Rainbow's End Part 28

The shade was grateful. O'Reilly dozed. He was awakened by being roughly shaken, and he found the man with the derby hat bending over him. The fellow was excited; his eyes were ringed with white; his expression bespoke the liveliest alarm. Loud voices came from the rear of the bohio.

"What's the matter? Spaniards?" Johnnie was on his feet in an instant.

"No, no! Your senorita!" the man gasped, "For the love of G.o.d come quickly." He set off at a run, and Johnnie followed, a prey to sudden sick misgivings.

Around the house they dashed, and into a group the center of which was Norine herself, a gourdful of milk in one hand, a partially devoured mango in the other. At first glance there seemed to be nothing amiss; but the owner of the farm was dancing; he was trying to seize first the mango, then the drinking-vessel. His wife was wringing her hands and crying, shrilly:

"G.o.d have mercy! So young--so beautiful! What a pity!"

The two filibusters and the farmer's eldest son, all visibly perturbed, likewise joined in the commotion, while the smaller children looked on from the background and whimpered.

"What's happened?" O'Reilly demanded, breathlessly.

Norine turned a puzzled face to him, meanwhile warding off the farmer's attack. "I can't quite make out," she said. "They all talk at once.

Please ask them what I've done." Mechanically she raised the ripe mango to her lips, whereupon the ranchero, with a yell, leaped upon her and violently wrenched it out of her fingers.

Facing O'Reilly, the man panted: "There! You saw her! She wouldn't listen to my wife--"

"Oh, I warned her!" wailed the woman. "But it was too late."

"You must tell her what she has done," said the fellow, in the stiff hat.

"Well, what has she done?" Johnnie managed to inquire, whereupon every one began a separate explanation:

"She will never become your wife. ... Look! That's not her first mango.

... Enough to destroy an army. ... You can see for yourself. ... Wait!

Ask her how many she ate. Ask her, senor, I implore you!"

There was a silence while Johnnie translated the question and repeated the answer:

"She says she doesn't remember, they are so nice and ripe--"

"'So nice and ripe'!" shouted the owner of the farm, tearing his hair.

"'So nice and ripe'!" echoed his wife.

'"So nice and ripe'!" groaned the man who had awakened O'Reilly. "Major Ramos told me to guard her with my life because she is the guest of Cuba. Well, I shall kill myself."

The country woman laid a trembling hand upon Norine's arm, inquiring, gently: "How are you feeling, my beautiful dove? Sick, eh?"

"What on earth ails these people?" inquired the object of all this solicitude. "I haven't made away with a baby. Maybe they're afraid I won't pay for my food?"

Light came to O'Reilly. "I remember now," said he. "Mangoes and milk are supposed to be poisonous. The woman wants to know how you feel."

"Poisonous! Nonsense! They taste splendid. Tell her I'm still half starved."

It proved now that one of the three members of the landing-party possessed an unsuspected knowledge of English, which modesty alone had prevented him from revealing. Under the stress of his emotion he broke out:

"Oh, missy! Those fruit is skill you."

"I don't believe it," Miss Evans declared.

"It skill you, all right. Maybe you got a headache here, eh?" The speaker laid a hand upon his abdomen and leaned forward expectantly.

"Nothing but an aching void."

This confession, or a garbled translation of it, was enough for the others; it confirmed their worst fears. The farmer volunteered to ride for the nearest priest, but hesitated, declaring it a waste of time, inasmuch as the lady would be dead in half an hour. His wife ran to the house for her crucifix and rosary, which latter she insisted upon hanging around Norine's neck. After that she directed the men to carry the sufferer indoors, her intention being to make her guest's last moments as comfortable as possible. When Norine refused to be carried she was warned that the least exertion would but hasten the end, which was, alas! all too near.

O'Reilly was impressed, in spite of himself, by this weight of conviction, especially when the Cubans ridiculed his suggestion that the combination of milk and mango might not prove altogether fatal to an American. Nothing, they a.s.sured him, could possibly be deadlier than this abominable mixture.

The victim herself, however, remained skeptical; she alone treated the matter lightly, and although she did finally consent to lie down, it was merely to please the others and because she was tired.

"They have set their minds on seeing me expire, and they're such nice people I'm almost ashamed to disappoint them," she confided to O'Reilly. "But really I'm too hungry to die. Now don't forget to call me when dinner is ready."

"Honestly, do you feel all right?" he asked of her.

"Never better."

The meal was slow in coming, for not only were the cooking arrangements primitive, but the apprehensive housewife could not long remain away from the sick-room. She made frequent visits thereto, and after each she reported in a whisper the condition of the patient. The lady looked very white. ... Her breathing was becoming slower. ... She was unconscious. ... All would soon be over. ... It was better to let her pa.s.s painlessly to paradise than to torture her with useless remedies.

Realizing that the poison had at last begun to work, the men tip-toed to the door and peered in compa.s.sionately, whereupon the sufferer roused herself sufficiently to call them "a lot of rubber-necks" and bid them begone.

"Her mind wanders," explained the man of the house; and then to cheer O'Reilly he added, "She is young and strong; she may linger until evening."

The meal was set at last, however; the men were stealthily attacking it. Suddenly the sick woman swept out from her retreat and sat down among them.

"Senorita! This is suicide!" they implored.

Then, as she ignored them and helped herself liberally to the food, their own appet.i.tes vanished and they pushed themselves away from the table.

With a twinkle in his eye O'Reilly said, gravely, "Dying people have strange fancies. Pray don't thwart her."

Indifference so callous on the part of a lover shocked the Cubans. They rebuked O'Reilly silently; it was plain that they considered Americans a barbarously cold-blooded race. Meanwhile they apprehensively watched Norine's every mouthful.

When, after a time, no ill effects having appeared, she suggested departing, they whispered together. They agreed at last that it was perhaps the course of wisdom to humor her. She was the guest of their Government; it would not do to displease her. Inasmuch as her end was inevitable, it could matter little whether she died here or elsewhere.

Accordingly they saddled their borrowed horses and set out.

All that afternoon Norine was an object of the tenderest solicitude on the part of her three Cuban guides. They momentarily expected to see her stricken. Then when she gave no sign of distress they marveled, and expressed great admiration at her fort.i.tude in enduring pain.

That night was spent at another farm-house. When on the next morning Norine not only was seen to be alive and well, but insisted upon making her breakfast of mangoes and milk, the fellow in the derby hat flung his hands on high and told O'Reilly:

"It is no less than a miracle, but now she courts the wrath of G.o.d, senor! As for me, I shall never again a.s.sociate with eccentric persons who delight to fly in the face of Providence. It is my opinion that all Americans are crazy."

The party had penetrated to the foot-hills of the Sierra de Cubitas now, and as they ascended, the scenery changed. Rarely is the Cuban landscape anything but pleasing. For the most part green pastures sown with stately palm-trees and laid out as if for a picnic alternate with low rolling hills, and in but few places are the alt.i.tudes at all impressive. It is a smiling island. It has been said, too, that everything in it is friendly to man: the people are amiable, warm-hearted; the very animals and insects are harmless. Cuban cattle are shy, but trusting; Cuban horses are patient and affectionate; the serpents have no poison, and although the spiders and the scorpions grow large and forbidding, their sting is ineffective. But here in the Cubitas range all was different. The land was stern and forbidding: canons deep and damp raised dripping walls to the sky; bridle-paths skirted ledges that were bold and fearsome, or lost themselves in gloomy jungles as noisome as Spanish dungeons. Hidden away in these fastnesses, the rebel Government had established its capital. Here, safe from surprise, the soldiers of Gomez and Maceo and Garcia rested between attacks, nursing their wounded and recruiting their strength for further sallies.

It was a strange seat of government--no nation ever had a stranger--for the state buildings were huts of bark and leaves, the army was uniformed in rags. Cook-fires smoldered in the open glades; cavalry horses grazed in the gra.s.sy streets, and wood-smoke drifted over them.

The second evening brought O'Reilly and Miss Evans safely through, and at news of the expedition's success a pack-train was made ready to go to its a.s.sistance. Norine's letter from the New York Junta was read, and the young woman was warmly welcomed. One of the better huts was vacated for her use, and the officers of the provisional Government called to pay their respects.