times scanned the horizon for any sign of approaching
pirates by whom they might be attacked. It serves a more satisfactory
purpose nowadays in that it affords one of the loveliest panoramic views to
be found anywhere in Cuba. Not far away, and accessible from the city, is
the Pico de Potrerillo, about 3,000 feet elevation, the highest point in
Central Cuba. Northeast of Trinidad, and reached by rail from Villa Clara,
is Sancti Spiritus, Trinidad's rival in antiquity, both having been
founded, by Velasquez, in the same year. Here also are narrow, crooked
streets in a city of no mean attractions, although it lacks the picturesque
charm of its rival in age. It is an inland city, about twenty-five miles
from the coast, but even that did not protect it from attack by the
pirates. It was several times the victim of their depredations.

VII

_AROUND THE ISLAND: Continued_

The next city, eastward, is Camaguey, in many ways doubtless the best
worth a visit, next to Havana, of any city on the island. It is a place
of interesting history and, for me personally, a place of somewhat mixed
recollections. The history may wait until I have told my story. I think
it must have been on my third visit to the island, early in 1902. On my
arrival in Havana, I met my friend Charles M. Pepper, a fellow laborer in
the newspaper field. He at once informed me that he and I were to start the
next morning for a three or four weeks' journey around the island. It was
news to me, and the fact that my baggage, excepting the suitcase that I
carried, had failed to come on the boat that brought me, led me to demur.
My objections were overruled on the ground that we could carry little
baggage anyway, and all that was needed could be bought before starting, or
along the way. The next morning saw us on the early train for Matanzas. We
spent a week or ten days in that city, in Cardenas, Sagua, Santa Clara, and
Cienfuegos, renewing former acquaintance and noting the changes effected by
the restoration from the war period. That was before the completion of the
Cuba Railway. To get to Camaguey, then known as Puerto Principe, we took
the steamer at Cienfuegos and journeyed along the coast to Jucaro. There,
because of shallow water, we were dropped into a shore boat some four or
five miles from the coast, and there our troubles began. Fortunately, it
was early morning. We got something to eat and some coffee, which is almost
invariably good in Cuba, but