The young volcano explorers

Three days passed swiftly by. There was much to be seen in San Juan, and the boys were out most of the time, only resting during the middle of the day, when the heat was too much for them.

During these days they visited various public buildings and also the main college and two of the principal churches. They learned that the city had seven parks, and in one, the Plazuela de Santiago, they saw a life-like statue of Columbus. They also visited the governor’s palace, built by Ponce de Leon, and the Santa Catalina fortifications. But what interested them more than anything was the small, huddled up native shops, with their quaint keepers and their grand mixture of merchandise, and the still more strange markets, with many vegetables and fruits new to them. To these shops came the native ladies, but they never dismounted from their carriages but made the shop-keepers bring out everything to them.

“They try to live as lazy and easy a life as they can,” was Mark’s comment. “How American energy must open their eyes.”

“The professor told me that San Juan used to be an awfully dirty town,” said Sam. “But as soon as our soldiers took hold they made the citizens clean up, and the place has been kept clean ever since. That helps to lessen disease and is certainly a blessing.”

During the stay in San Juan all the boys received letters from home, and one which Hockley got contained a money order which pleased him greatly. He had written that he must have money, that Professor Strong would allow him next to nothing, and his over-indulgent father had relented and sent him two hundred dollars.

“Now I’ll have some good times,” the bully told himself. “And the rest of the fellows can go to grass.”

The letters received by Mark and Frank contained news of unusual interest to them. It was to the effect that Mr. Newton and Mr. Robertson had started for the West Indies on a trip combining business with pleasure. They intended to stop off at Kingston, Jamaica, and were then going to St. Pierre, Martinique, and to Kingstown, on the island of St. Vincent. The business was one connected with the importation of certain dyes and coloring matters which the dry goods importer was anxious to obtain.

“I wish we could meet them down here!” cried Frank, enthusiastically, when telling the others the news.

“Perhaps we’ll meet them at St. Pierre,” said the professor. “I had planned to take you down there after our trip overland to Ponce. You wanted to see an extinct volcano and there is a large one there called Mont Pelee, only a few miles from the city.”

“Just the thing!” burst out Mark. “Let us write letters at once and send them to St. Pierre, so our fathers will be sure to get them on their arrival.” And the letters were sent without delay.

Two days later found them on the ancient military road which runs from San Juan to Ponce. The direct distance from the principal seaport on the north to the capital city on the south is only forty-five miles, but the road is a winding one, running from village to village and town to town, and by this the journey becomes almost twice as long. At many points the way is exceedingly hilly, so that fast traveling, especially in the hot sun, is out of the question.

“We will take our time and make a week’s journey of it,” said the professor. “That will give us time to stop off at the various points of interest. We shall go through the towns of Rio Piedras, Guaynabo, Aguas Buenas, Caguas, Cayey, Aibonito, Coamo, Juan Diaz, and others, and we may as well take in all there is to see while we are at it.”

“I’d rather get down to Ponce and put in some time there,” grumbled Hockley. “I understand there is lots to see there.” He was anxious to have a “good time” on the money he had received.

“We will have plenty of time at Ponce to see all there is worth looking up,” answered Professor Strong.

The boys had begged to be allowed to make the journey on horseback, and the professor had consented, and obtained the necessary steeds from the best livery stable in San Juan. Darry wanted a lively animal but Amos Strong shook his head.

“You’ve had runaways enough,” he said. “We want to make this journey without accident.”

The day was a perfect one and they found the first stage of the journey truly delightful. They passed through a rolling country and not far away were the mountains, with ridges sharply outlined against the sky. Some of the boys wanted to gallop ahead of the others but Amos Strong held them in check.

“We must keep together,” he said. “I don’t want any of you to get on the wrong road.”

In a couple of hours they passed through the town of Rio Piedras, taking a look at the various public buildings and at a large sugar mill which was in the course of construction. It was midday and the place looked deserted.

“Shall we remain here or push on to the next place?” asked the professor.

“Let’s push on,” said Mark, and soon they were on the way to Guaynabo, where they stopped for dinner at a native house which was far from large and not over clean. Yet a good meal was prepared for them, and this they ate eagerly, for the ride had given them an appetite.

Nightfall found them in the vicinity of Aguas Buenas. They had stopped a dozen times on the road, to look at the plantations, and once to assist a native whose ox cart had broken down. It had begun to cloud up and now a few drops of rain came down.

“We are in for a storm,” said Frank. “I reckon we had best look for some sort of shelter.”

“Why not push on to the next town?” questioned Sam.

“We can try it,” answered Professor Strong. “But there is no use of our getting soaked.”

Tropical storms are apt to come up in a hurry, and inside of a quarter of an hour it was raining in torrents. They had crossed the bridge of a small stream and now they found shelter under the shed of a long warehouse which was old and empty.

“This is certainly a downpour,” remarked Professor Strong, when they were out of it. “See how the water is rushing along the roadway.”

He was right, the rain was coming down as if there had been a cloudburst. There was a little lightning and thunder, but not enough to cause alarm. But the heavy fall of water made the very roof of the old warehouse sag.

“I never saw the water come down like this before,” observed the professor, as the downfall continued. “It will certainly wash things out in the valley.”

For over an hour the heavy fall of rain continued. It was coming through the roof of the warehouse and they had trouble in keeping even comparatively dry. But now the thunder was rolling up to the northward, and it slacked a trifle.

“Hark!” cried Sam, presently.

“What did you hear?” came from several of the others.

“Thought I heard somebody calling for help. Listen!”

They listened, and the cry was repeated. It came from down a side trail which joined the highway just in front of the old warehouse.

“Somebody is in trouble down there!” ejaculated Mark. “Let us go and investigate.”

Without waiting to obtain permission from the professor, he started down the side trail, with the others following. The trail led downward into something of a bottom, full of loose rocks, with here and there a patch of mud.

“I see her!” cried Mark, presently, as he turned a corner of the trail and came in sight of a wide and shallow stream, backed up by a rocky hill and a tangle of forest growth. “It’s a woman on a hut, and she is in danger of drowning!”

Mark was right. In the middle of the wide stream was a native hut which had been washed away from somewhere and become lodged in between the rocks. On the frail building, which looked as if it might go to pieces at any instant, sat an old colored woman, shrieking for help at the top of her voice. The old woman had with her two children, a white girl and a white boy of perhaps five or six years of age, and to these she was clinging desperately.

“Save us! save us!” cried the colored woman, in Spanish.

“We’ll do what we can,” called back the professor. “Hold tight till we can get to you.”

“How are you going to get to her?” demanded Hockley. “That water is running like mad.”

“I think we can leap from rock to rock,” suggested Sam.

“Let’s take hold of hands,” came from Frank.

“One of you run back for that rope which we saw at the warehouse,” said the professor, and Hockley did so, for the lank youth had no desire to risk his life in that foaming and dashing torrent.

It was no easy matter to leap from one rock to the next, and Professor Strong and the boys advanced with caution. The rain still came down, keeping the footholds wet and blinding their eyesight. Once Mark slipped and went into the stream, but fortunately it was in a shallow where the water only reached to his knees.

At last the hut was gained and with trembling hands the old colored woman handed down first the girl and then the boy. By this time Hockley had returned with the rope, and this was passed out and a line was formed.

“See the children safe first, do not mind me,” said the old colored woman, and this was done, and Mark took one while Sam took the other. Then Frank and Professor Strong brought in the old colored dame, who was so excited and exhausted that she could scarcely stand. Once on the bank of the stream the whole party made for the shelter of the warehouse.

It was a long while before the colored woman recovered sufficiently to speak. Then she said that she was a nurse, and that she worked for a certain Señor Alcamba, of Ponce. The two children were the señor’s, his only beloved ones, since his wife had died. The nurse had been traveling from one village to another with them, when the storm had overtaken her and she had resolved to remain for some hours at the home of a friend. But she had lost her way in the rain and sought shelter in the hut near the bank of the stream. Without warning the rain had washed the hut into the water and she had had a desperate struggle to save the boy and the girl from drowning. She had been almost ready to give up in despair when the good Americanos had appeared. She was very, very grateful and kissed their hands, while tears of gratitude streamed down her fat cheeks.

As it promised to keep on raining for at least several hours it was decided that they should move on to Aguas Buenas. The colored woman said she could ride a horse and she was given Sam’s steed. She carried the little girl, while the professor took the boy. Sam hopped up behind Frank, and thus the entire party reached the town mentioned a little over an hour later. Accommodations were found at a hotel which had just been established by a Porto Rican and an American, and Professor Strong saw to it that the colored woman and her charges were looked after with care. The colored woman sent out a messenger to look up some of her friends and by nightfall a man came with a carriage and made arrangements for taking her and the children away early in the morning.

“I shall not forget you,” said the woman to Professor Strong. “Señor Alcamba shall know of your bravery and kindness, and he will surely reward you.”

“We want no reward,” was the professor’s answer. “We are glad to know that we were able to assist you.”