began to know coffee, as assistant with small 
 salary. Now he is manager, drawing some 
 thing like $100 a month. In time, either 
 his father will buy " Vista Linda," which 
 is for sale, or Don Roberto will denounce 
 land further on up the valley, and begin to 
 make a new plantation for himself. 
 
 In the meantime, he is our neighbor as 
 neighborhood goes in the Sierra Nevadas 
 and though I do not quite like being told 
 that I can not be trusted with an old broom 
 handle, yet I have always admired intense 
 brown eyes, and I find, now, that a certain 
 un-English rolling of the " r " in Seriorita 
 may be very attractive.
 
 'July 6th. 
 
 WE have " been down " Mr. and 
 Mrs. Martin, Don Roberto and I. 
 We came up yesterday. 
 Last Monday morning, in the midst of 
 lessons, La Nina Eva appeared at the door, 
 with a note in her hand. 
 
 ' This has just come," she said, gayly 
 waving the paper. " It is from Mrs. Anson, 
 and we are invited to spend the Fourth in 
 Santa Marta." 
 
 (Mrs. Anson is the wife of that Mr. 
 Anson who said "Good Lord!" when I 
 told him I had come to this part of the world 
 for pleasure.) 
 
 "Are we going?" I asked, breathlessly. 
 
 " Of course we are going," paid Mrs. 
 
 Martin. " You, and Mr. Martin and I " 
 
 At that moment the tramping of a mule's 
 
 hoofs was heard, as someone rode up to 
 
 the corridor. We looked out, and there was 
 
 Don Roberto. 
 
 62
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 63 
 
 " I can't stop a moment," he called to us. 
 Then he dismounted, came into the sala, and 
 stayed three-quarters of an hour. 
 
 " Of course you're all going down to the 
 Ansons' paranda," he began the moment we 
 were seated. 
 
 " We have just this moment had Mrs. 
 Anson's note," answered Mrs. Martin, " but 
 we have already decided to accept. Are you 
 going? " This last was superfluous, for go 
 was written all over him. 
 
 " Well, rather! " he said. " That's what 
 I came up about. Can't we all go down 
 together? What time will you start?" 
 
 " Oh, you know Mr. Martin," laughed 
 Mr. Martin's wife. " If he has his way, 
 we'll be off by moonlight. He likes to get 
 down before it's hot, and before the rain 
 begins." 
 
 As a matter of fact it was seven the next 
 morning when we rode away from the house. 
 We left Don Pepe in charge of the finca, 
 and domestic matters with Juana and Andrea 
 two women who have been the children's 
 nurses and are devoted to them. Don Ro 
 berto appeared for coffee at half past six. 
 As we had to pass " Vista Linda " on the
 
 64 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 way down the valley he might have waited 
 to join us at his own front door, but he did 
 not, so there were four of us, riding single 
 file, besides an arriero on foot, driving the 
 cargo mule with our luggage. 
 
 We went down in less than five hours, and 
 we did not get wet, so one of Mr. Martin's 
 desires was fulfilled; but as for the other, 
 by the time we reached the plain the sun was 
 scorching. We crossed the river (I am al 
 ways so relieved when I get safely over a 
 river, for once I heard of a mule that lay 
 down and rolled, in the middle of a stream, 
 perfectly regardless of the rider on its back), 
 went on for an hour or more under the dark 
 green of the mango trees, and, about noon, 
 rode into Santa Marta. It had been nearly 
 a month since I had left that town to come 
 up into the woods, and as, when I first went 
 there from Bogota and Barranquilla, the 
 place seemed about as large as a toy village, 
 I was immensely surprised, on Tuesday, to 
 find it looking like a metropolis. 
 
 It really ought not to be small, for cer 
 tainly it is not young. I wonder if places 
 are ever sensitive about their age. I am so 
 fond of Santa Marta, and it has always been
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 65 
 
 so nice to me, that I should hate to hurt 
 its feelings by any remarks concerning the 
 number of seasons I mean rainy and dry 
 seasons that it has been before the public. 
 Such things, however, are only matters of 
 comparison, and I remember, now, that when 
 I spoke of the antiquity of Santa Marta to 
 one of the officers of the " Adirondack " 
 of course a German he said, "Himmel! 
 Fraiilein, that is not old ! " At any rate, it 
 is said to be the oldest existing town in the 
 Western Hemisphere, founded by the Span 
 iards in 1525. It was already fifty years old, 
 when as Kingsley tells us, in " Westward 
 Ho!" the Bishop of Cartagena sat in the 
 cabin of his great galleon, sipping wine cooled 
 " in a pail of ice from the Horqueta," and 
 gazing out on " the bay of Santa Marta, 
 rippling before the land breeze, one sheet of 
 living flame." " Golden tropic sea," de 
 scribes Kingsley; "and the golden tropic 
 evenings, by the shore of New Granada, in 
 the golden Spanish Main." It is very like 
 that, as one sits on the Ansons' balcony, look 
 ing off on the water, the Morro, and (on a 
 curve of the shore) the ruins of Drake's 
 Fort.
 
 66 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 The Ansons live in a perfectly enormous 
 house that was once a monastery. The patio 
 is all arcaded, and as we rode into it, on 
 Tuesday, and I saw it again, after a month, 
 it seemed to me that it looked larger and 
 quainter and more Ferdinand-and-Isabella- 
 like than ever. 
 
 We were the last to arrive of the house 
 party. Think of a house party in Santa 
 Marta ! If the old monks have been look 
 ing down on their monastery, lately, they 
 must have been amazed; and, as I dare say 
 monks are not very different from other per 
 sons, I shouldn't wonder a bit if they have 
 been rather envious as well. 
 
 In the first place, there were Mr. and Mrs. 
 Anson and Baby the last being Mr. An- 
 son's sister, aged eighteen years, not 
 months. The Ansons are Americans, but I 
 believe they lived for a time in Canada; 
 anyway, somehow or other Baby was edu 
 cated in a convent in Montreal, and the result 
 is the most delectable combination of Amer 
 ican girl and French novice that one could 
 wish to see. Why Don Roberto is not in 
 love with Baby is more than I can under 
 stand. Of course it may be that he is, but
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 67 
 
 in that case I should not think he would 
 I mean, if he is, one would suppose that he 
 would pay her more attention. Perhaps 
 it is because young Mr. Hunter does not give 
 him a chance; yet Don Roberto seems to be 
 a man who would not ask to have chances 
 given to him, but would rather say, like 
 Napoleon, "Opportunities? I make oppor 
 tunities!" Mr. Hunter is another one of 
 our neighbors up here in the mountains; that 
 is, he is " learning coffee " on a plantation 
 (" La Ventura ") in the next valley to ours. 
 The Ansons have a little place a country 
 house, so to speak in the same valley, not 
 more than half an hour by mule from " La 
 Ventura," and they are up there a great deal 
 of the time. Harry Hunter is an English 
 man (but not the one who called here the 
 other day ! ) , and he is so shy and so hand 
 some that I really do not know how Baby 
 has the heart to tease him as she does. The 
 American girl part of her goes to such 
 lengths, sometimes, that the Britisher's head 
 tells him he ought to disapprove of her. 
 Then the demure little novice comes to the 
 fore, and it is not an English head, but just 
 a man's heart that is at all concerned in the
 
 68 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 matter. I am perfectly sure he tells himself 
 dozens of times that she is too flippant, too 
 independent, too in short, too American. 
 Then, more dozens of times, he does not 
 analyse her at all, but simply feels that she 
 is the sweetest girl, American or English, 
 that he will ever know. And, really, she is 
 not flippant at all, and not so very independ 
 ent, if he only knew it. I am not sure 
 whether she cares for him or not, but as she 
 is so young I am afraid his chances, for the 
 present at least, are not very good. Amer 
 ican girls seldom make their life's decision 
 at eighteen; they are usually having so good 
 a time at that age that they want to feel 
 that they are free to keep on having good 
 times for a number of years yet. 
 
 Well but I was naming the house party. 
 We were, then, Mr. and Mrs. Anson, Baby, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Martin and governess (me, 
 Constance Parnell), Mr. and Mrs. Campbell 
 (Manager and Mrs. Manager of " La Ven 
 tura"), Don Roberto, Harry Hunter, Mr. 
 Manners the disagreeable Englishman 
 only, of course, he is not always disagreeable 
 and one more, to whom I am going to 
 give several lines in a few moments. All
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 69 
 
 these were staying in the house. Others of 
 the small Santa Marta foreign colony, as, 
 for instance, El Serior and La Sefiora Consul; 
 Mr. and Mrs. British Consul; Mr. Cunning 
 ham, of the United Fruit Company, and so 
 on, were more or less interested in Fourth 
 of July, as the case might be. 
 
 As for the " One More " of our house 
 party of all persons in the world, it was 
 Kent Winthrop ! 
 
 It was the very afternoon of our arrival 
 in Santa Marta that the " Adirondack " 
 came in. We could see the steamer when 
 it was still far outside the Morro, and when 
 it came to anchor at the dock, we were all 
 there to meet it, to get our mail. The gang 
 plank was thrown out, the few passengers 
 went down it as we went up, and there, in 
 the middle, Kent and I came face to face, 
 both too surprised to speak. I must do 
 him the justice to admit that he has not fol 
 lowed me here to South America ; he was 
 quite as honestly amazed as I was. He is 
 always honest. I will admit that, also. 
 
 It was Mr. Anson who said the first word. 
 
 " Why, hello, Winthrop ! " he exclaimed. 
 " I thought you weren't coming till the next
 
 70 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 steamer. Awfully glad to see you, just the 
 same. Just wait till we get the mail, and 
 we'll go back to the house. This is my 
 wife, whom you've never met. And this is 
 Miss Parnell Oh --!" 
 
 Kent and I interrupted him by finding our 
 tongues, and exclaiming, simultaneously, 
 
 "Are you here?" 
 
 It seemed to me the most natural thing in 
 the world that I was there, although of course 
 I can realize that it was the last place in 
 the world in which Kent would have expected 
 to see me. The strange part of it, to me, 
 was his presence in Santa Marta, though now 
 that it has been explained, I know that he 
 really had much more reason to be there 
 than I had. He, at least, did not come for 
 pleasure, and Mr. Anson did not say " Good 
 Lord!" to him. Mr. Anson, in fact, was 
 the cause of Kent's being there. How queer 
 it is that those two men were at college 
 together, and that I should have known one 
 of them so well, and never have heard of the 
 other till I came to Santa Marta, two months 
 ago. It seems that they have written to each 
 other, now and again, and that, through Mr. 
 Anson, Kent has been interested in Coffee
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 71 
 
 much longer than I have. And now he 
 has come down here to look into the matter 
 for himself, and if he is satisfied, he is going 
 to buy land and begin a plantation ! 
 
 As we walked back to the house from the 
 steamer, Kent said to me : 
 
 'When did you leave Europe?" 
 
 " A year and a half ago," I told him. 
 
 "A year and a half ago!" he repeated; 
 " Then how long were you there? " 
 
 " Less than six months." 
 
 Here an Expression came into his eyes. I 
 cannot describe it; I can only write it with 
 a capital E. 
 
 "Why?" he questioned, "didn't you 
 wasn't it all that you expected? " 
 
 " Oh, quite," I assured him, hastily. " But 
 I had a good opportunity to come to South 
 America, and I thought I could see Europe 
 another time, and so I went to Bogota." 
 
 1 You have been in South America for 
 over a year, then." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And now?" 
 
 " Now I am a governess, on a coffee plan 
 tation, up in the mountains." 
 
 He looked at me, without speaking, for
 
 72 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 what seemed minutes and minutes. Then 
 that appears to be the general impression that 
 I make on the men whom I meet he said, 
 exactly as Mr. Anson had done, 
 
 "Good Lord!" 
 
 I wonder if I am too fond of travel. I 
 asked Don Roberto, that evening, as we sat 
 on the deck of the " Adirondack," happen 
 ing to be a little apart by ourselves. 
 
 " Certainly not," he reassured me, warmly. 
 'That is one thing that makes you so differ 
 ent from most women." (I had not known 
 that he thought me different from most 
 women; that is, I had not been sure.) 
 'Travel is broadening. I like it, myself, 
 better than almost anything else in the world. 
 Fancy," he said, " if you hadn't cared for 
 travel, you would not be here now ! " 
 
 How very expressive brown eyes are I 
 Kent's are grey. 
 
 Wednesday Was the Fourth. The An- 
 sons had planned a picnic to San Pedro, 
 where is the house in which Bolivar died. 
 It is the place to which El Serior Consul 
 drove me the day that he suggested my go 
 ing to the mountains as governess, never 
 thinking that I should take him seriously.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 73 
 
 This time almost all of our party of 
 twenty rode mules. We started quite early 
 in the morning, had a gay picnic lunch, with 
 toasts and speeches, and then some one sug 
 gested riding on to Wasca. Kent was, of 
 course, the only one of us to whom an In 
 dian village was not an old story, for though 
 I had never seen Wasca before, I had seen 
 innumerable mud huts between the coast and 
 Bogota. But El Serior Consul said there 
 might be some wild-pigeon shooting; Kent 
 was eager to go; I wanted to see the ruins of 
 the old Spanish Church that I had heard of, 
 and, in the end, every one went. 
 
 The church was really worth while, though 
 there is so little left of it now. The roof 
 is gone, except in one corner, where the altar 
 was, and the walls are in ruins. It was 
 over in the altar corner that I found, lying 
 on the ground, nearly covered by debris, some 
 pieces of old carved wood. I picked up one 
 block, about eight inches square, and an 
 nounced that I was going to take it away 
 with me. 
 
 "Indeed you are not!" declared El 
 Serior Consul. ' These people wouldn't al 
 low it for one moment."
 
 74 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 "What people?" I asked. "Do you 
 mean these savages?" I waved my hand 
 to include the two rows of huts, and the half 
 naked population. ' You can't mean that 
 they value antiques and pieces of old carv- 
 ing!" 
 
 " Well, no," admitted El Senor Consul, 
 smiling; "not as antiques and pieces of 
 old carving. But they're superstitious to the 
 last degree, and they would expect the 
 heavens to fall on them if they allowed any 
 one to carry off a splinter of what was once 
 a church. You are not the first person who 
 has wanted the stuff," he informed me. 
 'The consul from Barranquilla came over 
 here to see the church, and he went simply 
 wild over these carvings. He offered to buy 
 the whole lot, but the people wouldn't hear 
 of it. They certainly won't let you have 
 any." 
 
 This seemed to me absurd. If there were 
 any sacrilege about the matter, it was in leav 
 ing those delightful old bits lying there on 
 the ground the floor of the church is all 
 gone in the midst of every kind of rub 
 bish, to become worm-eaten and broken, and 
 doing no one a particle of good. If I took
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 75 
 
 one of the pieces, it would at least be kept, 
 for the future, where it would be preserved 
 and appreciated. 
 
 " They are not going to be asked," I said, 
 replying to El Serior Consul's last remark. 
 Then I calmly picked up my block and 
 walked with it down the one street, in full 
 view of the entire population, and no one said 
 as much as Caramba! The carving is now 
 here, on the mantel shelf, in our sola. 
 
 I have said that the people of Wasca are 
 half-naked savages. Yet in one of the huts, 
 no different from the others, there is living 
 an educated white man. We were going 
 away from the church, towards our mules, 
 Mr. Anson and I walking together, when 
 a man, who, I am perfectly sure, was born 
 a gentleman, came to the doorway of one of 
 the mud houses, and spoke to Mr. Anson 
 in English. Mr. Anson stopped, and nat 
 urally, so did I. At first, I supposed that 
 this man, an Anglo-Saxon, and by every 
 tone of his voice a gentleman, was someone 
 who was passing through Wasca, just as we 
 were. Then I don't quite know how I 
 realized that he was at home there. There 
 is only one room in each of those huts, and
 
 76 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 from where we stood, in the doorway, I 
 could not help seeing the whole interior of 
 the house. An Indian girl was cooking some 
 thing over the stone fire-place in the corner; 
 on the mud floor, a little child about two 
 years old sat playing with a gourd drinking 
 cup; a table in the middle of the room held 
 some papers and a book or two; except 
 for these last, it was a native's home, pure 
 and simple. The situation told its own 
 story. 
 
 I walked on, but almost immediately Mr. 
 Anson overtook me. For a moment or two 
 neither of us spoke. 
 
 " Well," he said presently, looking at me 
 with a smile; "are you shocked, Miss Par- 
 nell? One has to get used to that sort of 
 thing down here, you know." 
 
 " No ; " I shook my head. " I don't think 
 ' shocked ' is what I am feeling." 
 
 "What, then?" he queried. "You are 
 feeling something rather profoundly, I gather 
 from your face." 
 
 " I was thinking," I said, " thinking 
 that it is such a pity! " 
 
 " Oh ! " responded Mr. Anson, in a tone 
 that asked for further information.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 77 
 
 " I am sure he feels it himself," I went 
 on, following my own thoughts. 
 
 "Feels what?" 
 
 " Didn't I hear him ask you for new mag 
 azines? " 
 
 " Very likely. He's always keen about 
 them. What then? " 
 
 " There were some books on the table, 
 too." 
 
 Mr. Anson made a gesture as of one be 
 fogged. " My dear Miss Parnell," he ap 
 pealed, " what are you getting at? " 
 
 " An educated man," I explained, " a 
 gentleman living like that - 
 
 Mr. Anson shrugged his shoulders. " It 
 is rather a throwing away of good material," 
 he owned. " The man has deteriorated 
 awfully in three years. I don't know what 
 it is about this place," he declared, " that 
 seems to drag young men into that sort of 
 thing. I suppose most of 'em can't afford 
 a wife, so they take what they can have. 
 They don't usually go into it quite as deep 
 as this chap, though. As a rule it's pour 
 passer le temps, and then they go home and 
 get married." 
 
 "Fancy marrying a man like that!" I
 
 78 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 uttered on the impulse of the moment; then 
 instantly wished I had kept silence. 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Mr. Anson, just as 
 I knew he would. u What do you say, Miss 
 Parnell?" 
 
 " I am sorry I said anything," I returned, 
 vexedly. " I couldn't possibly make you un 
 derstand." 
 
 " Oh, I say ! " he expostulated. " Don't 
 say that. Put it as simply as you can, and 
 I'll try to follow you." 
 
 I knew he was smiling, inside, but I had 
 foolishly commenced, and there was nothing 
 but to follow up my indiscretion. 
 
 ; ' Well suppose," I said, " suppose a 
 man, with this man's experience, does go 
 home, as you say, and get married. How 
 do you think he feels when the first baby 
 comes to him and his wife? " 
 
 " How does he feel ? " repeated Mr. An 
 son, evidently surprised. " Why, I don't 
 know. Just the way any other man feels, 
 I suppose." 
 
 "How can he?" I contested. "Oh, I 
 know what you men say. That this sort 
 of thing is only an incident; that a man 
 doesn't love an Indian girl; that it is a differ-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 79 
 
 ent sort of feeling, altogether. That when 
 he, afterward, marries a girl in his own class, 
 he truly cares for her, just as if the Indian 
 girl had never existed. Perhaps he does, 
 but" 
 
 "But what?" insisted Mr. Anson, as I 
 hesitated. 
 
 " Well," I said, " it seems to me that such 
 a man defrauds his wife of something that 
 every woman has a right to claim. When 
 their baby comes he can't feel about it as she 
 does. It doesn't mean to him what it does 
 to her. He can't sympathise with her in 
 the feeling of awe and solemnity that must 
 come with the first realization of parentage. 
 How could he? He has been through it all 
 before. He has already held his first child 
 in his arms. You know it can never be the 
 same again." 
 
 I don't know what Mr. Anson would have 
 said; I was glad there was no opportunity 
 for him to say anything. For, luckily, we 
 came to the mules at that moment, and Don 
 Roberto hurried forward and helped me to 
 mount. 
 
 We went on from Wasca towards the 
 electric light plant. Mud huts and electric
 
 80 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 light ! How the white man carries his civ 
 ilisation about with him. Near the plant 
 El Senor Consul shot the first iguana I ever 
 saw, and of all the nightmare-ish creatures! 
 It was in a tree, and though mortally 
 wounded by the shot, it had life enough, as 
 it fell, to clutch at a branch and hang there 
 for several minutes before it dropped into 
 the little stream below. They say people 
 eat those things. For my part, " I'd rather 
 let starvation wipe me slowly out o' sight." 
 In the cool of the late afternoon we rode 
 back to " town," and afterward we were all 
 entertained at dinner at the British Consulate, 
 where the English and the American flags 
 were intertwined. In the evening we went 
 on board the " Adirondack " and there were 
 fireworks, but I could not realize that we 
 were celebrating the Fourth of July. The 
 search-light of the steamer swept over Santa 
 Marta, lingered on the old Spanish Cathe 
 dral, turned the white houses into glittering 
 palaces, and the surrounding cocoanut palms 
 into waving, shadowy plumes. Then the 
 brilliance was thrown over the bay, the 
 Morro, and the ruins of the fort; and, far 
 from caring anything, at that moment, for
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 81, 
 
 the Star Spangled Banner, I sat dreaming 
 myself back over three hundred years, to 
 the days of the Conquistadores their treas 
 ure and their galleons. " That, after all, 
 is the great thing about travelling," says 
 Maud Howe; "you visit not only different 
 countries, but different ages." 
 
 I remembered this, and it was then that 
 I questioned Don Roberto as to my, perhaps, 
 over-fondness for seeing the world. He an 
 swered as I have said, and then, as if he had 
 felt my thoughts of the moment before, he 
 began to talk of the old Spaniards, and to 
 tell me stories of their treasure. 
 
 ' You know," he reminded me, " those old 
 chaps had to leave this country in a great 
 hurry, but undoubtedly they expected to re 
 turn. They buried or hid their loot, and after 
 all, they never came back for it. It's here yet, 
 lots of it. Have you heard of the man who 
 excited so much comment in Santa Marta, 
 by his coming and his going, a year or so 
 ago?" 
 
 " No," I said. " I've been told quantities 
 of treasure stories, especially in the interior 
 Honda is full of them but I never 
 heard that one."
 
 82 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 " It's really nothing definite. It was just 
 after I came back here, from England. A 
 man a Spaniard the real thing 
 landed here one day from Barranquilla, hav 
 ing come by the Royal Mail. He brought 
 two big trunks with him, and the men who 
 handled the trunks say they were empty. 
 Well, he went to the hotel and took a room, 
 and stayed in it a whole day, looking at some 
 papers and making drawings at least so 
 the muchachas (maids) say. Then he got 
 a mule cart, put his two empty trunks on 
 it, and went off, somewhere, entirely alone. 
 He was gone a day and a night. He came 
 back with his trunks, and this time two men 
 apiece could hardly lift them. He left for 
 Baranquilla by the next boat, trunks of 
 course with him, and that was the last that 
 was ever heard of him." 
 
 "But what was in the trunks?" I cried, 
 much excited. 
 
 " Quicn sabef But everyone here be 
 lieves that the man was a descendant of one 
 of the Conquistador es, and that he had the 
 key to some treasure hidden by his ancestors. 
 They say he just came with his papers, lo-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 83 
 
 cated the secret spot, and then sailed off 
 with the gold." 
 
 " Do you think so? " I asked him. 
 
 " Do you care what I think? " questioned 
 Don Roberto. 
 
 The next morning, that is, yesterday morn 
 ing, we left Santa Marta at six o'clock, and 
 were back here at El Cafetel for breakfast. 
 The trip up is much pleasanter than the one 
 going down, because coming this way the air 
 grows fresher and fresher, and the latter 
 part of the journey, when one is apt to be 
 tired, is taken through the crisp coolness of 
 the mountains. Who would be in New 
 York, hanging onto the strap of a crowded 
 cable car, who could have a mule to himself, 
 in the Sierra Nevadas? 
 
 Kent, of course, is still with the Ansons. 
 I suppose he will stay there until he decides 
 whether or not to buy land. If I were a 
 man, I should like to have affairs that are 
 connected with land. Up to this, I have 
 wanted to be an ambassador at some im 
 portant foreign court, but now I know that 
 I should prefer the life of an agriculturist.
 
 84 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 Mr. Martin laughed when I said this last 
 night at dinner, and asked me why I didn't 
 go in for market gardening. 
 
 " I suppose I might have a garden here," 
 I said, " but where is the market? " 
 
 " Why, Santa Marta," returned Mr. Mar 
 tin, instantly. " I never knew a place more 
 in need of fresh vegetables." 
 
 It is true that I have never seen a blade 
 or a leaf of one there, and that Mrs. Anson 
 and the other foreign housekeepers are con 
 stantly bewailing the impossibility of escape 
 from tinned peas and asparagus. 
 
 "Do you really mean it?" I demanded 
 of Mr. Martin. " I think it would be the 
 most interesting thing I ever heard of." 
 
 " Well, as to that," demurred the man of 
 ! experience, " I have my doubts. It is hard 
 work, you know. Isn't it? " he appealed to 
 Mrs. Martin. 
 
 " It is hard work," conceded La Nina 
 Eva, reluctantly. (Never was a woman less 
 given to wet-blanketing one's propositions.) 
 " But I like it," she added, immediately; 
 " and quien sabe whether Miss Parnell 
 wouldn't find it interesting? Try it and see," 
 she advised, turning to me.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 85 
 
 " Where could I have my garden? " I then 
 wanted to know. Already I was full of en 
 thusiasm. 
 
 " Down by the new house. We'll be there 
 so soon now, that it wouldn't be worth while 
 to start anything up here. We'll go to-mor 
 row and pick out a place." Mrs. Martin 
 was as eager as I about it, while Mr. Martin 
 laughed at us both and said that he gave 
 me until the first time I got thoroughly wet 
 to change my mind. 
 
 " I shall work while the sun shines," I 
 declared, piously. 
 
 " Then you'll be eaten alive by -plaga" he 
 retorted. 
 
 Plaga is a sort of gnat whose sting makes 
 little red spots all over one's hands, or wher 
 ever it bites. We are very little troubled 
 by it up here, but further down it is a pest, 
 and even at this altitude it is bad where there 
 is much vegetation. 
 
 But plaga or no plaga, wet or dry, I in 
 tend to have a garden. Mrs. Martin and I, 
 and all the children went down this afternoon 
 and picked out the ground, just below the 
 new house, where I can get to it in two min 
 utes after we move. I am writing by this
 
 86 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 mail to New Orleans for seeds, and until they 
 come, Mrs. Martin is going to let me borrow 
 from her. 
 
 July l$th. 
 
 Mr. Martin went to Santa Marta two days 
 ago, and on his return, he brought Mr. An- 
 son with him. When I saw Mr. Anson I 
 rather looked for Kent, also; but the latter, 
 it seems, has gone to Barranquilla for a short 
 time, on business. 
 
 Our guest stayed only a few hours, as he 
 was going to spend the night on another 
 plantation; but before he left he admitted 
 that, for once, something entertaining has 
 occurred in the dull little town on the coast. 
 Both he and Mr. Martin were full of the 
 story when they rode up to the house yes 
 terday just at noon, and they spent the 
 greater part of the breakfast hour in telling 
 it, with laughter and shouts of reminiscence, 
 to Mrs. Martin and me. 
 
 " We had been playing billiards all the 
 evening," Mr. Martin said, " until about 
 eleven o'clock, when we went to bed. I'd 
 been asleep about an hour when I woke up, 
 suddenly, and heard loud voices out in the 
 street."
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 87 
 
 " Loud! Rather! " emphasized Mr. An- 
 son. ' They would have wakened the 
 dead!" 
 
 " Well, I jumped up and went out onto 
 the balcony to see what the matter was, and 
 an instant later Anson hurried out after me, 
 from h ; ": room." 
 
 '' In my pajamas," supplied Mr. Anson, 
 smiling broadly. 
 
 " Both of us in our pajamas," supple 
 mented Mr. Martin, grinning. 
 
 " We leaned over the railing of the bal 
 cony," Mr. Martin went on; "and down 
 there in the street were four men three 
 patrols, and one of the German officers from 
 the steamer. Those little boy soldiers had 
 the officer by the arm, and they were trying 
 to drag him over to the barracks, while he 
 was trying his best to get away. The Ger 
 man evidently didn't know a word of Span 
 ish, and certainly the patrols didn't know 
 any German or English, yet they were hurl 
 ing defiance at one another at the top of their 
 lungs." 
 
 " They were too excited to notice us," Mr. 
 Anson chuckled, " till I called down to them, 
 'I -ay! What's the trouble?' Then they
 
 88 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 looked up, and what absurd thing was it 
 the big Dutchman said to us, Martin? " 
 
 ' For God's sake, can't you make these 
 savages understand who I am?' 
 
 "Oh, yes; exactly. And you said, 'Cer 
 tainly,' as affably as if he'd asked you for a 
 .match ! 
 
 ' Well, we called down to the patrols, 
 'Hi, there! Your prisoner's a German 
 officer, and you'd better be careful how you 
 interfere with him.' And they sputtered 
 back that they didn't care who he was; that 
 he ought not to be in the streets at that time 
 of night without a passport." 
 
 " Wasn't it then that Hunter and Cunning 
 ham came out? " interrupted Mr. Martin. 
 
 "Exactly," said Mr. Anson. "They 
 came out on their balcony next door, and 
 called out to us, ' What's the row ? ' 
 
 " We began to tell them, but as soon as 
 the German officer saw them, he broke in, 
 praying them to do something for him in 
 heaven's name to do something! " 
 
 " We could see Cunningham grinning." 
 Mr. Martin took up the story; but he leaned 
 over his balcony and suggested a compro 
 mise.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 89 
 
 " * You'd better offer to pay a fine,' he ad 
 vised. ' That will probably satisfy 'em.' 
 
 " 'Fine ! ' roared the German he was 
 wild with rage - ' They've already taken 
 everything I have, down to my penknife, 
 and they're not satisfied. They want to put 
 me into their barracks for the night.' ' 
 
 "Oh! Wasn't he furious?" recalled 
 Mr. Anson, with relish. 
 
 " Rabid. But no wonder. He calmed 
 down a little, though, and said. ' I insist 
 upon seeing the mayor.' 
 
 " ' The Alcalde's either asleep at this time 
 of night, or else he's amusing himself,' Cun 
 ningham told him. * In either case he 
 wouldn't trouble about you until morning.' 
 Then what happened, Anson?" 
 
 " Oh, then the patrols cut it short, and 
 began to drag the officer away. Do you 
 remember how he shook 'em? " 
 
 " Don't I? Exactly as a big dog would 
 shake three little ones. But they were three 
 to one, and they held on. Off they went, 
 the officer making remarks that sounded any 
 thing but pious. 
 
 ' Then Hunter said, * I say ! It's awfully 
 funny, but it's a jolly outrage, you know.'
 
 90 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 ' Let's go over and rout out the Com- 
 andante,' Cunningham suggested. 
 
 ' He's as bad as the rest of 'em,' we told 
 him, and Cunningham said, 'Oh, of course; 
 but he might not care about having it known.' 
 
 ''Well, of course Hunter and Cunning 
 ham were in their pajamas, exactly as we 
 were " 
 
 Our story-tellers stopped to laugh and 
 choke; but Mrs. Martin and I would have 
 none of it. 
 
 " Never mind," we said, hastily. " Never 
 mind. What did you do?" 
 
 " We went after them," gurgled Mr. An- 
 son. ' The four of us ! All in pajamas ! 
 Full moonlight! Everything as bright as 
 day! Oh!" 
 
 " Just at the door of the barracks we 
 caught up with them," Mr. Martin managed 
 to go on, " and we all went in together. 
 The anteroom was lighted, but there was no 
 one there. 
 
 ' Call your Comandante,' Cunningham 
 said to the three patrols. 
 
 " ' He's asleep,' they objected. 
 
 " ' Wake him up,' Anson ordered. 
 
 " One of the boys went out, and we heard
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 91 
 
 sounds of knocking on a door opening off the 
 patio. In a minute or two the Comandante 
 came in of course in sleeping costume. 
 Then we had pink pajamas and light blue 
 pajamas and pale grey pajamas--! forget 
 the two other colors, but they were there, and 
 altogether it was a very pretty assortment. 
 The Comandante was still half asleep; the 
 officer was almost choking with fury; the boy 
 patrols looked uneasy. As for us our 
 idea was to appear stern and uncompromis 
 ing, but the effect would have been better 
 if we'd had time to smooth our hair." 
 
 At this, it was I who interrupted the story. 
 I pictured Mr. Cunningham and Mr. Hunter, 
 both Englishmen, both most conventional 
 and proper, in a court room at midnight, 
 arrayed in pajamas of variegated pastel 
 shades, countenances solemn and judicial, but 
 hair in the disorder of their pillows. For 
 the first time in my life I laughed till I cried. 
 Only my burning desire to hear the end of 
 the tale finally stopped me. 
 
 " There isn't much more," Mr. Anson 
 said, " but I'll tell that, because it was Mar 
 tin who. did it. Well, as we told you, the 
 Comandante came in. He bowed as if he
 
 92 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 were in ordinary evening clothes, and he said, 
 ' Buenos noches ' as if the time had been nine 
 o'clock instead of nearly one. 
 
 " We all said, ' Buenos noches' very po 
 litely, but then Martin took things into his 
 own hands. 
 
 " ' Look here,' he said, addressing the 
 Comandante with great dignity, while he 
 waved a pale-blue arm towards the three 
 little patrols; 'your men have arrested a 
 foreign officer.' 
 
 ' The officer, by the way, was in full uni 
 form, and by contrast with the rest of us he 
 looked an emperor at the very least. Also, 
 he was still muttering terrible things in his 
 own language. The Comandante looked at 
 him and began to wake up. 
 
 'I,' he stammered;- 'we have our 
 orders.' This idea seemed to give him con 
 fidence. ' The Serior was in the street after 
 the hour of nine, without a passport. He 
 will be detained here until morning, when he 
 will be taken before the Alcalde.' 
 
 " I saw Martin's eyes begin to get glittery. 
 Yes they were - he insisted, at Mr. 
 Martin's protest. " I didn't know what you 
 might be going to do next."
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 93 
 
 " Nonsense! " said Mr. Martin. " There 
 was only one thing to do." 
 
 "What?" Mrs. Martin and I demand 
 ed. 
 
 " Tell that rascal to make his young 
 thieves give back everything they'd taken 
 from the officer's pockets." 
 
 ' You gave the Comandante orders as to 
 what he should say to his own men? " I asked, 
 interestedly. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Did the Comandante do what you told 
 him?" 
 
 " Of course he did," Mr. Anson answered 
 the question. " He even put on an air of 
 being shocked and scandalized, though we 
 knew very well he would have shared in the 
 loot. Then he began to babble something 
 about a passport, again, and the Alcalde, and 
 a fine; but Martin cut him short. 
 
 ' You will be kind enough,' Martin said 
 to the German officer, ' to pay a fine of two 
 dollars. That lets you out of any possible 
 complication. For the rest, I take all the 
 responsibility.' ' 
 
 (Mrs. Martin beamed at her husband, 
 approvingly.)
 
 94 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 "Well; the officer paid the fine, and for 
 the first time stopped swearing. 
 
 'Then Martin bowed ceremoniously to 
 the Commandante, and the Comandante 
 bowed to Martin. Everyone said, ' Buenos 
 noches' with great courtesy, and then we five 
 foreigners went out together two Amer 
 icans and two Englishmen, in pajamas, and 
 one German officer in full uniform! Oh, 
 my soul! It was funny!" 
 
 "Did anyone see you, in the streets?" 
 Mrs. Martin and I asked, as we all laughed 
 together. 
 
 " Not a soul. There was no one about. 
 The officer went off, most thankfully, to his 
 ship, and the rest of us went home to bed, 
 nobody the wiser." 
 
 July 20th. 
 
 This is Independence Day in Colombia 
 the day corresponding to our Fourth. No 
 one on the finca is paying the slightest atten 
 tion to it (I doubt if one of the mozos knows 
 what day it is), and I hardly think the occa 
 sion is being observed in Santa Marta. Last 
 year I spent the Twentieth in Bogota, and 
 owing to the revolution there was no celebra-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 95 
 
 tion of any kind. There were exciting ru 
 mors, during the week or two preceding, that 
 great political events were to take place on 
 that day: Marin, the negro liberal general, 
 proclaimed that he meant to spend the Twen 
 tieth in the national capital. But nothing 
 happened, except that food became nearly as 
 high as if there were an actual siege, and poor 
 people starved. On the nineteenth, I remem 
 ber, I went to see my dentist, who was an 
 ardent liberal, and as I was leaving he told me 
 to come in again the next day. ' The Twen 
 tieth of July ? " I reminded him. * You won't 
 be in your office to-morrow, will you?" 
 " To-morrow and every day till this govern 
 ment falls," he said fiercely. ' We are not 
 in peace and I feel very little like celebrating 
 a holiday. Come to-morrow ! " - I am so 
 glad I was not born a Colombian. 
 
 It often frightens me to think how differ 
 ently things might have turned out if some 
 trifling incident had not happened to make 
 them eventuate as they did. It is awesome 
 to consider that one little step to the right 
 or to the left, one decision made unthinkingly, 
 even a chance action of some person, who, 
 otherwise has nothing whatever to do with
 
 96 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 one's life, may turn a scale in one direction 
 or another, and bring about results the most 
 stupendous. If I had not gone to just the 
 pension in Switzerland that I did, I should 
 not have met the Caravallos, and almost 
 certainly should never have seen South Amer 
 ica. Again, when I was in Barranquilla, ex 
 pecting to take the next steamer for New 
 York, it happened that that next steamer 
 was the only one of the month which stopped 
 at Kingston on the way up; for this reason 
 every berth had been engaged before it 
 reached Colombia, and there was no place for 
 me. So then, when I found I should have 
 to wait over another week if I sailed from 
 Barranquilla, I decided, rather, to go to Santa 
 Marta and take the banana boat from there; 
 and the only reason that I did not leave on 
 the banana boat was that I happened to say 
 to El Serior Consul that I was longing to 
 experience a coffee plantation. It is an old, 
 old question, to what extent these things are 
 arranged for us before we are born, and how 
 much we, ourselves, have to do with them; 
 yet, even where doctors have disagreed, I can 
 not help turning my mind, modestly, to the 
 question's consideration. Suppose I had not
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 97 
 
 gone to that pension? There were many, 
 many others. Suppose it had been any one 
 of the three steamers each month that do 
 not stop at Kingston? Or suppose I had 
 not mentioned coffee to El Serior Consul? 
 All this has been brought to my mind by the 
 thought of how very near I was to not having 
 a garden. There was only my remark in 
 regard to being an agriculturist: I might quite 
 as easily have spoken of monkeys. I under 
 stand Maeterlinck to say that the future Is 
 just as much a fact as the past. In that 
 case, the garden was just as much a fact two 
 weeks ago as it is to-day. But if Mr. Mar 
 tin had not suggested a garden? If I had 
 not chanced to mention agriculture? 
 
 The next morning after Mrs. Martin and 
 I went down the hill and picked out the piece 
 of ground, Mr. Martin let me have Fran 
 cisco, and for nine days after that, excluding 
 Sundays, I paid the man fifteen Colombian 
 paper dollars a day to work for me. The 
 result is satisfactory in the superlative de 
 gree. I have a kitchen garden of ten beds, 
 each about twenty-five feet long by four wide, 
 the whole enclosed by a wire fence against 
 Mrs. Martin's chickens. In the beds I have
 
 98 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 sowed seeds of beans, peas, beets, cabbages, 
 and white and red Bermuda onions. Also, I 
 have filled one bed with slips from La Nina 
 Eva's tomato plants. Now I am impatiently 
 waiting for the seeds to show above ground, 
 and full of envy of Jonah, whose gourd came 
 up in a single night. In the meantime I have 
 ordered four barrels of potatoes from the 
 States; when they come they are to be 
 planted off in one of the clearings, as there 
 is not enough vacant land by the house. 
 
 I shall be so glad when we are in the new 
 house and near my garden; now I have half 
 an hour's climbing to do every time I plant 
 a bean. La Casa Nueva is getting on finely, 
 and we expect to move in about the first of 
 August. The outside framework of the 
 house is nearly " mudded up " ; the cement 
 floors are being made on the rooms of the 
 lower story, and the roof is shingled. We 
 are going to have ceilings, so there will be 
 no more rats dropping onto my bed from the 
 rafters. 
 
 Almost every part of the new house has 
 been made here on the plantation. The 
 shingles are split from the wood of trees 
 cut in our own forests; the doors and win-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 99 
 
 dow-frames are made by our carpenters; all 
 the planks for the flooring of the rooms up 
 stairs are sawed out here, and even the bricks 
 for the chimney and the fireplace are of home 
 manufacture. Really, the only things that 
 I can think of at this moment that are im 
 ported are the glass for the window panes 
 (no longer will the fog come rolling in, thick 
 enough to be moulded into balls!), the ce 
 ment for the lower rooms and the corridors; 
 and the hinges, locks and window catches. 
 We are even to have native-made furniture 
 after the house is finished and the carpen 
 ters can turn their attention to tables and 
 chairs. 
 
 The Sunday after we returned from " the 
 Anson's paranda" Don Roberto came up to 
 take me orchid hunting. This is not the 
 part of Colombia for the best and rarest 
 orchids, but there are some here in the forest 
 that would be considered beautiful in the 
 north, and I wanted to send them to my 
 brother, at home. It was certainly good of 
 me to do this, for I had the most awful 
 experiences trying to bring a box of orchids 
 and other tropical plants when I came from 
 Bogota to the coast so awful that I vowed,
 
 ioo COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 then, never willingly to have anything to do 
 with an orchid again. One of the men of 
 our party brought a parrot and I brought 
 orchids; it would be hard to say which gave 
 the more trouble, but the parrot died first. 
 If I ever have an enemy, I shall try to get 
 him to travel for weeks, in war time, through 
 the tropics, on mules and on boats and on 
 trains, with plants that must be watered, and 
 must not be too wet, and can not be put in 
 the sun, when there isn't any shade. I can 
 see that box of orchids, now, falling off the 
 mule's back with the rest of the cargo, the 
 mule rolling over and over and kicking every 
 thing to pieces; Mr. Adams shouting at the 
 arrlero to put that small box under the suit 
 case so that the sun would not shine on it; and 
 the arrlero swearing at the mule and the or 
 chids and the parrot and us, impartially. 
 " Mula sin vcrguenzaf " (Mule without 
 shame) he would shout, wrathfully, and the 
 shameless mule would scramble to its feet, 
 have its eyes blindfolded, meekly allow itself 
 to be re-cargoed, and promise to be good till 
 the next time. 
 
 But that was six months ago, and so much 
 has happened in the meantime that I have
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 101 
 
 become soothed and calm on the orchid sub 
 ject, and when Don Roberto said he knew 
 where there were very fine ones, I somehow 
 felt entirely willing to go and get them. 
 
 We rode mules, of course, and we went 
 across the valley in a cut through the forest 
 that is seldom used, and in most places, is 
 no more than a trail. In one spot, however, 
 it broadens out to a width of about six feet, 
 and it was there that we saw the snake. 
 Such a snake! More than a snake; it was a 
 boa constrictor. I was riding ahead, when, 
 as I say, the trail opened out, and across it, 
 exactly in front of me, almost under my 
 mule's forefeet, was slowly gliding an enor 
 mous serpent. I was so startled that it may 
 have appeared to me much larger and longer 
 than it was, but Don Roberto, who hastily 
 rode to my side when I stopped and cried 
 out, says it really was a monster and one of 
 the largest snakes ever seen in the Sierra 
 Nevadas. When we first saw it in front of 
 us, its head was already out of sight in the 
 forest on one side of the trail, and as we 
 stopped there and watched it ripple across 
 the path, it seemed minutes, and surely was 
 a great many seconds, before its tail emerged
 
 102 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 from the fern on the other side and finally 
 disappeared. When I was in Bogota, an 
 Indian hunter came to the Caravallos' house 
 one day with what I thought was a great roll 
 of matting. It was about one yard wide, and 
 there was such a bundle of it that, as the 
 man held it under his arm, it reached from 
 his armpit to his fingers. He put it down 
 on the corridor and unrolled it away from 
 him as a salesman exhibits a piece of carpet, 
 and then I saw, to my wonder and delight, 
 that it was a dried snake skin a yard wide, 
 as I have said, and quite twenty feet long. 
 The man had brought it for me to buy, but 
 it was so enormously bulky that I was afraid 
 I should never be able to get it home, so 
 I refused to take it, and have been sorry ever 
 since. Of course our snake of Sunday was 
 not as large as that, but it was quite the big 
 gest one I ever saw alive, and I wish I could 
 have had its skin. If Don Roberto had had 
 a chance to get at its head he might have 
 cut it off with his machete, but it was im 
 possible to follow the thing into the forest, 
 and to have slashed at its tail as it crossed 
 the road would have been madness : we 
 should " have scotched the snake, not killed
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 103 
 
 it." So it is gone. It was really a beauty, 
 and I am glad I saw it. 
 
 We went on, and got a great many orchids, 
 though none that were like those I saw in 
 the interior. As we rode, I told Don Ro 
 berto my plan for a garden. But I had 
 hardly begun when he broke in, 
 
 " But, Seriorita " (he always calls me 
 Senorita, rolling the r like a Spaniard, while 
 the rest of his speech is so very English that 
 the combination is fascinating). "But, Se 
 norita seeds, even in the tropics, require 
 time to grow, don't you know." 
 
 " Dear me, yes; I know that well enough," 
 I complained. " I'm in such a hurry for 
 them to come up that I don't know how I'm 
 ever going to wait." 
 
 " Quite so," he answered. Then a most 
 un-English gleam came into his eyes, so that, 
 in spite of myself, mine dropped. " But the 
 question is, are you going to wait? " he asked, 
 looking at me. 
 
 It is disconcerting and uncanny for a man 
 to be two nationalities at once. Englishmen 
 I know, and Colombians I know, but to find 
 both in one person is more than a woman is 
 prepared for.
 
 104 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 I really had not considered the fact that 
 in laying out a garden I was practically ar 
 ranging a future of at least months in the 
 Sierra Nevadas. When I came up here I 
 quite thought that by autumn, if not sooner, 
 I should have had enough of it. Yet it is 
 now almost the first of August and I am 
 placidly putting in cabbage seeds, which, as 
 Don Roberto remarks, infer time, even in the 
 tropics. 
 
 He was still looking, and waiting for an 
 answer. " Nonsense ! He is only a man," 
 I said to myself, scornfully. Then, aloud, 
 
 " Oh, I can always leave the garden and 
 go home, you know." 
 
 This was intended to be cool and crushing, 
 but I am afraid it was too evidently an after 
 thought to be effective. He is quite clever 
 enough to have perceived that the leaving-it- 
 and-going-home idea had but that moment oc 
 curred to me, and that what I was actually 
 planning, even if I had not realized it, was 
 to stay on at El Cafetal indefinitely. 
 
 But I fancy he saw that I did not quite 
 like having someone else understand my ac 
 tions better than I had understood them my 
 self.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 105 
 
 " Have you ever seen panela made? " he 
 inquired, unexpectedly. " Or eaten it, hot 
 and so ft?" 
 
 "No," I said; "neither the one nor the 
 other. We don't make panela at El Cafetal, 
 you know." 
 
 " Will you and Mrs. Martin come down 
 to ' Vista Linda ' one day, soon, and watch 
 the process? " 
 
 " I should be delighted." 
 
 " How do you get on with the rats? " 
 
 Decidedly, Latins have a nimbleness of 
 speech that an Anglo-Saxon never possesses. 
 I do not think Kent could change the sub 
 ject three times in three minutes, though an 
 American could do it better than an English 
 man could. Fancy Harry Hunter, darting 
 from one topic to another as a humming bird 
 flashes from flower to flower! One can as 
 easily picture an owl dancing a jig. 
 
 It was necessary to think hard and fast to 
 keep up with Don Roberto's mental one-hun 
 dred-yard dashes, but I did it, and I liked 
 doing it. 
 
 '* I always sleep with only my nose outside 
 the blankets," I said, now. ' The rats run 
 over the bed, and I wouldn't have one of
 
 106 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 them touch my face for the world. Ugh! 
 They are the one thing on the plantation that 
 I don't like." 
 
 ' You must have a cat," said Don Roberto. 
 " In fact, a cat and two kittens." 
 
 " Why two kittens? " I asked. 
 
 " Because the cat that I am going to give 
 you has two children who would not like to 
 be separated from her," he answered, gravely, 
 in the tone of one alluding to a widowed 
 mother and her offspring. 
 
 Monday morning, appeared Don Roberto's 
 house boy, with a basket. 
 
 " A regalo (present) for the Senorita," 
 announced the boy, putting the basket into 
 my hands. 
 
 "What in the world is this?" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Martin. 
 
 " A cat and two kittens, of course," I said 
 in a matter-of-fact tone, as I took off the 
 cover. 
 
 Mrs. Martin stared at me, but instantly 
 transferred her gaze, as out onto the floor 
 walked a large gray cat, while a black kitten 
 and a buff kitten tumbled after her. 
 
 Tied to the handle of the basket were two 
 small envelopes, one addressed to Mrs. Mar-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 107 
 
 tin and one to Miss Parnell. Inside of each 
 was Don Roberto's card. Below the name 
 he had written, " Wednesday from two until 
 five," and across the top, " Panela " as 
 it might have been " Dancing," or " Bridge." 
 
 We laughed, Mrs. Martin and I, and at 
 once sent back by the house boy our cards 
 with " Acceptance," inscribed thereon. 
 
 Panela is the Colombian substitute for 
 maple sugar, made from the sugar cane. On 
 Wednesday Mrs. Martin and I rode down 
 to " Vista Linda," and reviewed panela-mak- 
 ing from start to finish, except the cutting of 
 the cane, which had been done the day before. 
 The cane, in great bundles, is carried on the 
 backs of oxen to the grinding place (I can 
 not be technical) where it is crushed between 
 rollers. The juice runs into tanks which are 
 heated from below, and is boiled down until 
 it is like molasses. It is then drawn off, 
 allowed to cool and thicken a little, then 
 poured into moulds about two inches deep, 
 six long and four wide, where it hardens into 
 cakes. When it is soft and warm it is the 
 most delicious thing I ever ate, and hard and 
 cold it is very like maple sugar. The na 
 tives eat quantities of it; so do the children;
 
 io8 .COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 and so does Mrs. Martin's governess. We 
 have our coffee so early that by ten in the 
 morning I am in a half-starved condition, 
 from which only bread and panela can save 
 me. If Mrs. Martin is in the storeroom, 
 she deals out the life-giving food with gen 
 erous hand. If she is not there, she gives 
 me the key and I help myself. It may be 
 from this circumstance that little Willie con 
 nects me, vaguely, with storeroom, key, and 
 the dear-to-his-heart panela. At any rate, 
 last Sunday morning he awoke very early, got 
 out of bed before any one else was up, and 
 went forth alone onto the corridor. After a 
 bit, he naturally became hungry. His 
 mother and father were still asleep, and I 
 think he realized that if he wakened them he 
 would be in danger of an ignominious putting 
 back to bed. Then I must have come into his 
 baby mind, for presently there was a thump 
 ing at one of my outside doors, and opening 
 it, I beheld Willie, still in his little night 
 shirt, very dejected, and suffering the pangs 
 of hunger. When I opened the door he 
 brightened up, believing, I suppose, that re 
 lief was in sight. 
 
 " Tia," (aunt) as he calls me " pan,
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 109 
 
 (bread) panela." At the same time he 
 clasped my hand to lead me to the store 
 room. 
 
 " But, Willie," I said, " I can't give you 
 bread and panela. It is all locked up." 
 
 " Tia! " he repeated emphatically, as if I 
 could not have understood him " 'pan; pan 
 ela. Bengal" (come), still dragging on 
 my hand. 
 
 " But, Willie," I said again, " I can't give 
 it to you, dear. I haven't any key." 
 
 With the word " key " it seemed that he 
 began to grasp the situation. 
 
 " No tiene Have? " (You haven't the key ?) 
 he inquired, searchingly. 
 
 " No," I assured him, " I really haven't, 
 Willie." 
 
 He released my hand, sighed heavily, then 
 walked away, shaking his head. Until he 
 was far down the corridor, I heard him 
 saying, over and over, in the gloomiest of 
 tones - ' Tiene Have, no; tiene Have, no." 
 (She hasn't the key; she hasn't the key). 
 
 I thanked Don Roberto, on Wednesday, 
 for the cat and the two kittens; -- for the 
 cat on account of the rats, and for the kittens 
 on their own account. They are the dear-
 
 1 10 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 est things ! I have named them Claro and 
 Oscuro, because one is light and the other 
 dark. Nothing could be funnier than their 
 antics together. Yesterday afternoon I sat 
 on the corridor, watching them, and I laughed 
 till I nearly cried. First, they both spied a 
 bug in the grass, and both made graceful 
 little springs for it. Then the bug must 
 have moved I couldn't see it for the 
 kittens drew back, startled. Next, they cau 
 tiously advanced, jumped towards the crea 
 ture from opposite sides, missed it, but hit 
 each other with a soft thud. At that they 
 forgot the foreign enemy, and civil warfare 
 began. Both crouched low, and each 
 watched the other, warily. Suddenly they 
 sprang together, rolling over and over as 
 they met. Then they separated and were 
 quiet for an instant. Claro pretended to be 
 off guard; Oscuro eyed him, craftily. All at 
 once Glare's paw went out, and swiftly cuffed 
 Oscuro on the ear. Up jumped Oscuro and 
 tore away, full speed, Claro after him. They 
 raced over the grass till they reached a little 
 chicken coop, now empty. Oscuro darted in 
 behind the lattice; Claro stopped just out 
 side, on guard. There were a few seconds
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR in 
 
 of suspense; then, without warning, Oscuro's 
 paw flew out and hit Claro squarely on the 
 nose. Followed a wild dash for the lattice 
 by Claro, and a brilliant defence on the part 
 of the besieged. Anon, Claro ceased hostil 
 ities, and turning his back upon his brother, 
 began to lick his paws, and straighten his 
 fur, ruffled by the fray. Oscuro lay low, but 
 I could almost see him wink as he sat there 
 and watched Claro and took note of the un 
 wary attitude. If a truce had been tacitly 
 agreed upon, Oscuro broke faith in a most 
 disgraceful manner. For while Claro was 
 making his toilet, unsuspectingly, and peace 
 and quiet reigned presto! Oscuro was 
 out from behind the lattice. Over rolled 
 Claro, and on top of him the perfidious 
 brother over and over until both were tan 
 gled into one soft, struggling heap. At that 
 I laughed aloud; the kittens jumped apart, 
 drew back, and looked at me, alertly. Then, 
 with a common impulse, they ran frantically 
 away, across the grass, under the roses, and 
 around the house, out of sight. 
 
 Another funny thing happened yesterday. 
 I had washed my hair and then had gone out 
 to let it dry in the sun, taking a book with
 
 ii2 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 me. As I read, I suddenly felt, from behind, 
 a twitch and a tug on the hair, but I thought 
 it was one of the children and took no notice. 
 Then there was a decided pull, and I turned 
 quickly around to remonstrate and to catch 
 the prankish one. But instead of the laugh 
 ing child that I expected to see dodging away 
 from me, there stood a little calf, looking at 
 me with brown eyes full of wonder. It had 
 evidently mistaken my hair for a bunch of 
 hay. 
 
 July 29 th, Sunday. 
 
 Yesterday morning Mrs. Martin and I 
 worked from seven to eleven, planting out 
 cabbages. I, personally, put into the ground, 
 three hundred and five little cabbages that 
 Mrs. Martin gave me from her garden, 
 grown from seeds. These, of course, I did 
 not put into the beds of my kitchen garden 
 there would not have been room but in 
 a clearing down below the banana trees. 
 Then in the afternoon I went down the hill 
 again, and sowed, in my garden, seeds of car 
 rots, cauliflowers and cucumbers. (The 
 beans and peas that I planted last week are 
 already up.) I went to bed at eight o'clock 
 and slept ten hours.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 113 
 
 Everyone who has been here, lately, has 
 chaffed me unmercifully about my vegetable 
 raising. They offer me magnifying glasses to 
 see the little green shoots above the ground; 
 they prophesy that my returns from the pota 
 toes will be empty barrels, and they advise 
 me that salt does not grow at this altitude. 
 Mr. Cunningham rode over the other day, 
 announcing that he had come for fresh vege 
 tables, and that he wished to file his order, 
 now, for all the potatoes that I shall have. 
 The other night, while we were at dinner, 
 Juana came up from Santa Marta, bringing a 
 letter from Mr. Martin's agent, saying that 
 the four barrels of potatoes have been or 
 dered from New York. Mr. Martin glanced 
 at the note and handed it to me, without 
 comment. I read it and passed it on to Mrs. 
 Martin, who said, cordially, " Well ! so your 
 potatoes are really on the way." The dis 
 agreeable Englishman was dining with us that 
 night, and at Mrs. Martin's remark he said 
 to me, sarcastically, " I suppose you expect to 
 make your everlasting fortune." 
 
 I was trying to think of something to say, 
 when Mr. Martin looked up from his duke 
 and said, quietly, " Those potatoes are mine."
 
 ii4 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 Everyone stared at him. "What?" said 
 the disagreeable Englishman. 
 
 ' Those potatoes are mine," re 
 peated Mr. Martin, just as quietly, but with 
 an emphasis that could be felt. 
 
 Not another word was spoken on the sub 
 ject: none was needed. Mr. Martin had 
 made it perfectly understood that any further 
 remarks about potatoes could be sent to his 
 address. As Jean Ingelow says, " Some men* 
 are such gentlemen." 
 
 August 8th, Wednesday. 
 La Casa Nueva. 
 
 We moved last Saturday. Kent was here 
 to help us, and he is with us still. He arrived 
 Saturday morning in the midst of the con 
 fusion, and as of course he had not known 
 that we were going into the new house that 
 day, he thought at first, as he rode up, that 
 we were having another fire. Harry Hunter 
 came over with Kent from " La Ventura," to 
 show him the way, so we had still another as 
 sistant in our change of residence; but Mr. 
 Hunter went back the same afternoon. 
 
 Never was such a moving! Every single 
 thing had to be carried by hand down four
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 115 
 
 hundred feet of steepness. It was fortunate 
 that there were so many hands, for all was 
 to be under cover before the rain. The scene 
 on the side of the mountain, between the old 
 house and the new, looked like a colony of 
 ants, laden with spoil, running busily to and 
 fro from one ant hill to another. There 
 were Mr. Martin, Kent, Harry Hunter, Don 
 Pepe, Mrs. Martin, all the children who can 
 walk or toddle, myself, all the house servants, 
 and one or two men from the ranches. It 
 was up, up, up, and down, down, down, like 
 the King of France and his ten thousand men. 
 " And when we were only half way up, we 
 were neither up nor down." By noon it was 
 all over; breakfast was cooked in the new 
 kitchen, and eaten in the dining-room of 
 la casa nueva. There were no carpets to lay 
 down; things were simply put into their ap 
 propriate spaces and corners, and all was 
 done. As the rain came on, and the after 
 noon grew cool, we lighted a fire in the new 
 fireplace; and when we saw that the chimney 
 absolutely did not smoke, we felt, for the mo 
 ment, that there was nothing more to wish 
 for. Of course, as we are human beings, very 
 much alive, and healthily progressive, we are,
 
 u6 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 now, two days later, happily dissatisfied again. 
 We want new furniture of all kinds; some 
 sort of decoration paper or otherwise 
 for inside walls and ceilings; Mr. Martin de 
 sires a ridge-pole, and Mrs. Martin and I are 
 eager to paint the fireplace. But these things 
 will arrive in time, and in the meanwhile we 
 are in the house whose building we have 
 watched so long and so interestedly La 
 Casa Nueva! Everything is convenient and 
 comfortable, and we have a fine sense of space 
 and expansion. It seems odd to go upstairs 
 again, after having lived entirely on one floor. 
 My new room is in the second story, and I 
 consider it the best room in the house, as its 
 window is to the view, the west, and the sun 
 set. There are two bedrooms upstairs, be 
 sides a large space which we use for storage. 
 Downstairs we have a sala, a dining-room, a 
 square hall, three bedrooms, an office and a 
 beautiful despensa (storeroom) which is the 
 joy of the housewife's heart. Apart from 
 the main house, but connected by a roofed cor 
 ridor, are the kitchen and the servants' quar 
 ters, and a bath house, in which is a large, 
 cemented, brick tank. Water is led into this 
 from a spring which flows down the hill, run-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 117 
 
 ning through the sun, so that by ten o-clock 
 in the morning it is warmed to just the right 
 temperature to make bathing delicious. A 
 little distance from these buildings is a chicken 
 house and run. To the right of the house is 
 Mrs. Martin's garden (mine is below, down 
 a little declivity); beyond that the store 
 quite a sizable building, with several rooms 
 in it and, further off, the stable, as it is 
 called, but which is no more than a very 
 large, open shed, where the mules may be 
 sheltered when they are not in the fields. 
 
 The store is quite an important factor in the 
 life of the plantation. It is always spoken 
 of by its English name I do not know why. 
 We call the sitting-room, the sola; the store- 
 ro'om, the despensa; muleteers, arrieros; the 
 plantation a finca or an hacienda, and so on; 
 but the store is always the store it is not 
 even a shop. Everything that the mozos and 
 their families need to eat or to wear or to 
 keep house with is sold in the store, and every 
 day at five o'clock, when the gong is sounded 
 for them to stop work, the people come in 
 numbers to buy. The selling, or broadly, the 
 attending to their wants, is called " despatch 
 ing " a Spanish word, Anglicised. Don
 
 ii8 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 Pepe usually " despatches," but some times 
 Mrs. Martin does it, and then I find it most 
 interesting to go down and sit on a barrel- 
 end, and watch the scene. It is generally the 
 men who come to buy, but often women come, 
 too, and sometimes little children. They 
 gather in front of the counter, laughing and 
 joking, and one by one they are " despatched." 
 The great staples of purchase are arroz and 
 mantcca (rice and lard) without which, 
 cooked together, they would not believe that 
 they could live a day. I always think of the 
 nonsense rhyme, 
 
 " IT IS CHEAP BY THE TON, 
 AND IT NOURISHES ONE, 
 AND THAT'S THE MAIN OBJECT OF FOOD." 
 
 But also they go away from the store with 
 calico, matches, machetes, platanos (plan 
 tains), melangas (the Colombian substitute 
 for potatoes), panela all manner of things 
 in the ubiquitous mochila (bag) over their 
 shoulders. The sun is just setting as they, 
 leave for their ranches, and the long light falls ' 
 on pictures worth seeing, of scattering groups 
 of dusky faces, bright eyes, dark, tumbled
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 119 
 
 hair, and lithe, erect bodies, quite untired 
 from the day's work. They separate to their 
 huts and their evening meal, and to such 
 family life as is possible to the conditions 
 in which they live conditions which shocked 
 me dreadfully when I first came up here, but 
 to which I am now entirely habituated, if not 
 reconciled. One can never be sure, in making 
 a morning call at any one of the ranches, 
 exactly what combination of master and mis 
 tress will present itself; it is not by any means 
 certain that it will be the same couple whom 
 one saw there together the day before. The 
 man may be the stranger, or it may be the 
 woman, but a change in one or the other 
 is not at all unusual. When I first knew of 
 this state of affairs, it seemed to me that 
 something ought to be done about it, and I 
 ventured to say so. Then I was told the 
 story of Mrs. Warner's marriages, and I 
 made no further suggestions. It seems that 
 some years ago there was, on one of the fincas, 
 a manager named Warner, whose wife was 
 the daughter of an English clergyman. Mrs. 
 Warner came straight from the rectory to 
 the Sierra Nevadas, and her consternation 
 at what she found may be easily imagined.
 
 120 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 She cried, and was homesick, and said it was 
 a heathen country, and that she could never 
 live here, but that if she did live here, she 
 would, at least, put a stop to the unwedded 
 life in the ranches. She talked about the 
 poor savages' ignorance of their moral obli 
 gations, and said that they only needed some 
 one to teach them, and that, once instructed, 
 they would gladly lead a better life. She 
 sent down to Santa Marta for a priest and 
 had him brought up on a mule. There was 
 one whole day in which the people were gath 
 ered together and exhorted, and at the end of 
 the services, all the couples, one after the 
 other, were solemnly and legally married. 
 The priest was then convoyed back to Santa 
 Marta, and a great satisfaction and sense of 
 duty well done filled the heart of Mrs. War 
 ner. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Warner! She had done her 
 best at least she could comfort herself with 
 that thought, and it is always a consolation. 
 Comfort of some kind she certainly needed, 
 for within a month from the day of the wed 
 dings there was not one single couple on the 
 plantation that was composed of the same
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 121 
 
 man and woman whom the priest had united 
 in holy matrimony. 
 
 " So you see," Mrs. Martin says, resign 
 edly, " nothing can be done. And it seems to 
 me better," she adds, most reasonably, " to 
 let them live as they do, unmarried, than to 
 marry them, knowing that they will be un 
 faithful to their vows in less than a month." 
 
 Mrs. Martin is one of the most reasonable 
 women I have ever known; one of the few 
 who can see a thing from another's stand 
 point. She is very even-tempered, and self- 
 controlled in the best sense of that word, 
 which does not in the least infer that she is 
 not impulsive. How I dislike a person who 
 is not impulsive ! 
 
 The other afternoon, a day or two after 
 Mrs. Martin and I had spent a long morning 
 transplanting cabbages, Clara came running 
 into the house, much excited, and calling out, 
 
 " Oh ! What do you think Francisco has 
 done?" 
 
 " What ? " we demanded. 
 
 " Taken up all Mother's little cabbages and 
 put them in Miss Parnell's garden ! " 
 
 It was only too true. We can not make
 
 122 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 out why he did it, but through some misunder 
 standing of orders, Francisco, the man who 
 works for me, had carefully dug up nearly all 
 the young cabbages that Mrs. Martin had so 
 toilsomely put into the ground, and had re 
 planted them in my garden. It was enough 
 to have made a sphinx tear its hair, for not 
 only had all Mrs. Martin's labor gone for 
 naught, but she had lost the cabbages, which 
 would not bear transplanting a second time. 
 La Nina Eva only laughed just laughed 
 and laughed till she could laugh no more. 
 
 Kent has been visiting the plantations in 
 the other valley, and now, as I have said, he is 
 here at El Cafetal. He is studying coffee at 
 first hand, and though he affects a cool, dis 
 passionate attitude in speaking on the subject, 
 I can see that if he has not already a case 
 of coffee fever, at least his pulse is rapid, 
 and his temperature above normal. He goes 
 out with Mr. Martin every morning and stays 
 until breakfast time, watching the mozos at 
 whatever they are doing. After breakfast, 
 away the two go again, walking or riding over 
 the finca until I am positive there is not an inch 
 where a man or a mule can go that Kent has 
 not seen. Already he knows so much more
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 123 
 
 about the plantation than I do that I feel as 
 if he were the one who belongs here, and I 
 the newcomer and outsider, and I don't know 
 whether I like it or not. I suppose it is very 
 strenuous and business-like, but I should think 
 he need not spend all his time like that. Even 
 after dinner Kent and Mr. Martin talk about 
 " hectares," and felling, and cleaning, and 
 shade, and pulpers, and driers, until it is time 
 to be asleep; in fact, Mrs. Martin and I 
 go to our rooms and leave those two men 
 still smoking and talking in the sola, and 
 qulen sabe at what hour they go to bed ? 
 
 The only time that Kent has had for me 
 was last Sunday afternoon while Mr. Mar 
 tin was taking his nap and even then his 
 thoughts were altogether on coffee. Between 
 rains I took him down to my garden, and 
 showed him everything, and told him about 
 the potatoes, and all that I am planning to 
 do. Remembering Don Roberto, I naturally 
 expected Kent to ask me, eagerly, how long 
 I intended to remain in Colombia ; I even felt 
 a trifle apprehensive as to what he would say 
 on that subject. I need not have feared; 
 we might just as well have been speaking of 
 Mrs. Martin's garden. At first, indeed,
 
 124 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 Kent did seem interested; he asked me so 
 particularly just when I had put in the seeds, 
 and how long they had been in coming up. 
 I told him, and he gave my answers such 
 careful attention that I felt quite flattered, 
 and touched. But when I had finished, and 
 he had the data all in his mind, he said, 
 slowly and thoughtfully, 
 
 ' Yes; it's awfully good soil. Seeds don't 
 come up like that at home. Coffee certainly 
 ought to do well here." 
 
 Then we went back to the house, and found 
 Mr. Martin awake, and it needed only the 
 word " soil " to start them off again on one 
 of their discussions. 
 
 " Twenty-five thousand up to January of 
 next year, you said, I think?" This was 
 from Kent. 
 
 "Yes; twenty-five thousand, total cost of 
 making the plantation. But I have got back 
 in crops five thousand, so am out of pocket, 
 up to that date, twenty thousand dollars." 
 
 " Then what about next year's crop? " 
 
 " Fifteen thousand dollars. Eight thou 
 sand of that will go for running the place, 
 making the estate stand, at the end of next
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 125 
 
 year, at a cost of thirteen thousand dollars. 
 The same returns for the following year will 
 bring it down to six thousand." 
 
 " And the year after that I understand that 
 the coffee will be in full production. How 
 many bags did you say? " 
 
 " Twenty-five hundred; which would mean 
 thirty thousand dollars at the low price of 
 to-day." 
 
 " And the expenses of that year? " 
 
 " Ten thousand dollars." 
 
 " Twenty thousand net. That's fourteen 
 thousand to the good. And an estate worth 
 one hundred thousand, you estimate?" 
 
 "One hundred thousand; yes." 
 
 " By Jove ! cried Kent, his eyes shining. 
 " Then look here " 
 
 " Will you have a cup of tea? " I asked, 
 meekly. (Mrs. Martin always leaves after 
 noon tea to me, because I like to make it, 
 and she doesn't.) 
 
 " We were speaking of coffee - said 
 Kent, smiling, as I handed him his cup. 
 
 "Oh, really?" I interpolated. 
 
 " But at five o'clock I suppose it is time 
 to change the subject."
 
 126 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 August nth. 
 
 Kent has gone, but Mr. and Mrs. Brit 
 ish Consul are now staying with us. They 
 came yesterday afternoon, accompanied by 
 Don Roberto, whom they have been visiting 
 for a short time. We had a jolly tea, and 
 then, as Kent is to stop at " Vista Linda " 
 for a few days, and see that plantation be 
 fore he returns to Santa Marta, he and Don 
 Roberto went away together. 
 
 I have noticed a very curious thing in 
 regard to those two men : Kent's Ameri 
 canism seems to blot out all the English in 
 Don Roberto, and leave the latter pure Co 
 lombian. When Don Roberto is alone, if I 
 do not consider his eyes, and if he does not 
 say Senorita, he seems to me to be as thor 
 oughly an Englishman as Mr. British Con 
 sul is; but when he is with Kent, in some 
 mysterious fashion the English drops away 
 from him melts, dissolves, vanishes 
 until there is no trace of it left, and I wonder 
 that I ever thought him anything but a Span 
 iard. It is like one of those experiments 
 that we used to do at school. There was a 
 glass jar full of some reddish-yellow liquid; 
 the professor poured into it a drop or two of
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 127 
 
 blue stuff, and instantly the red disappeared, 
 leaving a pure amber. I have always dis 
 liked chemistry, but with characters in the 
 crucible, instead of atoms, it is a more inter 
 esting science.
 
 'August 1 5th. 
 
 MY potatoes were brought up from 
 Santa Marta day before yesterday. 
 La casa nueva is much nearer the 
 road than the old house was, and we now 
 know, both by sight and by sound, when the 
 arrieros and the mules are coming, at least 
 minutes before they reach the store, where 
 the mules are always unloaded. Far away, 
 winding in and out as the trail bends and 
 curves, we see the line of laden mules, and, 
 presently, the long, peculiar cry of the arrie 
 ros reaches our ears. The children have 
 known that my potatoes were coming and 
 have been on the watch for them, so, when the 
 little caravan was sighted, there was a shout 
 of " Ahi viene las papas! Ahi viene las 
 papas!" (here come the potatoes) and Wil 
 lie came running to me with the news 
 " Tia papas! Tia papas!" Yester 
 day fourteen men were planting, and last 
 night the potatoes were all in the ground. 
 128
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 129 
 
 The planting cost me two hundred and fifty- 
 nine dollars in Colombian paper about 
 five dollars gold. 
 
 I have every reason to believe that the 
 situation of my future potato crop was once 
 that of Indian dwellings. One small, level 
 spot, in particular, was evidently a site of some 
 importance. At one side or edge of this 
 space, just where the ground begins to slope 
 steeply away, there are two monoliths, about 
 ten feet high, standing eight feet apart, and 
 from them, leading down the slope, is a par 
 ticularly broad and well-made stone stair 
 way. The steps thus lead directly down 
 from the stone pillars, and Mrs. Martin and 
 I firmly believe that the latter were once the 
 side posts of a great gate or doorway 
 probably the entrance to the abode of 2 
 mighty chief. 
 
 Just here, in digging holes for the pota 
 toes, the men found two knives, each about 
 a foot long; one curved at the end, something 
 like a pruning knife, and the other straight. 
 They are both so encrusted with rust as to 
 be at least twice their original thickness, and 
 they are very heavy. Mr. British Consul 
 was much interested in the find.
 
 130 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 " Spanish, of course," he said, taking the 
 knives in his hands and turning them this 
 way and that. " I wonder if the old Span 
 iards themselves got this far up the valley, 
 or if the Indians went down to Santa Marta 
 and traded with the white men, and then 
 brought the knives up here to their homes. 
 Either way, the things have been under your 
 potato patch, Miss Parnell, for over three 
 hundred and fifty years; long enough for the 
 forest to grow up, above them, and flourish 
 for centuries before Mr. Martin cut it down 
 to make his clearings. How I'd like to 
 know the personal history of these knives," 
 he went on musingly. " They must have 
 been a great wonder to the red men when 
 they were first brought up here, and I dare 
 say they were the chiefest treasures of the 
 lucky Indian who owned them. Perhaps he 
 was murdered on their account by some en 
 vious brave who took that way to get posses 
 sion of them. They didn't happen to find 
 a human skull near the knives, did they? " 
 
 " I don't think they found any skull," I 
 answered, laughing. 
 
 " Caramba! Yes, they did," broke in 
 Mr. Martin. " I brought it home, but I
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 131 
 
 forgot to give it to you." He put his hand 
 into the large pocket of his field jacket, took 
 out a veritable skull, and tendered it to me, 
 his eyes twinkling. 
 
 " But that is a child's skull," I said, hold 
 ing it, gingerly; " just a baby's." 
 
 Mr. Martin smiled, and so did Mr. Brit 
 ish Consul. 
 
 " Is that the first one you've seen, Miss Par- 
 nell?" asked Mr. Martin. 
 
 " The first what? " I said, puzzled. 
 
 " The first skull of a monkey." 
 
 " Monkey ! " 
 
 " Certainly. That is a monkey's skull; it 
 does look human, doesn't it? " 
 
 It did indeed. " Just fancy," I said, 
 " that was once the head of a live monkey. 
 I wonder if he lived here in the days of the 
 Indians." 
 
 " Oh, by the way," Mr. British Consul was 
 reminded; "What about that murder? In 
 view of the evidence just presented I incline 
 to the opinion that the great Chief who pos 
 sessed the knives of the Pale-face was not 
 murdered, but that his life was saved through 
 a timely warning given him by the excited 
 chattering of his favorite monkey."
 
 132 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 'The monkey himself was killed," I sug 
 gested, holding up the skull. 
 
 " Certainly," concurred Mr. British Con 
 sul, gravely. ' The monkey was poisoned by 
 the baffled assassin; but he died happy in the 
 consciousness of having done his duty." 
 
 I took the old knives up to my room 
 when I went to bed, and my last waking 
 thought was that I wished they could speak 
 and tell me what Mr. British Consul calls 
 their personal history. I went to sleep, and 
 slept long and soundly, but as it was getting 
 on towards morning, I suddenly heard the 
 queerest noise a rattling, clanking, metallic 
 sort of noise and instantly I opened my 
 eyes. The room was full of moonlight 
 tropical monlight and every object was 
 clear and distinct. I saw the two old Span 
 ish knives, but not quite where I had left 
 them, and they were not alone somehow 
 their resurrection of yesterday had become 
 known, for while I had slept, quite a gather 
 ing of their friends had come to greet them. 
 There were an old flint-lock gun, a modern 
 rifle, a revolver and an Indian arrow-head, 
 besides a number of knives of various kinds. 
 These last were, of course, the immediate
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 133 
 
 relatives of the Spanish knives, and, with 
 them, formed, as it were, a little group apart. 
 They were talking excitedly, and once I saw 
 one of the Spanish knives point quickly to 
 the monkey's skull which lay on the shelf 
 above them. I would have given anything 
 to have been able to hear what was being 
 said, for of course I knew that it must be 
 the story of the attempted murder. What 
 light the narrative, told by the knife itself, 
 undoubtedly an eye witness, would have 
 thrown on the life, customs and history of 
 those days ! Just what Mr. British Consul 
 had wanted so much to know. Just what 
 Mrs. Martin and I had so often wondered 
 and talked about, when we had tried to get 
 Mr. Martin to excavate on the sites of the 
 Indian villages. But, most unfortunately, 
 the knives were too far from where I lay for 
 me to distinguish more than a word or two, 
 here and there, and even what I could hear 
 was spoken in such a quaint old Spanish, as 
 it might have been the Spanish of Cervantes, 
 that I could not understand. I reluctantly 
 turned my attention to the other group, nearer 
 to me; they were talking more loudly in 
 fact, in the high, quick tones of disputation.
 
 134 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 " I suppose " - it was the modern rifle that 
 was speaking " I suppose you rather pride 
 yourself upon your ancestry, do you not, Mr. 
 Flint-lock?" 
 
 " I certainly do," answered the Flint-lock. 
 " I have every reason to do so ; I belong 
 to a good old Revolutionary family." 
 
 The revolver, which was standing near, 
 cocked its trigger at this, and spoke in a 
 sharp, metallic voice. 
 
 " For my part," it said, " I believe in a 
 nobility of deeds, rather than of years, and 
 that of deeds performed by one's self, and 
 not by one's grandfather. Give me actions; 
 give me " 
 
 At this, quite a furor arose among the 
 weapons. 
 
 "And who are you?" asked the Indian 
 arrow-head, pointedly. '' What have you 
 done, that you speak of deeds so confidently? 
 Not one of us present but has seen more serv 
 ice, and taken part in more ' actions ' than 
 you ever dreamed of. And who is more 
 likely to perform deeds of valor than a weap 
 on with a record behind him, and a family 
 reputation to sustain? " 
 
 " A nice reputation your family has, I
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 135 
 
 declare," sneered the revolver. ' When one 
 thinks of the massacres in which you have 
 probably played a prominent part, and of the 
 atrocities committed by your cousins, the tom 
 ahawk and the war club, it is enough to 
 make a civilised, modern weapon feel rusty." 
 "Is it, indeed?" flung back the arrow 
 head. " Ah, no doubt * atrocities ' have al 
 ways been strictly confined to the uncivilised 
 nations. We have a monopoly of that sort 
 of thing of course. But, pardon me, Mr. 
 Revolver, what was that little affair in which 
 you were engaged a few years ago, near 
 Paris? A duel, was it not? or so called 
 by your principal. * Murder ' was the word 
 used by the boy's relatives, I believe. I may 
 relate the incident? Our friends will care to 
 hear it, I am sure. It was in a cafe, on the 
 outskirts of the city. There was a game of 
 cards a professional player a young boy 
 just from home the old story we have 
 all heard it. The boy was ruined, of course, 
 and he accused the other of foul play. 
 Everyone present knew he was right, and 
 every man in the room tried to keep the young 
 fellow from accepting the challenge thrown 
 at him by the gambler. But it was all to no
 
 136 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 purpose. In less than twenty minutes the 
 boy was lying dead, a bullet from a re 
 volver through his heart." 
 
 There was a silence of a moment or two, 
 then the revolver began to speak, sulkily. 
 
 " The affair has been very much misrepre 
 sented," he claimed. " The boy 
 
 It is dreadful to be such a sleepy-head as 
 I am. I simply can not keep awake at night, 
 no matter how exciting may be the occasion. 
 Once I was visiting at a country house at 
 home, and in the small hours I was awak 
 ened by hearing low voices outside my win 
 dow. " Thieves ! " I said to myself. " I 
 must get up instantly and alarm the family." 
 I turned over, the better to roll out of bed 
 and the next thing I knew the sun was shin 
 ing in my room, and it was morning. Prob 
 ably the voices were not those of burglars, as 
 nothing had been taken; but if they had been 
 it would have been just the same : I had fallen 
 asleep in the very act of going to arouse the 
 household. 
 
 Now, it may be believed that, interested 
 as I was in listening to the stories of the 
 weapons, I, nevertheless, dropped off to sleep 
 in the midst of their quarrel. When I awoke
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 137 
 
 again, they were gone. Only the Spanish 
 knives remained, and they were looking 
 drowsy, as well they might. 
 
 We have been talking about folk-lore, a sub 
 ject in which Mr. British Consul is absorb 
 ingly interested. Every evening after dinner 
 is over, our house servants dispose themselves 
 on the kitchen corridor, and there, until bed 
 time, they gossip and tell stories. Some of 
 them are very good story-tellers, as those usu 
 ally are who depend for their mental enter 
 tainment upon the spoken rather than the writ 
 ten word; but the curious part of it all is that 
 these legends which they recount, evening 
 after evening, are precisely the stories that 
 I listened to when I was a child precisely. 
 The first time that I heard these " cuentos " 
 was one night when I had been in the moun 
 tains only a short while, before we came down 
 to la casa nueva. I had something that I 
 wanted to say to Clara, and seeking the child, 
 I found her in the old kitchen, in the midst 
 of a group of servants all surrounding Fe 
 licia, and intently listening to her. It made 
 me think, a little, of what I have read of the 
 old " quarter " days in the south, when the
 
 138 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 negroes gathered together to hear the plan 
 tation stories. I sat down, with Clara in my 
 lap, and in the beginning was more interested 
 in the scene and the story-teller than in what 
 was being told. I listened, however, idly, 
 and presently I heard of course, in Span 
 ish 
 
 " And Brother Rabbit, he sat there, hid 
 ing under a tree. Then came along Mr. 
 Lion, and he says, very loud and fierce, ' Is 
 there anybody that will show me the way 
 across this river? ' Then Brother Fox came 
 loping up, and he says " 
 
 " Brother Fox ! " " Brother Rabbit ! " 
 " Mr. Lion ! " So these children of the 
 tropics had their Uncle Remus stories I 
 Well, that was not so very remarkable, per 
 haps; it is natural for people who live near 
 to Mother Earth to consider the animals as 
 members of their family, and to tell stories 
 about them. But what followed was not so 
 easy to explain. Where did these South 
 American natives get the notion of Cinder 
 ella and Goody Two Shoes, and Jack the 
 Giant Killer, and even the old story of Her 
 cules and his struggle with Antasus? Not 
 one of these people can read a word, yet, from
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 139 
 
 the eldest to the youngest they all know the 
 old stories, exactly as we have them. They 
 say that the tales were told to them by their 
 parents and their grandparents, but where 
 did the parents and the grandparents get 
 them? Never from books; we may be sure 
 of that. Through the Spaniards? It is 
 scarcely possible. I could hardly believe my 
 ears when I heard from Juana and Felicia the 
 familiar words in their unfamiliar Spanish; 
 it gives one a queer sensation to listen to the 
 fireside stories of home retold under the 
 Southern Cross. 
 
 I happened to speak of this last night at 
 dinner, and Mr. British Consul remarked that 
 it would be possible to have the same sensa 
 tion in many other parts of the earth. 
 
 " Comparative folk-lore is one of the most 
 interesting subjects in the world," he began. 
 
 " Now you've started him," Mrs. British 
 Consul stage-whispered. " Quien sabe when 
 he will stop? " 
 
 " There are certain stories, as there are 
 certain customs," went on the gentleman, 
 " which are almost universally known. A 
 comparison of the myths and legends of dif 
 ferent countries shows us that there is a prim-
 
 140 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 itive stage of culture through which all races 
 pass, and in which they resemble one another. 
 Folk stories are a survival of this period, 
 which may be called the childhood of the 
 world. When the Grimm brothers made 
 their collection of fairy tales, they gathered 
 from old libraries, from peasants' talk, from 
 years of inquiry through many lands. Goody 
 Two Shoes, Jack the Giant Killer, Red Rid 
 ing Hood, Cinderella and other familiar tales 
 were repeated to children before the English 
 language was known." 
 
 " But who invented the myths, in the first 
 place? " asked Mrs. Martin, out of the good 
 ness of her heart. 
 
 Mr. British Consul fairly beamed. 
 " They originated in various ways," he made 
 haste to answer, delightedly. " Some of 
 them are probably versions of the Scripture 
 narratives; some have an historical origin, 
 as when real persons have been deified after 
 their death; some are truths which were orig 
 inally taught in the form of allegories, but 
 which, later, came to be understood literally; 
 and some are undoubtedly of physical origin 
 that is, the elements fire, water, and so 
 on were objects of religious worship, and
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 141 
 
 the powers of nature came to be personi 
 fied." 
 
 Mrs. British Consul sighed plaintively 
 I suppose she had heard it all so many times 
 before. When Don Pepe who under 
 stands English, though he does not speak it, 
 and who had been listening interestedly to 
 Mr. British Consul now offered a remark, 
 the lady turned to him with a relieved and 
 cordial smile. 
 
 " Among the tribes of the interior of Co 
 lombia," said Don Pepe; " tribes who have 
 never known the white man -- I have seen the 
 Indian children playing the games of Euro 
 peans, such as ball, hide and seek, peg top, 
 and cat's cradle." 
 
 Mr. British Consul seized upon this, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Oh, yes; " he attested; " I have no doubt 
 of it. A collection of the toys and games of 
 children, for centuries past, throws great 
 light on the history of civilisation. Some 
 games, as chess, for instance " 
 
 He ceased abruptly; his face grew red; 
 tears filled his eyes; he seemed about to choke. 
 
 " A-chu ! " he sneezed violently. " A-chui 
 A-chu."
 
 H2 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 " God bless you ! " invoked Mrs. British 
 Consul, laughing. 
 
 Now, only an enthusiast would have main 
 tained his interest at such a moment as that. 
 Still wiping his eyes, Mr. British Consul 
 turned to his wife 
 
 " Do you know why you said, ' God bless 
 you? ' " he demanded. 
 
 " Why did I say it? " returned Mrs. Brit 
 ish Consul, surprised. " Why, everyone says 
 it." 
 
 "But why?" insisted the man with a 
 hobby. 
 
 " Quien sabef " she answered, in the fash 
 ion of the country. 
 
 " Because," he informed her, desiring noth 
 ing better than to answer his own question; 
 " because it was once supposed that he who 
 sneezed was trying to cast out a devil by 
 whom he was possessed, and the pious, ' God 
 bless you ! ' meant - -' May God help you in 
 your effort! ' " 
 
 Everyone laughed. And then again we 
 laughed, as Mrs. British Consul said, feel 
 ingly, 
 
 " It is the only interesting thing I have 
 ever known you to say on that subject."
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 143 
 
 August ijth. 
 
 The banana boat is in. We sighted it 
 through the field glass, before it entered the 
 Bay yesterday afternoon, and we can see it, 
 now, lying at its dock in Santa Marta. Mr. 
 and Mrs. British Consul went down this 
 morning, to attend to correspondence, and 
 the possible needs of an improbable arrival 
 from any part of the British Empire. An 
 arriero has just brought up our mail from 
 the steamer, and with it a letter from Kent, 
 who is now in Santa Marta, but who sends the 
 astonishing news that he is going to Bogota. 
 
 He says " I think I ought to visit the 
 capital, and learn something of the interior 
 of the country before I decide whether or not 
 to invest in coffee land on the coast. Be 
 sides, I'd like to see a South American Repub 
 lic during a revolution, and this is as good an 
 opportunity as I'll ever have. If the rest 
 of Colombia is as much like a comic opera as 
 Santa Marta is, it would be a pity to miss any 
 of it. Hasta la vista. (until we meet 
 again) Estoy (I am) off for Bogota! "
 
 144 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 October ist. 
 
 When one teaches all the morning, works 
 in a garden every minute of the afternoon 
 that it is not raining, and goes to bed soon 
 after eight at night, I suppose the record 
 of one's days does seem, to an outsider, to 
 be rather a dull one. I am sure my friends 
 at home believe that if I have not already 
 turned into a cabbage, I shall do so before 
 many more weks of this plantation existence 
 have passed over my head. From their let 
 ters I can see that those who think I do not 
 know any better than to lead such a life as 
 this are pitying me, and that they who credit 
 me with understanding what I am doing are 
 censuring me for it. Every one writes me 
 " I should think you would die of the loneli 
 ness and quiet! " Loneliness? They do not 
 realise how often but I will speak of that 
 later. Quiet? Which of them has been 
 stung by a scorpion, and has barely escaped 
 the bite of a tarantula, both in one day? 
 None, I am positive. But to me these things 
 have happened. 
 
 A scorpion is very like a lobster a lob 
 ster reduced to a length of from one to
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 145 
 
 four inches. It stings with its tail, and at 
 the moment of contact its victim is ready 
 to believe that it is a lobster of full size and 
 strength that has done the work. On the 
 coast, where it is hot, the scorpion's sting 
 often produces fever; but up here it is only 
 unpleasant. 
 
 One morning, as I was dressing, I put my 
 arm into the sleeve of my waist, and' in 
 stantly felt as if a large needle had been 
 run full length into my shoulder. I tore off 
 my waist, and a scorpion about an inch long 
 dropped to the floor. I put my foot on it, 
 and then I flew into Mrs. Martin's room. 
 
 " O-o-o ! " I cried; " I have been stung by 
 a scorpion ! " Mrs. Martin quickly put 
 ammonia on the spot, and then she brought 
 me rum a great deal of rum. " Drink 
 it! " she commanded. 
 
 "All that?" 
 
 ' Yes, yes ! You won't feel it. Drink it 
 at once ! " 
 
 So I did. Fancy all that rum on an empty 
 stomach ! Mr. Martin says it was enough to 
 have made him dizzy, but as La Nina Eva 
 had promised, I did not feel the slightest ef-
 
 146 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 feet from it. The rest of that day my arm 
 was a little swollen and painful, and that was 
 all. 
 
 Then, that very afternoon, I was almost 
 bitten by a tarantula. I was sitting on a log 
 back of the house, when suddenly I beheld 
 the thing walking towards me. I had seen 
 one before, but it was dead the men had 
 killed it in the woods, and Don Pepe had 
 brought it in. I had thought, then, that if I 
 should ever be in the path of a live one, I 
 should be paralysed with fright, and so I 
 was. If it had been running along the ground, 
 I think it would not have been so fearsome, 
 but its very deliberateness as it stalked to 
 wards me gave a menacing, sinister character 
 to its approach that chilled my blood, and 
 took from me all power to move. It stood 
 so high above the ground, too quite four 
 inches, I should think putting one of its 
 black, hairy legs before the other, slowly, 
 slowly, but always in my direction. I sat as 
 if in a nightmare, seeing the creature draw 
 ing nearer and nearer, but absolutely unable 
 to get up and run away. At last it was within 
 three feet of me, and I had heard the natives 
 say that tarantulas will sometimes make great
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 147 
 
 jumps to attack a person. It was now or 
 never. I made a desperate effort, rose from 
 the log, sprang to one side, and ran to the 
 house. There I first sank weakly onto a 
 chair, and then I made such a furor that the 
 entire household gathered in alarm. When 
 I explained, the excitement instantly faded 
 away. Only a tarantula ! One of the serv 
 ants said, afterwards, that she had supposed, 
 from my manner, that it had been a tigre 
 (tiger). But it was the first tarantula I had 
 ever seen alive and it was coming towards 
 me so slowly and so surely. I have seen 
 two others, since that day, and I have held 
 my ground and thrown stones at them. This 
 one, at least, will never frighten me again. 
 We all went out, with sticks, between two 
 of which we caught the tarantula as if in a 
 pair of tongs, and it is now curled up in a 
 bottle of alcohol. 
 
 These little incidents should convince the 
 most sceptical that life at El Cafetal is not 
 altogether monotonous. If nothing is actu 
 ally happening at the moment, at least there 
 are always possibilities, and one can never 
 be sure what adventures the day is going to 
 hold.
 
 148 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 Now, as to the loneliness, I have only one 
 remark to make, and that is, simply that 
 I am not lonely. Does it matter so much 
 how many people there are? I have grown 
 very fond of La Nina Eva, and of Mr. Mar 
 tin and the children. Also, we have guests, 
 even up here; never a week goes by that one 
 does not come riding to our door, and often 
 there are several. This, however, is equivo 
 cation; I suppose the real reason why I am 
 not homesick is Don Roberto. He is here 
 very often, and he does not pretend that he 
 comes for anything in the world but to see 
 me. I do not know whether or not a man 
 of his race can keep his feelings out of his 
 eyes if he tries. Don Roberto does not try, 
 and I see in those brown eyes of his that 
 which makes me well contented in the 
 wilderness. 
 
 Of course nothing could ever come of this; 
 in race, religion and country we are too widely 
 divided. He must realise it as well as I 
 do, so that I do not feel guilty in letting mat 
 ters drift on. He likes to come here, and to 
 talk to me with the most expressive eyes I 
 ever saw. I like to have him come, and I 
 find the messages of the eyes very pleasant
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 149 
 
 ones. That is all there can be no danger 
 for either of us; and as the Latin race is 
 proverbially a fickle one, he will probably be 
 the first to stop caring. 
 
 In the meantime, I could not go home if 
 I wished. The revolution has taken a fresh 
 impulse, and conditions on the coast are 
 chaotic in the extreme. The liberals seem 
 to be winning; they have just captured the 
 entire navy of Colombia, a boat which was 
 formerly the private yacht of one of our 
 American millionaires. Of course, this is a 
 great loss to the government; the more so as 
 there is a rumor that the liberals are about 
 to bombard Santa Marta. The Department 
 of Coast Defence has been thrown into a 
 great state of excitement the coast defences 
 being several old and very rusty cannon on 
 the Morro. Long as these guns have been in 
 position, it seems that the gunners have not 
 yet learned how to handle them, for one of 
 the foreign residents, who is something of a 
 practical engineer, has been sent for in haste, 
 and entreated by the distracted defenders to 
 show them how to manage their artillery. 
 
 The liberals have burned bridges, and 
 taken possession of the little railroad, and
 
 150 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 have fought the government troops very near 
 Santa Marta. An attack on that town is 
 daily expected, and the approaches to all the 
 streets are barricaded. The banana boats 
 are not running, and no one knows when they 
 will be. No bananas can be brought in from 
 the plantations for shipment, so the agent 
 of the United Fruit Company sent word by 
 the last boat that was here that there would 
 be no use in sending another until he let them 
 know. As there are no steamers, of course 
 there is no mail, coming or going. The only 
 possible way to send letters is by some one 
 who may be going to Barranquilla in a sail 
 boat, and perhaps some mail will be brought 
 over from there in the same way. There has 
 been no regular communication with Barran 
 quilla in three weeks. 
 
 No word has come from Kent since he 
 started for Bogota, and as few, if any, Mag- 
 dalena boats are running now, quien sabe 
 when shall we hear from him? He should 
 have reached the capital long before this 
 if he found a steamer going up when he ar 
 rived at Baranquilla; but if the liberals hold 
 the Magdalena, it may be months before he 
 will be able to get down to the coast again.
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 151 
 
 This revolution is the most comical tragedy, 
 and the most tragic comedy that it is possible 
 to conceive, and no one could conceive it who 
 has not lived in a South American Republic. 
 
 When Mr. Martin came in to breakfast, 
 this noon, he changed his field jacket for a 
 house one, as he always does, and hung the 
 field jacket over a chair in his room. We 
 had finished the meal, but were still sitting at 
 the table, talking idly, when suddenly Mr. 
 Martin exclaimed, 
 
 " Caramba! I almost forgot ! Miss 
 Parnell, will you go and put your hand into 
 the pocket of my jacket, and see what you 
 find?" 
 
 Of course I went. I put in my thumb, and 
 pulled out a tiny, wee potato. 
 
 " Oh ! " I cried, in great excitement, run 
 ning back into the dining-room. " Are they 
 ripe?" 
 
 "Ripe," mocked Mr. Martin. "Who 
 ever heard of a ripe potato? If you mean, 
 are they large enough to be dug up ? no, 
 they are not; they are small yet, like this one. 
 But I think you may be able to pick them 
 from the bushes by Thanksgiving if you have 
 good luck."
 
 152 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 He may laugh as much as he pleases; the 
 potatoes are really coming on, and that is all 
 I care. As for my kitchen garden, it is my 
 joy and pride. Yesterday I picked the first 
 beans. Putting up the poles for those beans 
 was hard work. There were sixty of them, 
 and I dug the holes and did everything my 
 self; but yesterday's picking, and to-day's and 
 the thought of all the pickings that are to 
 come, very much more than compensate me. 
 The beets and the onions are doing finely, and 
 the cabbages are " heading up." Outside 
 my wire fence I have put in one hundred and 
 ninety-two tomato plants, and there are, al 
 ready, quantities of little green tomatoes on 
 them. These plants have to be tied up to 
 stout sticks, and I have discovered that shreds 
 of dry banana leaves make excellent strings, 
 and do not rot in wet weather. 
 
 October ijth. 
 
 Coffee is such a pretty thing ! when it is 
 growing, I mean. The trees are planted in 
 rows hundreds and thousands of rows. 
 If they were let alone they would grow to 
 about twenty feet in height; but they are kept 
 down to about eight or ten feet so that the
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 153 
 
 berries can be more easily reached at picking 
 time. 
 
 When I came to El Cafetal, last June, all 
 the coffee berries were green; now many of 
 them are dark red, like cherries, and the effect 
 as they are seen against the glossy leaves of 
 the trees, is very striking. It is not, how 
 ever, the beauty of the berries that is their 
 most important claim to our attention just now ; 
 it is the fact that when they are red they are 
 ripe and ready to be picked. Already the 
 harvesting has begun, but as the coffee does 
 not all ripen at once, the gathering will go on 
 from now until January. The berries are 
 picked, one by one, by men, women and chil 
 dren, the last two entering into the work with 
 the greatest gusto, as it is the opportunity of 
 the year for them to earn something. All 
 over the place, now, groups of vie j as, much- 
 achas and nihas (old women, young women 
 and little girls) may be seen, harvesting bus 
 ily, the while they laugh and gossip and ap 
 pear to enjoy themselves. They make so 
 light an affair of the picking that I thought 
 it must be pleasant work, and that I would 
 try it. I took a small pail and went gaily out 
 to some trees near the house; but in about
 
 154 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 half an hour I returned, hot, weary and 
 greatly cast down, in that I had gathered dur 
 ing what seemed to me an eternity, and the 
 pail was not yet full. I have decided that I 
 would rather teach, or even put up poles for 
 beans. A good picker harvests three bushels 
 a day, and earns fifty cents; some gather as 
 much as six bushels a day, but this is rare. 
 One bushel of berries will give ten pounds 
 of cleaned coffee. The beans must be pulped 
 the same day that they are picked, or they 
 will commence to ferment in the pulp, and 
 stain the coffee. From the pulper the grains 
 go into the fermenting tanks, where they are 
 allowed to ferment from twenty-four to 
 eighty hours, in order to take off a sweet, 
 gummy substance which is on the hull. After 
 the coffee is properly fermented, it is washed 
 in several waters, and then laid out in the 
 sun to dry. When it is dried, it has to be 
 put through the huller, which takes off the 
 silvery skin, and then, at last, the bean is 
 as we see it in the market. 
 
 As we are so large a family, there are 
 always freshly-washed clothes hanging out 
 to dry, and as the coffee crop is constantly 
 coming on, there is always some coffee spread
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 155 
 
 out in the sun. Every afternoon, therefore, 
 when the rain begins, there are excited shouts 
 of, "Bring in the clothes!" and "Take in 
 the coffee! " and for a time, daily, we have 
 scenes of the wildest hurry and confusion. 
 
 November 131)1. 
 
 We are now in the worst of the rainy 
 season, which becomes more and more severe 
 as it draws towards its close. In less than 
 a month, probably, the days will be all blue 
 sky and sunshine, but at present even our 
 brilliant forenoons have deserted us. By ten 
 o'clock in the morning the clouds gather, and 
 the fog rolls up the valley, blotting out even 
 the nearest rancho. There is no riding forth 
 on paseos, Sunday mornings; Mrs. Martin 
 and I can not go out to dig for Indian 
 treasure; it is scarcely possible for me to 
 work in my garden. I can imagine that if 
 we were now in the old house, where there 
 was no glass in the windows, and the doors 
 did not shut properly, everything would be 
 very damp and shivery. This must be the 
 weather to which El Senior Consul referred 
 when he was trying to convince me that it 
 would be folly to go into the mountains.
 
 156 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 To me it seems incredible that any one can 
 feel that happiness or unhappiness depends 
 upon external circumstances. People who 
 are glad or miserable, according as they are 
 hot or cold, or wet or dry, or have the 
 things they like to eat, or do not have them, 
 either do not know have never known 
 what happiness means, or else their time of 
 felicity has gone by, and they are left to the 
 dull common-places of mere physical being. 
 To the former, I always greatly desire to re 
 veal what they have been missing; for the 
 latter I am afraid there is very little hope. 
 If I am unhappy, I am unhappy, and the 
 most paradisiacal outward conditions do not 
 comfort me. On the other hand, if I am 
 really happy, nor heat, nor cold, nor wet, nor 
 drought has power to touch me. I knew, 
 that day when El Senor Consul was talking 
 to me, that all those things would make no 
 difference. I might have been muy infeliz 
 (very unhappy) up here, but it would not 
 have been on account of the climate. As it 
 is, I am contented, and to be contented means 
 a great deal. It signifies that I am glad 
 of each day, exactly as it comes, and that I
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 157 
 
 do not want anything to be other than just 
 as it is. 
 
 As we can not go out, in these days, Don 
 Roberto and I have endless conversations 
 in front of the open fire in the sola. We 
 talk of life in England, with which I have 
 had no acquaintance, but that has furnished 
 the conditions of Don Roberto's environment 
 since he was a little boy; of life in the United 
 States, a country that Don Roberto can never 
 hear enough about, and concerning which 
 he asks ten thousand questions; of Bogota, 
 Don Roberto's birthplace, but which I know 
 so very much better than he does; of Colom 
 bia in general, Santa Marta, the Sierra Ne- 
 vadas, coffee. Then we roam over the world 
 its history, its literature, its ethics until, 
 with the tea cups, we usually begin to talk 
 of ourselves. 
 
 Sometimes, after one of these long inter 
 changes of thought, I wonder if, after all, 
 differences in race and religion and country 
 are as fundamental as I have believed them 
 to be; or if, perhaps, back of them all, and 
 beyond them all, the heart of a man is not 
 the same the world over. And does any 
 thing else matter?
 
 158 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 December ist. 
 
 A week ago we were making modest prep 
 arations for a quiet little Thanksgiving din 
 ner all by ourselves. The fatted turkey was 
 ready to be offered up (that is, we were ready 
 to offer him), and some of my new potatoes 
 had been " picked from the bushes " to bear 
 him company. Then, on the Tuesday be 
 fore, to our great surprise, we received an 
 invitation from the Ansons to spend the holi 
 day with them at " Las Selvas," their place 
 n the next valley. It seemed to us very odd 
 that the Ansons should be going into the 
 mountains in November, in the end of the 
 rainy season, when in so short a time the 
 weather will be perfect. If they wanted to 
 celebrate Thanksgiving, why did they not 
 do it in Santa Marta? Or if they desired 
 a house party at " Las Selvas," why did they 
 not wait until Christmas? Each one of us, 
 including Don Roberto who was here 
 when Mrs. Anson's note was brought up, and 
 who had received one just like it himself 
 asked these questions of each of the others, 
 so that in all they were repeated twelve times. 
 Then we all said to all the others, " Qu'ien 
 sabe? " and after that we decided to accept
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 159 
 
 the invitation first, and to trust that we might 
 find out the reasons for it afterward. We 
 were requested to arrive on Wednesday, and 
 to remain until Thanksgiving afternoon, and 
 we felt obliged to question one another again, 
 all around, as to why we had not been asked 
 to stay over until Friday. 
 
 Wednesday morning Mrs. Martin and I 
 packed our fiesta (festival) clothes in bags 
 and suit cases, and Mr. Martin inspected the 
 straps and fastenings of the saddles and 
 bridles of our mules, for he knew that the 
 road to be gone over was a bad one. Don 
 Roberto came about eleven o'clock, and at 
 half past twelve, after an early and hasty 
 breakfast, we four left El Cafetal. Each 
 of us rode a mule; and another mule, in 
 charge of an arriero on foot, carried our 
 luggage. 
 
 The trail through the forest, over the 
 mountains into the next valley, is an old 
 Indian route, overgrown for centuries, and 
 partially cut out only a few weeks ago; and 
 it is the worst road I ever saw, except some 
 few parts of the pass between Honda and 
 Bogota. Again and again we had to get 
 off our mules and let the animals pick their
 
 160 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 way as best they could, while we did the s.ame, 
 on foot. Twenty times it seemed as if we 
 must break our necks. We were tangled up 
 in vines; we stumbled over logs; we went 
 sliding down steep places, and crawling up 
 the sides of almost perpendicular ones. 
 Sometimes the trail was so narrow that it 
 did not seem possible that a mule's four feet 
 could all be on it at once, and then I hastily 
 repeated to myself the saying that if a mule 
 has only three feet over a precipice, with 
 one on the firm earth, he will scramble back 
 into the road. Many times the luggage had 
 all to be taken off the cargo mule and carried 
 across bad bits, piece by piece, on the arrlero's 
 back. Once or twice it really semed doubt 
 ful whether we should get through or not; 
 but at last, just at sunset, we emerged from 
 the forest and came out onto the edge of the 
 "Las Selvas " clearing; two hundred thou 
 sand coffee trees were spread out before us, 
 and we were within sight of the house. We 
 all shouted at once, and Mr. Anson and 
 Harry Hunter came running out to greet us. 
 Arrived at the house, we found all the 
 rest of the foreign colony of the Sierra Ne- 
 vadas and Santa Marta assembled, and there
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 161 
 
 were even a Mr. and Mrs. King, a clergyman 
 and his wife, from Barranquilla. Really, it 
 was awfully good of the Ansons coming 
 up at this season, and sacrificing themselves 
 to make an American holiday. 
 
 "What is Thanksgiving?" Don Roberto 
 had asked me on the way over, and the 
 question had, for the time, spoiled my pleas 
 ure in the trip. My thoughts had gone back 
 over the years, to all the Thanksgivings that 
 I could remember, since I was so little that 
 I had to be carried, sound asleep, from the 
 table to my bed. These festivals are part 
 of my life, and of the life of my forefathers, 
 back to the days of the colonies, and they are 
 significant of a great deal more than the 
 mere holidays themselves. The fact that I 
 have Thanksgiving days to remember means 
 that I was born in a Thanksgiving land, of 
 Thanksgiving ancestry, in a Thanksgiving 
 atmosphere, as the day stands for a new 
 world, a free people, and individuality of 
 thought and conscience. What would it be 
 to live the rest of my life with one to whom 
 Thanksgiving had to be explained? It was 
 only an instant that this was in my mind, 
 but it sufficed to make me wish that Don
 
 162 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 Roberto's native town were Boston instead 
 of Bogota. 
 
 I forgot it during the evening. It was a 
 cosmopolitan gathering, and there was very 
 little in the atmosphere to remind me of the 
 land where my fathers died, land of the 
 Pilgrims' pride. Every one talked coffee, 
 just as usual; that is, every one who was 
 not talking bananas. I was intent upon 
 Baby and Harry Hunter. They were not 
 much together, but it seemed to me that there 
 was something in their attitude to each other 
 that had not been there last July; and once 
 I saw an " understanding " look pass between 
 them that made me feel certain that Harry 
 had, so far, prospered in his wooing. No 
 one else noticed it, I think; no one else, per 
 haps, was looking through the eyes of the 
 heart, just then, as I was. 
 
 Before seven o'clock on Thursday 
 Thanksgiving we were all up and out of 
 doors. Such a morning ! Brilliant, radiant 
 sunshine the air just warmly cool it was 
 like a perfect summer's day in the Adiron- 
 dacks. It seemed as if the dry season had 
 come on over night, for during all that holi 
 day the sky was blue, and there was not a
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 163 
 
 cloud in the universe. " Queen's weather, 
 by Jove!" said the Englishmen; but we 
 Americans, remembering what day it was, 
 exchanged glances, smilingly; ive knew why 
 the rainy season had unconditionally sur 
 rendered. 
 
 We had been told that the dinner was to 
 be at twelve, as, in fact, it would need to 
 be if we were all to return home that day. 
 We had the morning coffee leisurely, then 
 most of us went out again, and wandered 
 about, viewing the plantation. The men got 
 up some sports, running, jumping and shoot 
 ing; and Mrs. British Consul and I, who 
 had brought cameras, photographed every 
 one several times over. About eleven we re 
 turned to the house to dress for dinner, and 
 at half past eleven we were all assembled in 
 our fiesta clothes out on the wide corridor. 
 Baby and Harry Hunter were standing to 
 gether, a little apart; I thought I had never 
 seen her look so dear and sweet, nor Harry 
 so earnest and manly. Presently Mr. King, 
 the clergyman from Barranquilla, walked 
 over towards the two; he stopped as he came 
 to them; and then could we believe our 
 ears?
 
 164 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 "Dearly beloved" the clergyman was 
 saying " we are gathered together here, 
 in the sight of God, and in the face of this 
 company, to join together this man and this 
 woman in holy matrimony." 
 
 There was the lightest, faintest sound, as 
 if every one present had drawn a quick breath 
 at the same moment; then perfect silence, 
 and the service went on. " To have and to 
 hold, from this day forward, for better, for 
 worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and 
 in health, to love and to cherish, till death 
 us do part." 
 
 When it came to, " I, Margaret, take thee, 
 Henry," I looked around to see where " Mar 
 garet " was, before I realized that, of course, 
 that must be Baby's name. Well; as 
 Mrs. Henry Hunter, " Baby " would no 
 longer be a fitting appellative. 
 
 ' Those whom God hath joined together, 
 let no man put asunder. I pronounce thee 
 man and wife. Amen." 
 
 So this was the reason! With every one 
 talking and laughing at once, we somehow 
 came to understand that an uncle of Harry's, 
 over in England, had died. The uncle had 
 not exactly left Harry a title and an enor-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 165 
 
 mous fortune, as would have happened in 
 " the old three-decker," but he had be 
 queathed to his nephew " a tidy little place 
 in Surrey," as the young Englishman put it, 
 and there remained nothing for the grateful 
 legatee to do but to go home and live there. 
 And Baby-- I mean Margaret who had 
 not known her own mind as long as Harry 
 was within a mule-ride of her, had arrived at 
 the truth very promptly when he came to tell 
 her that he was going thousands of miles 
 away. The steamer that had come in from 
 Barranquilla had brought the news to Harry; 
 everything had been planned in a few hours; 
 Baby had absolutely refused to be married 
 in Santa Marta ("horrid, gossipy place!" 
 she declared it), hence the hurried flitting 
 to " Las Selvas." And as for the time set 
 for the guests' departure, the hosts themselves 
 were returning to Santa Marta immediately 
 after the banquet, for Mr. and Mrs. Hunter 
 were to sail away on the steamer that very 
 evening. 
 
 Just at twelve we sat down to the Thanks 
 giving dinner, which had so suddenly become 
 a wedding breakfast. It must have been 
 about fifteen minutes later, I should think,
 
 166 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 when suddenly there was a great clattering 
 of hoofs, outside, then a quick step across 
 the corridor; the door opened and there 
 was Kent. Such a day of exciting sur 
 prises ! For the moment, the bride and 
 groom were forgotten. We all jumped up 
 and surrounded Kent, shaking hands, ex 
 claiming and asking questions; but he laugh 
 ingly waved us back to our seats, and made 
 a place for himself at the table, saying com 
 ically, " Tengo (I have) hungry, mucho 
 hungry ! " We gave him, hastily, everything 
 in sig s t, and then we demanded explana 
 tions. Where had he come from? How 
 did he get here? Why hadn't he come be 
 fore? Who had told him about the wed 
 ding? for not a soul in Santa Marta had 
 known of it. 
 
 With the quickness of light Kent stopped 
 eating and looked around the table until his 
 eyes met mine. 
 
 : ' What wedding?" he asked, keenly. 
 
 There was a chorus of shouts, but above 
 it Mr. Anson finally succeeded in making 
 himself heard. 
 
 " Mr. Winthrop," he said, rising from his 
 seat, and bowing to Kent, and then towards
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 167 
 
 Baby and Harry; "I have the pleasure of 
 introducing you to Mr. and Mrs. Henry 
 Maxwell Hunter." 
 
 When Kent went around to their end of 
 the table and offered his congratulations, he 
 told Baby and Harry that he had never been 
 more pleased in his life, and I believe that 
 he spoke only the literal truth when he said 
 it. 
 
 After that we heard his story. He had 
 come down from Bogota and reached Bar- 
 ranquilla on Tuesday. To have come over 
 to Santa Marta by the usual way he would 
 have had to wait several days, so he had 
 hired a covered canoe and had himself poled 
 over through the canos. 
 
 " I was nearly eaten alive by mosquitoes," 
 he told us, with a retrospective shudder. 
 " Couldn't stay inside the covered part, be 
 cause if I'd smoked in there I'd have choked, 
 so I sat up in the open end all night, smoking 
 to keep away what I could of the mosquitoes, 
 and expecting every minute that I'd go to 
 sleep and drop overboard, and be quietly 
 swallowed by an alligator in the darkness. 
 I got to Santa Marta this morning at seven 
 o'clock, went right to Anson's, was told every-
 
 168 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 body was up here, so I got a mule and came 
 on." 
 
 " But what was your mad haste, my dear 
 fellow, as you knew nothing of the wedding? 
 Why didn't you wait and come over in the 
 steamer? It would have been a matter of 
 only a few days longer." 
 
 This was from Don Roberto. Kent 
 looked at him in amazement. " A few days 
 longer?" he repeated. "A few days 
 longer! Why, I've moved heaven and earth 
 since before I left Bogota to get here for 
 Thanksgiving ! " 
 
 As soon as dinner was over, every one 
 began to make preparations for departure. 
 I was ready before the others, and I went 
 out onto the corridor to wait. In a moment 
 or two I was joined by the disagreeable Eng 
 lishman. He does not mean to be disagree 
 able; he was born so. 
 
 " Well, Miss Parnell," he said, " the wed 
 ding was quite a surprise, wasn't it?" 
 
 " It was, indeed," I agreed with him. 
 
 " But don't you think, really now, that in 
 ternational marriages are hazardous?" 
 
 " Not at all," I said, at once, combatively; 
 "why should they be?"
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 169 
 
 " Think of the difference in associations 
 and national traditions," he urged. " They'd 
 always be coming up, I fancy, and keeping 
 the two from entirely understanding each 
 other, don't you know? " 
 
 How irritating of the man to voice what 
 had always been exactly my own belief! 
 Nothing in the world would have induced me 
 to say that I thought as he did, so I was 
 obliged to invent new opinions on the spot, 
 and to turn all my mental cubby holes inside 
 out in a hasty search for refuting arguments. 
 It was fortunate that during the past few 
 weeks I had really and honestly been giving 
 the other side of the question a good deal 
 of consideration, for thus I had something to 
 start on. 
 
 " Such differences are entirely superficial," 
 I began, assertively. " They could never 
 affect the inner life of happily married per 
 sons. The really essential elements of sym 
 pathy between two people are far deeper than 
 similarities of early environment. Below the 
 unimportant externals, men and women are 
 very much alike, whatever their race or coun 
 try. I am sure you will admit that - 
 
 " Sefiorita," interrupted Don Roberto,
 
 1 70 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 courteously; "pardon me, but Mrs. Martin 
 is enquiring for you, indoors." 
 
 ' For this relief much thanks,' " I mur 
 mured as I walked away from the disagreea 
 ble Englishman; but the next instant I had 
 reason to change my mind. 
 
 " I heard every voord you said," Don Ro 
 berto exulted, the moment we were alone; 
 " and I never knew anything so convincing 
 in my life! " 
 
 Every one was ready to go. The Santa 
 Marta people started away first, Baby riding 
 by her husband's side, as though the two were 
 already beginning life's journey together; 
 then we, calling after the bride and groom 
 good-byes and good wishes, turned our mules 
 westward and came again across the moun 
 tain, back to our own valley. 
 
 December jth. 
 
 Kent has come up to El Cafetal again, as 
 it seems that, in spite of endless hours of 
 conversation about coffee, he finds there are 
 yet many aspects of that subject which he 
 wishes to talk over with Mr. Martin. He 
 has about decided to buy land somewhere 
 in this region, and he is going on an explor-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 171 
 
 ing expedition up the valley as soon as the 
 dry season really sets in. One thing, at least, 
 he has learned from the trip to Bogota, and 
 that is, to make no investment away from the 
 coast. 
 
 " At present," Kent says, " the situation 
 of the coffee growers of the interior is one 
 of the most disheartening I ever knew in my 
 life. Think of having fine crops all har 
 vested thousands of bags ready for export 
 and absolutely no way of getting the stuff 
 down to the coast. And it's now the third 
 year of that sort of thing; every coffee man 
 I met was on the verge of ruin, if he hadn't 
 already gone under." 
 
 " The Magdalena boats seem to be run 
 ning pretty regularly, now," remarked Mr. 
 Martin. 
 
 " Yes, the government has given them over 
 to the Company again, but the freight charges 
 are enormous; they're trying to get back 
 something of what they've lost by the war - 
 making up for lost time. It costs about as 
 much, now, to get coffee from the interior 
 to New York as it brings when it reaches 
 there. Until just lately the government has 
 controlled all the transportation, and the con-
 
 i;2 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 sequence has been that the coffee of particular 
 friends of those in power has been forwarded 
 and the rest has been put on one side. All 
 the way between Bogota and Honda there is 
 coffee that has been side-tracked for that of 
 some partisan of the government, and in 
 Honda, thousands and thousands of bags are 
 stored. It's been lying there nobody knows 
 how long, and the grains are all blanqueado 
 (white). If it ever reaches the coast it 
 won't be fit to export, so it's a dead loss, any 
 way. I met a man in Bogota a Colom 
 bian owner of a large plantation, who told 
 me that he was actually thinking of offering 
 the government half of his profits if it would 
 guarantee him the safe shipment of his coffee 
 to New York. A few foreigners are going 
 down from Bogota to Honda with each mule 
 cargo of their coffee. The government 
 doesn't dare to interfere with them, or seize 
 their mules, as it would those of a Colom 
 bian; but even then there are the passage 
 down the river, and the freight to be con 
 sidered. Really, it's a frightful condition of 
 affairs. There are fine plantations, all 
 through the interior, selling for one-tenth of 
 what they'd be worth if the country were
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 173 
 
 in a settled state, and I saw some haciendas 
 that have been entirely abandoned the 
 houses and crops and thousands of dollars* 
 worth of machinery going to ruin." 
 
 " But you say you think the revolution has 
 about played itself out " 
 
 " Oh, yes; I don't see how it can possibly 
 last any longer. The country is utterly ex 
 hausted in men, money, ships - Kent 
 laughed, for we have told him the story of 
 the navy and the coast defenders. :< I really 
 think it's about over. But that won't im 
 prove the coffee situation, in the interior. 
 The minute things are in anything like a 
 normal condition again, and the road between 
 Bogota and Honda isn't infested with guer 
 rillas, and mules are more or less safe 
 there'll be such a rush of coffee to the coast 
 that there won't be mules enough to carry 
 it to Honda; the river boats will have more 
 than they can handle, and they'll charge any 
 price they like. And even after the con 
 gestion is over, and things are readjusted, 
 who knows how long the country is going 
 to be quiet? A new revolution may break 
 out any minute, and then you have all the 
 trouble begun again."
 
 174 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 " Graclas (thanks) d Dios," said Mr. 
 Martin, "El Cafetal is where the coffee can 
 be sent to the coast in five hours, on our 
 own mules, revolution or no revolution ! " 
 
 " Quiero (I want) an El Cafetal of my 
 own," declared Kent. 
 
 His ear has become familiar with all sorts 
 of Spanish words and phrases since he has 
 been in Colombia, and he intersperses his 
 conversation with them as the children do 
 theirs with English, with the same quaint and 
 comical results. 
 
 'There's such a lot of difference," Kent 
 observes, " between learning a language in 
 school, and learning it in the country where 
 it's spoken. On the Magdalena I picked up 
 the Spanish for alligator and monkey and 
 heat and mosquito net, and I know how to 
 tell an arriero to saddle my mule, and what 
 " Alto ahi! Qulen vive? " means. But if 
 I wanted to say, I have the pen, thou hast 
 the pen, he has the pen; or, Where is the 
 book of your father's sister? I couldn't do it." 
 
 "That's just it," I said; "you'll never 
 want to do it. Before I went to Europe, I 
 had studied French, in school, for years, and 
 I supposed I knew enough of it to get along
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 175 
 
 where French was spoken. Well, one day, 
 when my aunt and I were in Geneva, we 
 wanted to take a drive along the lake shore, 
 and before we started I gave the direction 
 to the coachman. We drove off, but in a 
 few minutes we found that we were going 
 straight back into the country, away from 
 the lake as fast as possible. We stopped the 
 driver, and I explained that we wanted to 
 be near the water, to see the water, to enjoy 
 the view of the water, and that we did not 
 care to go into the country, back from the 
 town, away from the water. The man 
 seemed to understand me, and we drove on 
 again, but in exactly the same direction as 
 we had been going before. ' Tell him,' said 
 my aunt, ' that we want to drive by the lake. 
 Surely you must know the word for lake; 
 you took the French prize in school one 
 year, didn't you ? ' ' Yes,' I said, ' and of 
 course I can say a simple thing like that. He 
 is a dreadfully stupid man, that is all.' Then 
 I called again to the driver, and I told him, 
 very slowly and carefully, that we should be 
 pleased if he would take us by the lake, 
 along the lake, near the lake, around the 
 lake, on the shore of the lake, over the lake
 
 176 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 road, rather than that which led away from 
 the lake, back from the lake, out of sight 
 of the lake, into the country. It was all of 
 no use. The man was attentive and courteous 
 as possible, and he looked perfectly intelli 
 gent, but our drive that afternoon was quite 
 apart from Lake Geneva. ' After all the 
 money that was spent on your education ! ' 
 my aunt said to me, reproachfully." 
 
 " If you had heard some one else, just 
 then, give the directions for the drive you 
 wanted to take," put in Don Roberto, " you 
 would have known how to do it forever 
 afterward. That's the way one really learns 
 a language in a foreign country. When I 
 was about seven years old, before I knew a 
 single word of English, I was sent to a school 
 in Devon. The first noon, at recess, I went 
 out with the other boys into a garden to play, 
 and we ran about till we were hot and thirsty. 
 There was a pail of water on a bench, in 
 charge of a boy who gave out a dipperful 
 to any one who went up and asked for it. 
 I was awfully thirsty, but I didn't know how 
 to say that I wanted a drink, so I choked 
 for a long time in silence. Finally I couldn't 
 stand it any longer; I went over and stood
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 177, 
 
 near that bench until at least a dozen boys 
 had come up, and I'd heard what they said. 
 Then I knew how to ask for a drink of 
 water in English, and I never forgot it." 
 
 Last evening the most curious thing hap 
 pened something really uncanny. I have 
 read of " thought transference " and " tele 
 pathy " and " simultaneous inspiration " ; but 
 I never really knew an instance until last 
 night. We were all writing answers to 
 some questions that Mrs. Martin has: ques 
 tions such as "What do you most desire?" 
 " What is your favorite color? " :< Do you 
 prefer prose or poetry?" Each one had 
 a slip of paper, and as Mrs. Martin read 
 the questions aloud we all wrote our an 
 swers, only half a minute being given for 
 each question; then Mrs. Martin took the 
 papers and read them for all to hear. The 
 name of the writer of each slip was not 
 given, but there were so few of us Mr. 
 and Mrs. Martin, Kent, Don Roberto and 
 I that it was not at all difficult to recog 
 nise each one. Among the other questions, 
 one was, " What is your idea of happiness? " 
 I wrote, hastily, what first came into my
 
 178 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 head - ' To be in a new land." Then, just 
 as Mrs. Martin had collected the papers and 
 was about to read them, the thought of Kent 
 came to me how or why I can not pretend 
 to explain, but it came so insistently that I 
 cried to Mrs. Martin, "Oh, wait! Please 
 let me have my paper for a moment." She 
 gave it back to me, and to what I had writ 
 ten, I added, " with an old friend." Now, 
 just as I asked for my paper again, Kent 
 begged for his. " Please let me have that 
 a second," he said, " I've got something else 
 that I want to put down." It appears almost 
 incredible, but when the papers were read, 
 in answer to " What is your idea of happi 
 ness?" -where I had written, "To be in 
 a new land with an old friend," Kent had 
 said, "To be with an old friend in a new 
 land "; and " in a new land " was his hasty 
 addition, as " with an old friend " was mine. 
 The others could hardly believe that Kent 
 and I had written independently, and just on 
 the impulse of the moment; it seemed impos 
 sible that we had not planned our answers 
 together. I thought Kent would be pleased 
 that I had remembered him of course he is 
 the only old friend I have in this new land
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 179 
 
 but he said: ' The old friend was quite an 
 afterthought, wasn't he?" Don Roberto 
 glowered at us both. His answer to the 
 question was - " Success in what I under 
 take." Mrs. Martin wrote, " That everyone 
 else may be as happy as I am;" and Mr. 
 Martin " To have plenty of work that 
 I like to do, and to be well paid for it." 
 "That is not original," he confessed; "but 
 I happened to think of it, so I put it down."
 
 December ijth. 
 
 REALLY, Thanksgiving day was the 
 beginning of the dry season: we have 
 not had a drop of rain for over two 
 weeks. The weather is so perfect that it 
 seems unreal artificial like wax apples 
 or peaches and so lovely that no one can 
 understand how lovely it is who has not lived 
 through its days. Once in a while, at home, 
 there come twelve hours in June, perhaps, 
 or early September at the end of which 
 we say (with a sigh of regret that it is gone), 
 " This has been a perfect day ! " Here in 
 the Sierra Nevadas we are having weeks of 
 such days. It is not hot; it is not cold; the 
 sun shines softly, and a delicious little breeze 
 blows steadily; one might almost say 
 " flows," for the warm, sweet air is like a 
 current of clear water, rippling against the 
 hours as they go by. Mr. and Mrs. Martin 
 say that though they have been here ten 
 years, they do not yet take the weather at 
 this season as a matter of course; each 
 1 80
 
 December it comes as a beautiful surprise. 
 This is the time when the roses are at their 
 best such a wonderful best ! the " Amer 
 ican Beauty " and " La France " are higher 
 than the house and covered with blossoms. 
 We see great, gorgeous butterflies, now, and 
 all out-of-doors is full of birds, from the 
 tiny yellow ones, to the parrots that scream 
 far over our heads. Only the dearth of 
 angels keeps the country from being a para 
 dise. 
 
 Kent has returned to Santa Marta, but he 
 is coming up again for Christmas. We are 
 going to have a house party, and even now 
 preparations for it are going forward busily. 
 The carpenters are making furniture beds, 
 a side-board, dining-room table and chairs, a 
 couch, book shelves all in a modified Mis 
 sion style, of native cedar wood. Mr. Mar 
 tin is putting up ceilings of very, very heavy 
 greyish blue, or old-rose paper, divided into 
 great squares by cedar strips quite the 
 prettiest things of the kind I ever saw and 
 the side walls of the rooms have been cov 
 ered with plain paper to harmonize with 
 the ceilings. Mrs. Martin and I have 
 painted the chimney place a fine, homelike
 
 182 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 dark red, and we have had a carpenter make 
 mantel shelves of cedar, like the other wood 
 work. 
 
 In the midst of all this the coffee picking 
 and drying are still going on, though now 
 the harvest is drawing towards its close. It 
 is a busy, busy life, that of a coffee grower, 
 especially during the first five years of the 
 plantation, but it is a life in which the work 
 of every day and every month shows for 
 itself " something accomplished, something 
 done; " and I should think that a man who 
 has made a coffee estate must have a great 
 sense of satisfaction as he looks over the 
 finished result of his labor. It seems to me 
 that no work that is done in cities can com 
 pare with it. 
 
 December 
 
 Mrs. Martin and I have made a hurried 
 trip to Santa Marta; we returned day before 
 yesterday, and Kent came up with us. The 
 others of the holiday party are to arrive 
 to-morrow morning. 
 
 We went down to do some Christmas 
 shopping, but though our little coast town 
 is not now the centre of the war area as it
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 183 
 
 was some weeks ago, the banana boats have 
 so recently begun to visit it again that there 
 is scarcely anything in the shops. We were 
 down only one day, but that was more than 
 enough thorougly to explore the " shopping 
 district." We took what we could find and 
 rode gladly away to the cool again. Yes 
 terday the arrieros and the cargo mules came 
 up, and the air was full of mystery and ex 
 citement as the mules were unloaded at the 
 store, and parcels were hurriedly secreted 
 from the children's eyes. 
 
 Kent went about with us in Santa Marta, 
 and as we walked through the heat, along the 
 narrow, sandy streets, visiting one little 
 queer, tropical shop after another, the very 
 contrast in the surroundings seemed to carry 
 the American's thoughts across the sea, so 
 that he talked of nothing but the life in 
 New York at this holiday season. 
 
 " Think of Broadway, now three days 
 before Christmas," he kept saying, perversely. 
 "Think of Twenty-third Street or Fifth 
 Avenue, or Madison Square at five o'clock 
 on a winter afternoon, with the electric lights 
 blazing all over everything. See the Christ 
 mas crowds with their parcels; smell the
 
 184 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 trees and the greens, on the sidewalks; look 
 at the stands, and the cartloads of holly and 
 mistletoe! Don't you wish you were there? " 
 I really do not, but I am glad that some 
 one from home someone who understands 
 - is here with me at this time. I suppose 
 Don Roberto had real Christmases in Eng 
 land; he certainly never would have known 
 one if he had remained in Bogota. I was 
 there a year ago, and a more homesick at 
 mosphere I can not imagine. 
 
 Here at El Cafetal every nook and cranny 
 is pervaded by the Christmas Spirit, invoked, 
 made welcome and compassed about by La 
 Nina Eva. When there is no butter, some 
 women say, " I am so sorry, but we can not 
 have any cake." Mrs. Martin says nothing 
 at all, but makes a cake with lard. Then she 
 surrounds the feast with such sweet gayety 
 that no one thinks much of what is on the 
 board one only realises, vaguely, that 
 there is plenty of cake, and that it is a very 
 pleasant thing to be sitting there and eating 
 it. With almost nothing to work with, La 
 Nina Eva has prepared a Christmas for all 
 the men, women and children on the planta 
 tion, over one hundred in all, besides hav-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 185 
 
 ing made presents for the children of her 
 own family. The people of the finca are to 
 have dresses, or aprons, or coats, or dolls, or 
 money, or just bags of sweets and peanuts, 
 according to the length of time they have 
 been here. (Making out a list of the people 
 and deciding what to give them took Mr. 
 and Mrs. Martin a whole evening.) All 
 the bags have had to be sewed, filled and 
 tied up; all the dolls cut out, stuffed and 
 dressed; the dulce Mrs. Martin has made, 
 and the peanuts she has roasted. A carpen 
 ter, under Mrs. Martin's direction, has made 
 a little bureau, a doll's wardrobe, a bed and 
 some tiny chairs; and La Nina Eva, person 
 ally, has constructed a wooden horse, and so 
 covered it with felt that no other wooden 
 horse ever looked so real. A butter tub has 
 been converted into a doll's wash tub, and a 
 home-made wash-board goes with it; white 
 rabbits the wonderful woman has evolved 
 fron Canton flannel; balls, of striped red and 
 white cheese cloth; candle holders for the 
 tree out of odds and ends of wire. It will 
 be seen how very little we were able to buy 
 in Santa Marta; in fact, only raisins, nuts, 
 candles, some cotton dress goods, a few dates,
 
 1 86 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 and half a dozen Chinese lanterns. I have 
 made cream date candy, but as we have only 
 loaf sugar, which has to be pounded in an 
 old Indian stone mortar, the " cream " is de 
 cidedly gritty. 
 
 Early this morning, mozos went off into 
 the forest and brought back quantities of 
 palms, some with roots, and some cut off 
 above the ground; and this afternoon we 
 have all been decorating the corridor. We 
 have a row of great tubs, filled with earth, 
 all along the edge of the corridor, and into 
 these we have put the rooted plants palms 
 eight feet high, with great fan leaves that 
 meet above our heads. In the spaces be 
 tween the tubs, hanging down from the roof 
 of the corridor, are wire baskets (Mrs. Mar 
 tin made them) filled with moss and ferns. 
 The cut palms we have stacked in great 
 bunches in corners, and arranged in an arch 
 over the doorway; and some will be used to 
 decorate the sala, to-morrow morning. 
 
 The tree has been cut, and is now being 
 put up in its place at the end of the sola. El 
 Cafetal is not high enough above the sea to 
 be in the fir belt, so we have no fragrant, 
 spicy greens, no holly, no mistletoe, no proper
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 187 
 
 Christmas tree. Surely Santa Claus will be 
 surprised, to-night, when he comes down the 
 chimney by way of the fireplace in the sala, 
 and finds a coffee tree. Yet, really, aside 
 from the associations that one has with the 
 evergreen family at this time, the coffee tree 
 is particularly pretty for the purpose. Ours 
 is about nine feet high, perfectly symmetrical, 
 with waxy, dark green leaves, and it is full 
 of red, cherry-like berries. To-morrow, the 
 sala will be closed to the children, and we 
 shall trim the tree and put the presents on it. 
 Don Roberto has been here all day, helping 
 us. We went down to my garden, he and 
 I, this afternoon, and gathered for to-mor 
 row's dinner two baskets' full of vegetables 
 tomatoes, beets, peas, cucumbers and let 
 tuce. As we worked there with each other, 
 pulling from the soil, and picking from the 
 vines, I someway felt that we were a little 
 closer together, a little nearer in heart and 
 sympathy, than we had ever been before. 
 
 December 28th. 
 
 I went to sleep Christmas Eve thinking 
 of Don Roberto, and I suppose it is not un 
 natural that I should have dreamed of him.
 
 1 88 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 Yet such a dream ! I thought that I had 
 been married to him, but by proxy, so that 
 I had not yet seen my husband. Then, I 
 was aware that he had come; that he was 
 waiting in another room, and that I must go 
 to him. I W 7 ent, calmly, without any emo 
 tion whatever, but when I was in the room, 
 and saw him standing there, I instantly felt 
 that I did not love him. My heart sank, 
 as the thought surged over me, " I am mar 
 ried to this man. There is no escape un 
 til death. And I do not love him! " The 
 utter hopelessness of it took possession of 
 me. " It is done," I thought. " And it is 
 forever." Still, I walked across the room to 
 meet him, as he came towards me with out 
 stretched hand. I laid my hand in his, think 
 ing, as I did so, "I am his wife; it is his 
 right." As he took my hand, he drew me 
 to him, looking, meanwhile, gravely down 
 into my face; then, drawing nearer still, he 
 stooped and kissed me on the lips. Slowly 
 I lifted my face and our eyes met. Suddenly, 
 my head was on his breast, and he was hold 
 ing me closely, so closely that I could feel his 
 heart beating hard and fast. And in that 
 moment I knew that I did love him I
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 189 
 
 really did. But it was not for himself --it 
 was because of that kiss. 
 
 " Hazardous ! " I was saying to myself as 
 I awoke; " very hazardous! " What is haz 
 ardous, I wonder. To love? To kiss? Or 
 to love because of a kiss? Yes; that might 
 be. And that reminds me of the disagree 
 able Englishman's question: ; ' Don't you 
 think, really now, that international marriages 
 are hazardous? " 
 
 Don Roberto was here on Christmas morn 
 ing by coffee time about seven. He 
 brought me a most gorgeous scarf, made by 
 the Indians of Pueblo Viejo. 
 
 As soon as we had had coffee, the people 
 of the finca gathered in the patio, outside of 
 the dining-room, and their presents were dis 
 tributed to them. Besides the substantial 
 gifts the dresses and coats and things that 
 I have mentioned every man, woman and 
 child had a hot biscuit and a cooky made 
 by La Nina Eva. Then we sent away the 
 children and began to trim the tree and deco 
 rate the sola. We used quantities and quan 
 tities of palms and roses, and when we had 
 finished, the room was lovely, but not in the 
 least like Christmas rather, it resembled
 
 the chancel at a June wedding. The six 
 Chinese lanterns we hung among the palms, 
 to be lighted in the evening, with the candles 
 on the tree. 
 
 Almost by the time the sala was finished, 
 our guests began to arrive from the other 
 plantations, first, and later, from Santa 
 Marta. We had almost the Thanksgiving- 
 wedding party, but we greatly missed Baby 
 and Harry Hunter they are already set 
 tled on their tidy little place in Surrey. 
 About three o'clock we began the Christmas 
 dinner, and by the time we had finished, the 
 sun was setting. As soon as it grew dark, the 
 lanterns and the candles were lighted, the sala 
 doors were thrown open, and Clara cried, 
 ecstatically, " Ya esta el tree!" (The tree 
 is!) It was the children's hour, but the 
 Olympians were not forgotten. Among 
 other things which came to me was the most 
 beautiful hammock I ever saw all of pure 
 white cord and fringe. Kent had seen it at 
 Maranguey, one of the Magdalena river 
 towns, and had brought it down for me. 
 
 On Christmas night the plantation people 
 had one of their native dances, which they 
 call cumbiambas, and which must be a survi-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 191 
 
 val from far-off savage days --Indian or 
 negro, I do not know, but I should think the 
 latter. The dance is in the open air, on some 
 flat space, in the centre of which is a tall pole, 
 surmounted by a lantern. Men and women, 
 down to young boys and girls there were 
 seventy or eighty of them the other night - 
 each with a lighted candle in his hand, go in 
 couples in a large circle around the pole, mov 
 ing forward, constantly, with a queer, shuf 
 fling, dancing step. Inside the circle, one 
 bleats continuously on an enormous native 
 drum tap, tap, tap, never stopping for an 
 instant, and that is the only music (?) there is. 
 The gleam of the lantern on top of the pole, 
 throws just enough light to bring out fantastic 
 shadows, swaying and circling; while the can 
 dles glimmering points that swerve and 
 veer through the surrounding darkness illu 
 minate the swarthy faces of the dancers. 
 Around and around the pole they circle, untir 
 ingly, the couples changing at short intervals, 
 as a man or a woman advances or falls back; 
 and hour after hour this strange, barbaric per 
 formance is continued. I should like very 
 much to know if the cumbiamba is a great 
 grandfather of the dance around a May pole.
 
 iga COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 We all went out and watched the dance, 
 standing, ourselves, away from the circle, far 
 back in the shadow. Over our heads the 
 tropic stars were burning the Cross, and 
 the dipper upside down. I felt a million 
 miles from home, but I was not homesick; 
 rather, I was filled with keenest pleasure in 
 what was going on around me. I moved 
 away a short distance, better to observe the 
 scene the little group of Caucasians, 
 laughing and talking in the foreground, and 
 the throng of dancing red men and negroes, 
 beyond and then I stood there, wondering 
 how it is possible that there are so many peo 
 ple in the world who do not feel the joy of 
 travel. I thought of friends, at home, who 
 could as well as not have been there with me, 
 but who, in all probability, were wondering, 
 on their part, how I could want to be so far 
 away. I was in a mood to be in sympathy 
 with all things alien and foreign, when Don 
 Roberto joined me. 
 
 " I've been trying all day for a word alone 
 with you," he began at once, hurriedly 
 " and now it will be only an instant. You 
 know what I want to say. You know I love 
 you. I've loved you from the beginning
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 193 
 
 from the day at the fire. I'd have said so 
 long ago if you'd been a Colombian, but you 
 English Americans it makes no differ 
 ence you don't understand; you wouldn't 
 have believed me. So I've waited six 
 months. Now tell me quickly they're 
 going back to the house do you care for 
 me at all?" 
 
 " Come, Miss Parnell," called Mr. An- 
 son. " Come, Alvarez ! We're going in, to 
 dance." 
 
 " Tell me ! " Don Roberto insisted, even as 
 we turned to join the others. " Just that 
 do you care for me? " 
 
 If we had had five seconds longer, I am al 
 most certain that I should have said, "Yes; 
 I do." But there was not even an instant, 
 and I am very glad, now, that it was so. For 
 I am not at all sure that I love Don Roberto, 
 and I am still less certain that I am willing 
 to marry him, even if I do love him. There 
 are loves and loves, and I do not know, yet, 
 that either his or mine is the kind that ought 
 to end in marriage. " Matrimony is not 
 by any to be entered into unadvisedly or 
 lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, 
 soberly, and in the fear of God."
 
 194 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 We have talked this all over, since Christ 
 mas night. Don Roberto does not under 
 stand in the least. I think he wishes that I 
 were a Colombian. A little walking under a 
 balcony; an introduction to the home; a few 
 calls in the presence of the chaperone; a for 
 mal request for the girl's hand and all is 
 arranged. As for the future of the couple 
 Qulen sabe? 
 
 January 20th. 
 
 No rain for eight weeks, and my garden 
 is commencing to suffer. Seeds that I planted 
 two weeks ago have not come up, and those 
 vegetables as beets, cabbages, onions and 
 cauliflowers that were in fine condition at 
 the beginning of the dry season, are now 
 drooping and looking thirsty. The only 
 things that are doing well are the tomatoes; 
 the constant sunshine is good for them, and 
 the plants are laden and bowed down with 
 fruit. The gardens are too far from any 
 spring to be watered artificially, so La Nina 
 Eva and I are now planting our seeds in 
 what we call here a " troje " that is, a 
 seed-bed made in a very large wooden frame 
 or box raised above the ground to be out 
 of the way of the chickens. We have our
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 195 
 
 " trojes " just back of the house, by the chorro 
 
 the jet of water from a spring in the hills 
 
 so we can easily see to it that the little 
 plants are thoroughly soaked every day. By 
 the time the rainy season begins again, the 
 seedlings will have become large enough to be 
 transplanted into the garden beds. It is now 
 that Mr. Martin's prediction that I should 
 be eaten alive by plaga is coming to pass; 
 the hot sun brings out the pests in myriads. 
 They do not bother us at all up by the house, 
 but down in my garden they nearly drive me 
 frantic. Fortunately they keep very near the 
 ground, so that it is only when I stoop low 
 to do some weeding, or bend over to pull up 
 some vegetables, that they are really unbear 
 able. I work for a minute or two, then 
 straighten up and flap my handkerchief vigor 
 ously, dispersing the swarms for the instant. 
 Then I weed a little more. " I won't stop 
 till I get to the middle of the bed," I tell my 
 self. But back come all the gnats, bringing 
 their friends with them, and there are days 
 when they are so very, very bad that I just 
 give up and flee to the house. 
 
 I begin to feel quite like an arrlera I 
 hope arriera is feminine for arriero, but I am
 
 196 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 not at all sure. Whatever it is, I feel like 
 one, because I have " been down " so often 
 of late. 
 
 This time it was to hunt the sportive alli 
 gator. Mr. Cunningham sent up to know if 
 we would go for two days in the " Caima- 
 nero " and we wrote back that indeed we 
 would. 
 
 The " Caimanero " is the tiniest of steam 
 launches, and there was room for only Mr. 
 and Mrs. Martin, Mr. Cunningham and me, 
 besides the engineer, and a man who skins the 
 alligators. We left Santa Marta early Wed 
 nesday morning, and returned Thursday after 
 noon, so we had nearly two days in the canos, 
 which are very like the St. John's River, in 
 Florida. We steamed about, here and there, 
 in creeks so winding and narrow that often 
 there was scarcely space for our little boat to 
 turn, and in many places the trees almost met 
 overhead; out onto broad water where the 
 tide comes in from the sea and forms lagoons; 
 by little islands covered with tropical thicket 
 and matted vines, and through sinuous chan 
 nels of the open everglade or cienaga. Alli 
 gators swarmed the water, and crawled out to 
 lie on the banks; we shot at them, but none of
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 197 
 
 us, except Mr. Cunningham and his men 
 succeeded in killing one. 
 
 Late Wednesday afternoon we were near 
 Pueblo Viejo, the most aboriginal Indian vil 
 lage that I have seen, except on the Mag- 
 dalena. Some of the huts are built on piles 
 over low flats, out from the mainland; the sur 
 face is flooded at high tide, and then the as 
 pect of the place is so primeval that one seems 
 almost to be gazing on the lake dwellings of 
 prehistoric times. The launch reached the 
 village just at the end of the day. Indians 
 were going and coming over the water in 
 canoes of great hollowed logs; inside the 
 palm huts women were cooking over little 
 fires between stones on the mud floor; naked 
 children ran about, and gathered to watch us 
 as we approached, and the whole scene was 
 saturated with the colored light of a tropic 
 sunset. 
 
 In this latitude, the twilight fades exactly 
 as it does in a theatre. No sooner has the 
 sun gone below the horizon than the dark 
 ness begins to fall in visible shades, deeper 
 every second, just as it does on the stage when 
 the lights are extinguished in rapid succession, 
 to indicate the coming on of night.
 
 I 9 8 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 We slept on board the " Caimanero " 
 Mrs. Martin and I in the little cabin, the 
 men in hammocks on the deck. Just before 
 daybreak I awoke, and getting up softly, I 
 went to the tiny window and looked out. 
 Everything was very still, except for just a 
 whisper of wind, heralding the dawn, and now 
 and then a little splash, as an alligator moved 
 through the water near the side of the boat. 
 The Indian village was yet asleep; I looked 
 over towards it, and wondered as to the na 
 ture of the dreams of a prehistoric lake 
 dweller. Above us, the stars were already 
 beginning to wink out, and, near the southern 
 horizon, the Cross had " swung low to the 
 morn." I waited by the window until the 
 first pink light came into the sky, and the 
 pueblo commenced to stir in its sleep. Pres 
 ently an Indian boy came out from a hut, went 
 to the water, and taking one of the smaller 
 canoes, paddled a little distance away; in a 
 moment or two I saw that he was catching 
 fish. By this time the world was growing 
 wide awake, and before long we were all out 
 of doors, and Mr. Cunningham was buying 
 the Indian's fish for an American breakfast. 
 A little later, before steaming off into the
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 199 
 
 caiios again, we walked through a grove of 
 cocoanut palms one of the most beautiful 
 and majestic things in all nature. I must ad 
 mit, however, that one's thoughts are some 
 what distracted from the cathedral solemnity 
 of such a spot by the enormous land crabs that 
 go rattling about almost under one's feet, 
 trying to scuttle out of sight into their holes 
 in the ground. 
 
 When we came back to El Cafetal, after 
 the alligator hunt, Mr. and Mrs. Anson, and 
 Kent accompanied us, and a day or two later 
 we all, with Don Roberto, went off on a camp 
 ing party, over some land that Kent has de 
 cided to buy. The tract is just beyond El 
 Cafetal, not far away, as the crow flies, but 
 very difficult to penetrate, on account of the 
 dense forest. We took with us men with 
 machetes to cut away the undergrowth, and 
 more men to carry our blankets and food. 
 
 " Why are you providing such quantities of 
 provisions?" I said to Mr. Martin. ' I 
 should think you were preparing for a trip to 
 Central Africa." 
 
 " Think of all the mozos who are going 
 with us," he returned; " there must be some 
 thing for them to eat, you know."
 
 200 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 ' Why do you take so many men? " I per 
 sisted. " I don't see why you need so many." 
 
 " But just look at all the food there is to be 
 carried," explained Mr. Martin. 
 
 We rode mules as far as the edge of our 
 own clearings; then we began slowly to make 
 our way on foot. The hills in this section are 
 a network of paved Indian roads, but so many 
 years have passed since these were laid down, 
 that the forest has grown over them, and the 
 pavement is, to a great extent, covered with 
 vegetation. In the middle of many of the 
 roads there are growing trees of four or five 
 feet in diameter, unimpeachable witnesses to 
 the hundreds of years that have gone by 
 since the last red man passed that way. A 
 great part of the trail from Santa Marta 
 up to El Cafetal is one of the old Indian 
 roads reopened, and every time we come up 
 we ride for some distance over the original 
 stone pavement. The same route goes on, 
 past our estate, across the valley and over the 
 ridge into the valley of the Rio Cordova, and 
 it was by this way that we entered the forest 
 and began our climb up the slope. The 
 men with the machetes went first, cutting and 
 slashing at vines, hanging roots, and what
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 201 
 
 we call " monte " low, thick vegetation 
 and as far as possible clearing the path; but 
 even then our progress was exceedingly slow 
 and difficult. I conceived that we were a 
 company of the early Spanish explorers, driv 
 ing these Indians before us, urging them ever 
 on and on, in our mad, insatiable desire to find 
 gold. Each morning we began the march, 
 certain that before nightfall we should come 
 upon El Dorado, and each evening we were 
 forced to accept, bitterly, another day's disap 
 pointment. But always we pushed on, fur 
 ther and further into the interior, week after 
 week, and month after month, leaving the 
 coast and the Sierra Nevadas far behind us, 
 until at last, having crossed the Andes, we 
 came out on a plateau nearly nine thousand 
 feet above the sea, and there we built the 
 city of Santa Fe de Bogota. 
 
 Having thus founded the capital of Co 
 lombia, I returned to these mountains, and 
 now I tried to imagine all this forest gone, 
 the Indian roads open, and the red men go 
 ing back and forth over the country. Here 
 I had no history or records to guide me, and 
 I was at once lost in a maze of uncertainty 
 and conjecture. I can not understand, for in-
 
 202 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 stance, what need those Indians had of such 
 broad, well-made thoroughfares. Why were 
 not ordinary, narrow trails sufficient? These 
 roads of theirs were so good that they were 
 like military roads, if one considers their qual 
 ity with reference to the quality of the Indian 
 civilisation. By this I mean that as the mil 
 itary roads of Germany, for example, are to 
 the German civilisation, so these roads of the 
 Sierra Nevadas were to what we suppose to 
 have been the civilisation of the primitive 
 Indian of this region. And that is to say that 
 the highways of the Indian were far better 
 in proportion to his status among the world's 
 people than are the highways of our country 
 to the status of the United States. The In 
 dians of those times must have been very dif 
 ferent from any Colombian Indians of to-day. 
 These have no mode of life that calls for well- 
 made lines of travel, in the first place, and 
 they have no quality of character that would 
 induce so much labor, even if good thorough 
 fares would be an advantage to them. Peo 
 ple who do not keep even their own homes 
 in right condition, or who will not take the 
 trouble to plant a little garden about their 
 ranches, when the ground and the seeds are
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 203 
 
 freely offered to them would certainly 
 stand aghast at any notion of road-building. 
 
 The first night in the forest we slept very 
 comfortably in our blankets, for we were not 
 yet high enough to feel much wind, and the 
 great camp fire kept us sufficiently warm; 
 but the second night, when we bivouacked 
 within sight of the snow-line, the wind blew 
 howlingly, and the blankets seemed to be 
 made of cobwebs. It was hard to believe 
 that twenty miles five hours away, peo 
 ple were sweltering, with electric fans whir 
 ring at the bedsides of those who were lucky 
 enough to have them. It is a very simple 
 matter, in this region, to change one's climate, 
 yet I remember that a woman in Bogota once 
 said to me, rather enviously, " You of the 
 north have not to travel about for a change 
 of temperature: you can stay in one place, 
 and heat and cold, in succession, come to your 
 own homes ! " 
 
 The woman had never been further from 
 Bogota than Villete, and could have no con 
 ception of a New Yorker's constant flitting 
 from Palm Beach to an Adirondack camp, 
 from Tuxedo to Los Angeles, from Newport 
 to the Riviera. Her idea, however, had
 
 204 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 struck me as being a grandly simple and 
 majestic one: the notion that a human be 
 ing might abide, calmly and tranquilly, like 
 a god, while, for his comfort, the ever-chang 
 ing seasons swept by untiringly. 
 
 We were two nights and nearly three days 
 on our little expedition, but the first day was 
 mainly a going forth, and the third day a 
 returning, so it happened that into the second 
 day were crowded most of the incidents and 
 adventures. It was early on that morning 
 that, as I was stumbling along, of a sudden 
 at least a pint of cold water was poured upon 
 me from above, and as the icy stream ran 
 down my back, I was aware that I had inad 
 vertently tipped over a water plant. The 
 thing looks rather like a cabbage, and it grows 
 like an orchid on the trunks and branches 
 of trees. To the natives it is a natural water 
 jar from which they drink when they are 
 thirsty in the woods. 
 
 Next to his inexpressible pride and de 
 light, Kent shot a tapir. All along one of 
 the slopes to the east of the valley there is 
 a beaten track, worn and kept open by the 
 passing and repassing of tapirs, of which 
 there are so many there that the situation is
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 205 
 
 called Danta (tapir) Ridge. Once or twice, 
 in the night, we had heard their shrill, whis 
 tling cry, and as we had gone over their trail 
 we had observed a great many traces of the 
 animals their tracks, especially the nest- 
 like beds which they make in the grass; but 
 we knew that, numerous though they are, they 
 are almost never encountered, so we had had 
 no idea of seeing one. It happened, how 
 ever, that as we were making our way along 
 a bit of comparatively open road, a great, 
 dark form crossed the path directly in front 
 of us, and in the few seconds that the animal 
 was before him Kent shot it. I had learned 
 that the tapir is between the elephant and the 
 pig in the zoological family, and someway I 
 had fancied that it was about the size of a 
 wild boar; I was very much surprised, there 
 fore, to find that tapirs are nearly as large 
 as mules. The men with us said it was for 
 tunate that Kent had killed the animal rather 
 than only wounded it, as, though the tapir 
 avoids mankind as far as possible, it is dan 
 gerous when it is brought to bay. 
 
 So, that second day, we kept on, still over 
 the route of the old Indian road from Santa 
 Marta; now for some distance along a clear
 
 206 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 piece of pavement, and then through such un 
 dergrowth that in an hour we had advanced 
 scarcely two hundred feet, and without the 
 machetes any progress would have been im 
 possible. We climbed and scrambled and 
 made our difficult way, and we were getting 
 well tired when we came upon some discov 
 eries that at once rendered our fatigue as if it 
 had never been. 
 
 Unknowingly we had accomplished a pil 
 grimage; for, of a sudden, there before us, 
 exactly in the course of the road over which 
 we were going, stood an altar. I am not sure 
 how the others felt about it, but I was not in 
 the least surprised. Of course I had not been 
 aware of the altar's existence, and I could 
 not have expected to see anything of the kind; 
 but when it was before me, it seemed so en 
 tirely natural and fitting that it should be 
 there that it was almost with a sense of rec 
 ognition that I approached it. Here, then, 
 was one purpose, at least, for which the long, 
 well-paved road had been made to lead up 
 to the red men's sanctuary. Oh, to go back, 
 if only for one hour, to the time when this 
 place was the scene of religious ceremonials ! 
 To be able to see the Indians coming up from
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 207 
 
 the valleys to worship here ; to know the man 
 ner of their service, and what were the sacri 
 fices that they offered. Their altar is of 
 stone; it is five feet high; the sides converge 
 a little towards the flat top, which is five feet 
 square. On this surface, back of the centre, 
 is a flat stone, two feet square, and fifteen 
 inches high. On two sides of the altar are 
 steps laid up with stone, and the paved road 
 leads directly up these steps on one side, and 
 down the steps on the other side. Then the 
 road goes on, over the ridge, down into the 
 next valley, and I do not know how much 
 further. 
 
 At that point we left the route which we 
 had followed ever since starting from El Caf- 
 etal, and instead of going on over what I 
 call the Santa Marta Indian Road, we turned 
 south, keeping along the ridge between the 
 two valleys. After a time we fell in with an 
 other of the old paved ways; this crossed the 
 ridge at right angles, and going down into the 
 valley of the Rio Cordova, joined the Santa 
 Marta route. Branching off from this second 
 road was a third, and just at the intersection 
 of these two we came upon a stone anchor. 
 After the discovery of the altar, I think we
 
 208 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 had all been in rather an expectant frame of 
 mind, and that no one felt that it was any 
 more than he had been looking for when we 
 found another material reminder of the life 
 of the Indian of centuries ago. The anchor 
 was made in two parts the shank, which is 
 nine feet long, and the curved arms which are 
 ten feet from point to point; between these 
 sections runs the Indian road. Why the an 
 chor is there; for what purpose it was made; 
 what it means, and why the road runs through 
 it, rather than around it, are questions that 
 one can only ask and never answer. 
 
 If the altar be taken to symbolise faith, 
 and the anchor hope, we might very reasona 
 bly have looked for a heart as the next 
 form of Indian remains; but the old braves 
 either had no charity to typify, or they 
 thought a heart of stone too obvious an in 
 consistency, for the last traces of them that 
 we met on the branch road, further along 
 the ridge were a stone seat, about fifteen 
 inches square, and a large clay jar. The lat 
 ter is almost intact, and has on one side a 
 grotesque face, with two hands holding some 
 thing to the mouth the whole probably in 
 tended to represent a person in the act of
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 209 
 
 drinking. Kent claimed the jar as having 
 been found near the land that he is going to 
 purchase. He had it taken with great care 
 back to El Cafetal, and then he gave it to 
 me. 
 
 It is said that really to know a person one 
 must travel with him. That is true I have 
 tried it. On a long journey people either 
 grow very near to one another or else they 
 quarrel. Now, as ordinary travelling is to 
 the stay-at-home conditions of life, so is a 
 camping party to ordinary travelling. As a 
 month of travel equals a year at home, so a 
 day of camping equals a month of travel. 
 Stay-at-homes know one another about as they 
 care to know and be known; travellers know, 
 whether they care or not; and campers more 
 than know they feel. There is something 
 about the forest that seems to reduce a per 
 son to his lowest terms; to show him exactly 
 as he is, without veneer of any kind. The 
 free, unconventional life loosens restraints, 
 and the true man is discovered. The charac 
 ter thus revealed may be higher or lower 
 than that which has hitherto appeared, but at 
 least it is the real nature. 
 
 I really do not know much more about Don
 
 210 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 Roberto than I was aware of before we went 
 into the woods, yet I certainly feel less in sym 
 pathy with him than I did a week ago. I try 
 to find the reason for this, and I review every 
 word and action of his during the three days' 
 trip; but I can think of only one small thing 
 that may explain the alienation. A moth was 
 flying about his face; it annoyed him; he 
 caught it by one wing and held it over the 
 fire until it was burned to death. That is all; 
 yet I feel, now, that if I married Don Ro 
 berto I should never want to be far away from 
 a United States Consul, to whom I could ap 
 peal in case of need in case I should at any 
 time want to go home. The impression is 
 absurd irrational; there has been no ade 
 quate cause for it. It may wear off, and I 
 hope it will-- I want to be able to care for 
 him. 
 
 February 2Jth. 
 
 Ash Wednesday. 
 
 Hardly were the Christmas festivities over 
 when the people of the finca began to enact 
 the mummeries of the carnival season. For 
 weeks, now, the children and the house serv 
 ants have been getting themselves up in fan 
 tastic garbs, and carrying about with them
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 211 
 
 bottles filled with colored water which they 
 have been throwing all over one another's 
 clothes. In this part of the world the colored 
 water takes the place of the flowers and con 
 fetti of New Orleans and southern Europe; 
 and the more popular one is, here, the greater 
 the quantity of tinted liquid is poured on one's 
 garments. If a sefiorita is pretty, the young 
 men all dash their colored water at her, and 
 the girl whose white gown is the most stained 
 is the belle of the carnival. The great day of 
 the season is Carnival Sunday the Sunday 
 before Lent but for two or three weeks 
 previous to that time, and on Monday and 
 Tuesday, right up to Ash Wednesday, the 
 fun and frolic are going on. In Barran- 
 quilla and Santa Marta there have been pro 
 cessions in the streets, and every night balls 
 have been given. Towards the last that 
 is, on Sunday and Monday and Tuesday 
 the people gave themselves up wholly to 
 gaiety and revels. No business was thought 
 of; the shops were closed; the streets were 
 thronged; all the young people dressed in 
 fancy costumes; the men went around from 
 house to house, some on foot, some in car 
 riages; the young girls peeped coyly out from
 
 212 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 behind shutters, or window bars, or half- 
 closed doors; and at every sight of them the 
 gallants threw the colored water from the 
 bottles. 
 
 Here on the plantation, as I have said, the 
 children and the servants have been making 
 merry for weeks past; and for three days 
 the place looked as if Elf-land had broken 
 loose over it, as the masqueraders ran about, 
 chasing one another with shrieks of laughter, 
 and throwing colored water by the quart. 
 Sunday evening the people had a dance in one 
 of the ranches, and Kent and I went for a 
 while to look on. In the one room of the hut 
 glimmered three candles, dimly lighting the 
 centre, and leaving the corners in darkness. 
 After the dancing began, the air was thick 
 with dust from the earth floor, so that we saw 
 the men and women in a haze, moving 
 through their strange steps and figures, and 
 throwing quaint shadows on the mud walls. 
 The big drum of the cumbiamba was beaten 
 continuously by an Indian just without the 
 door of the rancho, while a boy rattled what 
 they call a chucho a long, hollow gourd, 
 with beans or shot that clatter around inside 
 when the thing is shaken. Kent and I
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 213 
 
 watched the scene for only a half hour or so, 
 but the people kept on dancing till long after 
 midnight in fact, when I woke up about 
 two o'clock in the morning, I heard the big 
 drum still sounding. 
 
 Don Roberto went over to Barranquilla 
 for the Carnival week. He tried to persuade 
 Mrs. Martin and me to go, too, but neither 
 of us cared anything about it, and he went 
 alone. He says he has been over every year 
 since he came from England: I suppose it is 
 to him what the Fourth of July, for instance, 
 is to us, except that there is nothing patriotic 
 about it. It would be difficult, I should think, 
 for a Colombian to have any feeling of pa 
 triotism ; yet it is the lack of it that is the curse 
 of the land. Not long ago Kent quoted 
 Stephen Decatur's toast, given at Norfolk in 
 1816: 
 
 "Our country! In her intercourse with 
 foreign nations, may she always be in the 
 right; but right or wrong our country!" 
 
 Don Roberto said, frankly, that that was 
 a sentiment he could not in the least under 
 stand. 
 
 " I can't fancy myself enthusing over any 
 country just because I happened to be born in
 
 214 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 it," he declared. u If it's good I don't mind 
 standing by it, but if it's bad, as this one is, 
 it can go to the dogs for all I care. As soon 
 as I've made money enough here, I'm going 
 to leave it, anyway." But after a moment he 
 added - " I believe, though, it's that ' right 
 or wrong ' policy that has made England what 
 it is." 
 
 He came back, yesterday, from Barran- 
 quilla, very much a Colombian, socially, if not 
 politically. He went to a ball every night 
 while he was in the town, and he drove about 
 all day in a carriage with three other young 
 men, throwing colored water and thoroughly 
 enjoying himself. He protests that he was 
 wishing all the time that I was there; but I 
 wonder what he would have done if I had 
 been. I know what I would not have done ! 
 
 Kent has come to stay here at El Cafetal 
 for some weeks while he supervises the work 
 which has already begun on his land, up the 
 valley. Both he and Mr. Martin have gangs 
 of mozos felling trees by the acre; and some 
 of our men are "tumbling (as they call it 
 here) so near the house that we can see the 
 great trunks sway and fall, and hear the 
 crash as they come to the ground. After the
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 215 
 
 trees are cut down, and have lain for a while 
 in the unbroken sunshine of the dry season, 
 they are set on fire, and the tracts of land are 
 " burned over." For days and days together 
 the air is full of smoke, and there is a pleas 
 ant smell of burning wood; after the night 
 falls we see wide spaces of the darkness 
 swept by flames, and the light of them goes 
 up to the stars. I remember about a year 
 ago, when I had first come to Santa Marta, 
 and was just beginning to know of the coffee 
 plantations in the higher lands, I stood, one 
 evening, out on the balcony of the hotel, look 
 ing up towards the Sierra Nevadas. As it 
 grew dark, a bright light showed on the 
 mountain side, and afterwards, for hours, I 
 watched a fire on some plantation perhaps 
 it was El Cafetal. These conflagrations go 
 on until at last they burn themselves out, and 
 there remain only charred stumps, and a thick 
 layer of ashes over the ground. Then the 
 land lies open and empty; what was once the 
 theatre of the human affairs of the red man 
 is now ready for those of his pale-face suc 
 cessor. It is a grand thing, I think this 
 working directly with nature, face to face; 
 clearing away the forest; letting in the sun;
 
 216 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 planting the coffee trees; making an estate. 
 It seems so much finer to be at this end of the 
 venture than at the market end. 
 
 The coffee harvest is all over for this year; 
 the last berries have been picked; the last 
 beans have been dried, and all the bags, each 
 containing one hundred pounds, have gone on 
 the mules down to Santa Marta, and thence 
 abroad. 
 
 The revolution really seems to have come 
 to an end at last to have collapsed as un 
 expectedly as it began, three years ago. It 
 is said that Sefior Reyes is coming back from 
 Europe, and optimistic ones are full of hope 
 that in that statesman, general and explorer 
 all parties are going to unite, and that Co 
 lombia is now to be a land of peace and con 
 cord, with everybody holding hands, and no 
 one caring who holds the key of the treasury. 
 That is the preferred and popular sentiment 
 at the moment, but in the midst of this gen 
 eral enthusiasm there are yet some discerning 
 persons who hold that another conflict is very 
 near. Indeed, it is a matter of wonderment 
 to us of the coast that Bogota does not seem 
 to hear the very distinct rumblings of thunder 
 that are coming from the Department of Pan-
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 217 
 
 ama. What are they thinking of, up there at 
 the capital, that they continue to bluff, and to 
 evade, and to act as they are acting in re 
 gard to the canal treaty? Do they suppose 
 that, even if the United States submits to the 
 insolence of such treatment (at least it 
 would be insolence if Colombia were a respon 
 sible power instead of the spoiled-child gov 
 ernment that it is) do they imagine for 
 one moment that Panama is going to be quiet 
 if there is no ratification of some favorable 
 canal treaty? The most phlegmatic people 
 in the world would not accept calmly such a 
 blow to their well-being, and still less will 
 Panama do so Panama with revolution 
 in her very blood. That Department is say 
 ing, now, openly, that if there be no canal 
 treaty it will secede from the Republic of Co 
 lombia ; and yet the Congress at Bogota goes 
 blindly on with its policy of postponement and 
 probable rejection. 
 
 One of the last acts of the war in this 
 coast region was the seizing of the little 
 " Caimanero " of our alligator hunt, and the 
 cutting off of the engineer's head with a mach 
 ete, right before his family's eyes. It hap 
 pened a month ago, but we have just heard of
 
 2i 8 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 it. Though it is no worse than hundreds of 
 other acts of the revolution, it seems more ap 
 palling to us because we knew the engineer, 
 and had so lately taken that trip through the 
 canos with him. 
 
 March loth. 
 
 It is very, very dry in these days so dry 
 that the world is parched and seared, and a 
 thick white dust has settled over everything. 
 It is terribly hard on the gardens; I am so 
 sorry for them, and I would do anything to 
 give them the water they are begging for. 
 The dry season is heavenly when it first 
 comes, but, now, after three months of sun, 
 it is going to be heavenly to have the rain 
 fall again. " I am sick of endless sunshine," 
 I believe, just as Mr. Kipling was, when he 
 longed for " the spring in the English lanes." 
 
 My tomatoes are receiving a great deal of 
 praise and admiration just now, simply be 
 cause they love the dry season, and thrive in 
 it. The commendation is manifestly unjust, 
 as the tomatoes deserve no credit at all for 
 doing exactly what they like to do, and being 
 prosperous and happy in the midst of circum 
 stances that literally suit them down to the
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 219 
 
 ground. " Be good and you will be happy " 
 is very well, and very true ; but the other way 
 around is true, also: Be happy; and if you 
 are not good there is no excuse for you. 
 
 " Yes," says Kent; " but some people who 
 ought to be good, because they have so much 
 to make them happy, are yet selfish and un 
 profitable; and some people are never happy, 
 no matter how much they have." (Here he 
 reminds me of two or three persons whom 
 we both know, at home, who really possess 
 everything that any one could reasonably wish 
 for, but who are constantly fretting.) 
 
 " If I were you," he advises me, " I 
 wouldn't be so cynical and captious in regard 
 to those tomatoes, for at least they know when 
 they are well off." 
 
 This is quite true, now that I think of it; 
 and the tomatoes certainly merit approbation, 
 in that, at least, they appreciate their bless 
 ings, and are making the most of their advan 
 tages. For this I can consistently be grateful 
 to them, and so I am, the while I gather the 
 fruits of their well-doing, to the extent of 
 several large baskets of tomatoes, every week. 
 
 I had hardly supposed that the world held 
 as many little yellow butterflies as there are
 
 220 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 winging their way by us just at this time. 
 I do not know why they are migrating like 
 this; perhaps it is to escape the approaching 
 rainy season. The air is full of them; for 
 days they have been drifting past the house, 
 in fluttering, corn-coloured clouds, millions 
 and millions of them, so light and pretty and 
 dainty and gay little Psyches, hurrying to 
 meet the Cupids who seem to be calling to 
 them from somewhere in the north. 
 
 April 2nd. 
 
 It is the greatest mistake to suppose that 
 there is no spring in the tropics. It is true 
 that there is no winter that frost never 
 comes, and snow never falls, and the trees are 
 never bare and leafless. But as for spring 
 it is with us and about us, below us and 
 above us; the earth knows, even here, when 
 it is spring-time, and the sky knows it, and 
 we know it because they do. Five days ago 
 the clouds began to gather little pearl- 
 grey things, so light and filmy and trans 
 lucent that they seemed no more than shad 
 ows, yet were really and truly clouds. They 
 passed over the sun, overcasting it for just 
 a moment or two, then they vanished, leaving
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 221 
 
 the world all brilliant and dazzling as before. 
 But the next day they came again, and were 
 a little heavier and darker, and stayed a little 
 longer, and before they disappeared they had 
 sent down to us the first drops of rain that we 
 had seen since last November. The children 
 and the servants frisked about in the tiny 
 sprinkle, laughing and shouting, and hold 
 ing out their hands to catch the drops as they 
 fell. I wanted to do the same things, but it 
 would not have been dignified, so I just ran 
 down to my garden and watched the little 
 splashes of water as they hit the dust and 
 made holes in it, but seemed not to be wet 
 enough to moisten it at all. I told all the 
 dry and thirsty cabbages and beets that in 
 just a few days, now, they would have as much 
 water as they wanted, to bathe in, or to 
 drink. I reminded the tomatoes that they 
 had had four months of hot sunshine, and 
 that into each life some rain must fall, so I 
 hoped they were not going to complain; and 
 then I bent low to the earth, and warned the 
 plaga that they would better go away from 
 there as fast as they possibly could, as a flood 
 was coming, and if they stayed they would all 
 be drowned.
 
 222 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 Each day since then we have had showers, 
 and though, five minutes after they have fal 
 len, the ground is as hard and dry as before, 
 we know, now, that the rainy season has be 
 gun, and that in a week or two there will be 
 moisture in abundance. In the meantime I 
 am having my garden beds raked over and 
 prepared for the seeds that I am going to sow 
 in them; and all the ground outside the wire 
 fence is being dug up and made ready for 
 the plants from the troje. 
 
 For the past week or two I have been feel 
 ing just as I do at home when the first spring 
 days come to us. I must have been a bird, 
 once, I think some kind of migratory bird; 
 
 for no sooner is there the first hint of 
 spring in the air than I begin to be restless, 
 and to long to fly away somewhere no mat 
 ter where, only away. Then it takes all my 
 little store of common sense to keep me from 
 going to Forty-second Street, and getting on 
 the first limited train that is pulling out; or 
 
 still greater temptation from hurrying 
 down to lower Broadway and engaging a pas 
 sage on one of the transatlantic steamships. 
 About the middle of April this mood passes 
 off for the time, and with the first warm
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 223 
 
 days, comes the desire to be in the country. 
 I want, then, to do just what I am doing 
 now to walk over soft earth and grass in 
 stead of city pavements, and to touch with my 
 hands fresh, green, growing things. As 
 Kent, at Christmas time, kept thinking of 
 New York in the Holidays, so I am now call 
 ing to mind all the phases of life there in the 
 early spring. It is a gay and pleasant sea 
 son, and though the thoughts of it are not 
 causing me to be one bit homesick, they are 
 filling me with a sort of home love, and home 
 loyalty that make me glad that I have lived 
 just where I have. It is such a pity, I think, 
 for children to be educated abroad. If a 
 child is taken away when he is five years old, 
 as Don Roberto was, for instance, and if he 
 spends all his childhood in a foreign land, 
 how is he ever really to know and love his 
 own country? No years of living in it, after 
 wards, can make up for all the memories that 
 he has lost, and all the impressions and in 
 fluences that he ought to have been absorbing; 
 and I should think he would never be able to 
 feel whatever he might say " Right or 
 wrong my country ! " 
 
 Don Roberto and I have had a final con-
 
 224 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 versation on the subject of our regard for 
 each other, and I think he is as satisfied as I 
 am that there can be nothing more than 
 friendship between us. He came a few days 
 ago and asked me to decide, one way or the 
 other, whether I would marry him or not; 
 and when I said that I was very, very sorry, 
 but that I was sure I never could, I was quite 
 certain that he felt relieved. I fancy that 
 the last three months have shown him, as well 
 as they have shown me, that our ideas of life 
 
 our beliefs, traditions, intincts, prejudices 
 
 are totally dissimilar; that, because this is 
 true, any fancy that we might have for each 
 other could be only for the moment, and that 
 there is not the slightest foundation for the 
 affection of a lifetime. On my part, the sen 
 timent that, at Christmas time, was so near 
 to being love, has died away; and I truly be 
 lieve that his feeling has changed just as mine 
 has. His real nature is Colombian, and a 
 woman with an American temperament would, 
 after a while, bore him terribly. I think he 
 began to realise this when he went to the car 
 nival, in Barranquilla. I have felt it, more 
 or less, ever since we spent three days in the 
 woods; and with the coming of spring, and
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 225 
 
 the thoughts of the homeland that it has 
 brought me, I have become absolutely sure 
 that this international marriage would be 
 hazardous. And now I am not going to 
 think any more about loving anybody, but just 
 devote my time and attention to early vegeta 
 bles. 
 
 To-day our plantation looks as if there had 
 been a fall of snow, over night, and every 
 coffee plant had been powdered with flakes. 
 All the thousands of trees are in bloom, and 
 anything more daintily, exquisitely lovely 
 than the acres and acres of white flowers it 
 would be difficult to imagine. I have never 
 seen Japan in its cherry blossom season, but 
 I refuse to believe that it is any prettier than 
 a coffee plantation in full bloom. By moon 
 light the effect of snow over the trees is so 
 real that it is startling, and last night when 
 I went out into the cool, pure air, and stood 
 viewing the estate spread out before me, it 
 seemed hardly possible that I was not looking 
 at an early winter landscape in the country, 
 at home. The blossoms are on the trees for 
 only a day or two, but while they last, the 
 place is fairyland.
 
 226 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 April i8th. 
 
 For the past ten days rain has fallen in re 
 freshing quantities every afternoon; the earth 
 is no longer hard and dry, and the vegetation 
 is green, now, instead of dusty white, or faded 
 brown. 
 
 Yesterday, and last night, we entertained a 
 " commission " from Santa Marta that is, 
 a military force consisting of a captain and 
 twelve men; the officer was our guest, in the 
 house, while the privates bivouacked outside. 
 The squad was sent here to recover rifles said 
 to have been stolen from the government, and 
 the other plantations are being similarly vis 
 ited. Nearly all of the mozos were in the 
 revolution at one time or another, but when 
 they retired to a civilian's life, they " laid 
 down their arms " only figuratively, while lit 
 erally they one and all retained them for per 
 sonal and private use. This was done all 
 over the country, so now that the war is over, 
 the government is sending out these " com 
 missions " to gather up the guns wherever 
 they can be found. 
 
 The phrase " arms stolen from the gov 
 ernment " reminds me of the way in which, 
 when I was in Bogota, both the liberals and
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 227 
 
 the conservatives used to encourage them 
 selves and their parties by making statements 
 which were exactly alike, but which were pre 
 sented in such opposite forms that they 
 sounded like contradictory propositions. One 
 day, for instance, I heard a liberal sympa 
 thiser say, boastingly, " Soon the government 
 will not have any arms left: the liberals are 
 seizing them in all parts of the country." 
 That very evening a conservative remarked to 
 me "The liberals are in a bad way: they 
 have no arms at all, except those they have 
 stolen from the government ! " 
 
 We spent Easter in Santa Marta, going 
 down last Thursday, and coming up again 
 Tuesday the day before yesterday. Kent 
 did not return with us, as he has gone to Cu 
 racao on business, and will be away for two 
 or three weeks. We stayed at the hotel while 
 we were down the hotel that must once 
 have been a fine old Spanish residence, but in 
 which, at present, one eats in the stable yard; 
 or else the mules, pigs and chickens have their 
 quarters in the dining hall-- 1 have never 
 been able to make out which arrangement it 
 it. The menage is so purely Colombian that 
 I like to stop at the house, occasionally, for
 
 228 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 a bit of native atmosphere and local colour. 
 During Holy Week, Santa Marta was al 
 most entirely given over to religious observ 
 ances, scarcely any business being done. The 
 churches were decorated with quantities of 
 lamps, candles and flowers, natural and arti 
 ficial, much more than they were at Christmas 
 time, and in some of the chancels were plat 
 forms or stages on which were represented 
 scenes from the life of Christ. In one was 
 The Temptation on the Mount, with full- 
 sized figures of Christ and the devil; another 
 had the tomb, guarded by Roman soldiers 
 real men, in Roman armor, who walked, all 
 day long, up and down in front of the sepul 
 chre. We went to the cathedral on both 
 Good Friday and Easter Sunday. On Friday 
 there was no music; the whole interior of the 
 church was heavily draped in black, and at 
 one time all the candles were extinguished and 
 the place was in complete darkness for several 
 minutes. Then a great curtain which hung 
 before the altar was rent in twain, and there 
 were sounds as of thunder, and stones falling 
 one upon another. During part of Saturday 
 the little square in front of the cathedral was 
 thronged with persons gathered to see Judas
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 229 
 
 hanged in effigy. The stuffed figure was sus 
 pended from a rope stretched across the street, 
 just over the heads of the crowd, and it was 
 left there for several hours without doubt 
 conveying some manner of edification to a 
 people whose sensibilities would hardly be 
 touched by any less material form of teaching. 
 Monday morning we took the little Santa 
 Marta railroad and went out to spend the 
 day on one of the banana plantations of the 
 United Fruit Company. We had a delight 
 ful time, and acres of banana trees are a beau 
 tiful and impressive sight beautiful espe 
 cially when there is a slight breeze blowing, 
 and all the great leaves are waving to and 
 fro. But Oh ! it was so hot, and there were 
 so many mosquitoes ! I am very glad to have 
 been there; to have walked under the trees, 
 in the shade of those broad leaves, and to 
 have seen growing thousands upon thousands 
 of bunches of bananas; but for every day in 
 the year, I am happier to be staying on a 
 coffee finca, four thousand feet above the sea. 
 
 May I 
 
 About ten days after we came up from 
 Santa Marta, Willie was taken ill. He had
 
 230 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 a bad cold, and a fever that we could not 
 break, and I began, then, to understand what 
 it means to be twenty miles from a doctor. 
 A steamer happened to be in, and its physi 
 cian came up here, but he could stay only over 
 night, so I suppose it was not his fault that 
 he did not do any good. Willie grew worse 
 instead of better, and the only thing to be 
 done was to take the little fellow to the coast. 
 Two men carried him down in a hammock, 
 and Mr. and Mrs. Martin rode with them 
 La Nina Eva with Dollie, the baby, in her 
 arms. 
 
 They have been gone two weeks, and 
 though Willie is much better, I have no idea 
 when they are coming back, and I am so 
 lonely that if the disagreeable Englishman 
 should come riding up, I think he would be 
 surprised at his welcome. I never realised, 
 before, how large this plantation is, and how 
 far away; and now, for the first time, my at 
 tention is drawn to the fact that the servants 
 speak nothing but Spanish. The sun appears 
 to be setting so much earlier than usual, too; 
 before I know it, the daylight fades, and the 
 house begins to grow dark, and though I 
 hurry from room to room, and light the
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 231 
 
 lamps, there are still shadows in the corners, 
 and the evenings are several hours longer than 
 they were two weeks ago. I seem to be in 
 finite distances from home and from any one 
 that I care for. I wonder how far it is from 
 here to Curacao. 
 
 Everything has gone steadily wrong ever 
 since Mr. and Mrs. Martin went away. The 
 cook has been getting married, and has taken 
 up her residence in a rancho on top of the 
 hill. It is long, long after the usual time 
 when she comes down to make our coffee in 
 the morning, but the dinner is ready by five 
 o'clock in the afternoon, in order that the 
 bride may go away early enough to prepare 
 the evening repast in her own home. Yester 
 day, when I called her attention to the eccen 
 tricity of her meal hours, she said, " In the 
 morning you tell me I am too late, and in the 
 evening you say I am too early, so how am I 
 to know what you mean?" When I first 
 came up to El Cafetal, and heard Mrs. Mar 
 tin say, " Well, I am going to despatch the 
 cook," the remark sounded, to my unaccus 
 tomed ears, rather ominous. I have since 
 learned that the cook is despatched three times 
 a day, and that the term implies no more than
 
 232 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 the giving out of rice, lard, platanos and me- 
 langa; but during the past few days I have 
 earnestly wished that I could carry out the 
 idea in its English, rather than its Colombian 
 signification. 
 
 Almost every man, woman and child on the 
 place has taken this occasion to develop some 
 internal disorder, and morning, noon and 
 night they come to me for " remedies" 
 Mrs. Martin keeps a stock of medicines on 
 hand, and that is all very well, for she knows 
 what they are, and when to give them, and 
 how much ; but I do not know, and such things 
 really ought not to be experimented with. 
 The people come to the door of the despensa, 
 and ask for some more of the stuff that La 
 Nina Eva always gives them, out of a blue 
 bottle; but as there are four blue bottles, and 
 I do not feel competent to choose among them, 
 I refuse to give them any remedio at all, and 
 then they ask me, very pointedly, how soon I 
 think La Nina Eva is coming back. I do not 
 believe that there is anything very wrong 
 with most of these applicants for medical 
 treatment, but to-day there has been a case 
 that was really serious. The housemaid had 
 an " ataque," and I hope I shall never, never
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 233 
 
 have to see another one. An ataque is a sort 
 of fit, and in this instance it looked like a com 
 bination of hydrophobia and lock-jaw. The 
 girl's paroxysms were so violent that four 
 persons could scarcely hold her in the bed. 
 She stiffened herself out so that she could be 
 lifted from the shoulders as if she were a 
 stick of wood; she doubled herself backwards 
 until her head and feet almost met; her eyes 
 protruded; her face was horribly white, 
 though she is an Indian; she foamed at the 
 mouth and her teeth were locked, so that it 
 was impossible to force anything between 
 them. After a while she grew calmer; then 
 she lay and gasped for breath, and it seemed 
 as if she could not live a moment longer. 
 Presently, however, she showed a great desire 
 to sleep, and I thought that would be good 
 for her, but the other women said it would be 
 dangerous to allow it, so they carried her out 
 of doors, and forced her to walk up and 
 down, one supporting her on each side. 
 Gradually she became more like a rational 
 being, and now she is quite sane and quiet. 
 She is very weak, but as her teeth are no 
 longer set, she can receive stimulants and 
 nourishment, and they tell me that by to-
 
 234 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 morrow she will be nearly as well as ever. 
 If El Senor Consul could have warned 
 me that I was going to be left alone with 
 people who were subject to ataques, I do 
 not know that I should have had the courage 
 to come; but as it is, even in the midst of these 
 melancholy experiences, I do not regret that 
 I made the experiment. I have been at El 
 Cafetal almost a year, now. I like the life; 
 and I am glad to have lived it, and to have 
 felt for myself the quick, strong heart-beats of 
 a new country. ' To be in a new land 
 with an old friend."- - It seems to me that 
 Kent is a long time in Curacao. 
 
 May 22d. 
 
 Things went on, from bad to worse, until 
 two days ago. Then a mozo brought up a 
 note from Mrs. Martin in which she said that 
 Willie was so much better that they had de 
 cided that it would not be necessary to stay 
 in Santa Marta any longer, and that they 
 were coming up the next day yesterday. 
 I was so happy I could have danced for joy, 
 but I only sang, as I flew about the house, 
 making everything ready. The children 
 were as excited as I was, and together we
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 235 
 
 gathered roses and put them everywhere in 
 the rooms, and made a little fire in the sala, 
 that there might not be the least possibility 
 of chill or dampness. Breakfast was ordered 
 for twelve o'clock, as I knew that the travel 
 lers would leave Santa Marta very early in or 
 der not to be overtaken by the afternoon rains. 
 At half past eleven the table was decorated 
 with flowers; everything was ready, and the 
 children and I, in cleanest and freshest of 
 gowns, began to look down the road for the 
 first moving speck in the distance. But at 
 twelve there was no one in sight at half 
 past twelve at one. Alva began to cry, 
 and my heart grew heavier and heavier every 
 instant. At half after one we sat down to 
 breakfast, alone, and how I hated the sight 
 of the flowers ! 
 
 " Oh, never mind," I said, quite gayly to 
 the children. " They will surely come to 
 
 morrow." 
 
 " Of course Willie is worse," I told my 
 self, gloomily. " They won't be here, now, 
 for weeks and weeks, and in the meantime 
 the world will probably come to an end." 
 
 It had begun to rain soon after twelve, and 
 it poured until five. Then the sun came out
 
 236 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 brilliantly, and as the house had been grow 
 ing emptier and emptier all the afternoon, I 
 felt as if I could not stay in it another min 
 ute, and I went down to my garden. The 
 day before, everything there had seemed to 
 be doing finely all the young plants jump 
 ing up in the spring rains, and looking green 
 and prosperous. But, now, I noticed that 
 worms were eating the hearts out of the cab 
 bages; that some one had carelessly stepped 
 on the cucumber vines and broken off two 
 cucumbers, and that all the beds were discour- 
 agingly full of weeds. I walked aimlessly 
 about for a while, then I went on, a little be 
 yond the garden, under some banana trees, out 
 of sight of the house and the road. The sun 
 was beginning to go down ; I knew with what 
 terrible swiftness it would disappear, once it 
 reached the horizon, and I saw that it was 
 time to go back to the children, and to light 
 the lamps in those lonely, lonely rooms. 
 The rain-drops from the broad banana leaves 
 fell on my head as I made my way up the 
 slope, but as my face was already wet with 
 tears, a little more water made no difference. 
 Just as I was thinking this, I heard hurried 
 steps behind me. I stopped and looked
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 237 
 
 around; and there, in the light of what had 
 suddenly become the most beautiful sunset I 
 have ever known, stood, as it seemed, an 
 angel; a wet and very muddy man angel, 
 in riding clothes. As we looked at each 
 other, I suppose he saw my tears, and I saw 
 something in his face that made my heart 
 beat. There was no question asked or 
 answered between us; there seemed to be no 
 need of any. I cried, " Oh, Kent! Kentl " 
 but then, for several minutes, not another 
 word was spoken. 
 
 " But, little one," Kent said, after that in 
 terval; " do you realise what you are doing? 
 I've put every cent I have, and more, too, 
 into that land up there, and for the next five 
 years, at least, I've got to stay on it. There 
 will be no Europe " 
 
 The reply that I made to this was, for a 
 governess, a most disgraceful one. If Car- 
 melita had said anything of the kind, I should 
 have pointed out to her, with maps, that the 
 situation was geographically impossible. 
 
 " For all I care," was my sweeping asser 
 tion, " Europe may be at the bottom of the 
 Red Sea." 
 
 It is evident that Kent is not keen about
 
 238 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 
 
 geography, for he seemed to find this state 
 ment in every way satisfactory. 
 
 But in a moment or two he remarked, in a 
 regretful tone ; ' Well, I suppose you'd bet 
 ter go up and see Mrs. Martin." 
 
 "Mrs. Martin!" 
 
 11 Certainly." 
 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 " At the house. They are all there." 
 
 " They can't be " 
 
 " But they are" 
 
 " How did they come? Why didn't they 
 come before? " 
 
 " On mules, in the usual way. Because 
 they had to go so slowly, on Willie's account, 
 that they were caught in the rain, and have 
 been in a rancho, down the road, all the after 
 noon, waiting for it to clear up. As soon as 
 it did, they came on." 
 
 "But you ?" 
 
 " I got to Santa Marta at eleven o'clock 
 this morning, and left there at twelve. I 
 caught up with the Martins about half an 
 hour ago, just as they were leaving the rancho 
 below here, and we rode the rest of the way 
 together. When we got here, the children
 
 COFFEE AND A LOVE AFFAIR 239 
 
 said you were out somewhere around the 
 garden, and I offered to find you as I 
 have 
 
 " Now, shall we go up to the house? " 
 
 THE END
 
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