Bidwell's Travels, from Wall Street to London Prison: Fifteen Years in Solitude
Of course, my great danger lay in meeting soldiers who would stop me.
Indeed any one who met a stranger and a foreigner heading west would
either stop him or give an alarm, and if once arrested (passports so
near the enemy's camp were useless) it meant death, or what was quite as
bad, incarceration in a filthy prison until my case was reported on to
the Captain-General in Havana. That, of course, meant my return to
Havana and possibly to England.
Everything is very primitive in Cuba. The common people--that is, the
whites and free people--live in mere huts or cabins, and sleep in
hammocks under roofs open on two sides. All go to bed soon after sunset,
so there was no danger in night traveling, save only in meeting the
sentries or running on some detached post of soldiers.
In case of meeting these, I had resolved to plunge into the tropical
jungle which came close down to the beach.
Neither night traveling nor the situation had any terrors for me. I
felt my only danger lay in stumbling upon some outpost or sentry who
might perceive me before I saw him and so cover me with his rifle before
challenging, but I knew from observation since my arrival in Cuba that
the discipline among the Spanish soldiers was very slack, and I had a
pretty firm belief that isolated sentries usually took a nap while
waiting the relief.
After leaving Nunn I started out at a quick pace, alert and confident.
The moon had gone down, but the Caribbean Sea was lovely in the
starlight, and between watching the phosphorescent ripples of the waters
and listening to the night noises of the jungle I soon discovered I was
enjoying my jaunt and found myself anticipating the pleasure of the
free, open life ahead of me when once beyond the Spanish outposts and a
soldier of fortune. I thought what a story of adventure I would have to
relate when a year or two later I rejoined my wife and friends, and I
felt that a good record won in a fight for "free Cuba" would make men
willing to forget my past.
I found my westward march frequently interrupted by spooks--some rock,
stump or bush would, to my suspicious eye, take on the human form until
I thought it was a sentry on guard and meant danger. Once or twice I
sought the shelter of the jungle and spent a long time watching for some
sign of movement. On one occasion I painfully made a circuit of nearly a
mile to pass a projecting mass of bushes in the belief that there were
men behind it. The air was balmy as on a June night at home. I trudged
along with my two bottles of water slung across my shoulder tied to a
cord, and between them and my revolvers and cartridges I was pretty well
loaded down.
Nowhere during the night did I come across any fresh water, but was
fated to have a water adventure before daylight which I did not relish.
Soon after midnight I sat down on the sand well in the shadow of some
palmetto trees and had a very enjoyable lunch of bread and dried beef,
washed down by water from my bottle; then lighting a cigar and reclining
at full length on the dry sand I passed a pleasant half hour enjoying
the fine Havana. I looked forward to the hours of daylight to be spent
reclining at ease in the jungle with many anticipations of pleasure. I
had a supply of fine cigars, plenty to think about, and the
consciousness of having overcome serious difficulties gave me a feeling
of elation--then my surroundings were so novel and I was fond of outdoor
life.
At 4 o'clock the sky put on a ragged edge of gray in the east, and
feeling pretty well satisfied with my progress I began to think of
selecting a retreat for the hours of daylight. Suddenly I found myself
upon what was evidently the neck of a swamp extending far and wide into
the land. I had discovered during the night that there was a
well-traveled road skirting and following the beach at a distance of a
few hundred yards, but there was danger of my meeting some one there, so
I stuck to the beach.
In the middle of the swamp was a clear space of water with marshy banks.
As it was nearly daylight, and being in no hurry, my presence in the
country unknown, and in no immediate danger, I determined to halt and
not tackle the swamp until nightfall again. Then, if seen by any one, I
would have some hours of darkness to make myself scarce in the
neighborhood.
Turning to follow the edge of the swamp I saw before me on a little
lower level than where I stood in the sand what appeared a plot of vivid
green grass, and without any precaution stupidly stepped with my full
weight upon it, and instantly found myself floundering in four feet of
mud and water. I had fallen, and getting back on the solid ground I
found myself wet to the shoulders, my legs covered with mud and my
pistols, bread, etc., soaking with salt water. At once I ran across the
beach and sat down in the warm water of the sea, washing off the mud
as well as possible. Then I made my way into the jungle, crossing the
road, and going into the thicket a short distance sat down waiting for
daylight, purposing to remain concealed near enough to the road to see
all passers-by, so that I might judge what sort of people I was among.
As the ground where I stood was low and wet, and my clothes soaking, I
feared catching the fever, so made my way well back to where some fallen
trees had made a rift in the dense mass of trunks, creepers and foliage,
letting in the sunlight. There I pulled off my garments to dry, taking
great care not to let any of the poisonous leaves come into contact with
my flesh, and made myself comfortable, sitting down to lunch nearly in
the state of nature. I was more concerned over my damaged cigars than my
dampened cartridges. On examination I found the cigars but slightly wet,
so, spreading them out to dry along with the drapery, I lit one and
surveyed the position. As the moisture was already steaming out of my
garments I took matters cheerfully and considered the outlook good.
Having finished one of my bottles of water, I made up my mind to carry
only one, and to take my chance of replenishing that. So long as my
health continued perfect I did not require much water; what I feared was
that my exposure and change of diet might make me feverish; if so, I
would suffer from thirst unless I struck a hilly country.
How much company my watch was to me during those long days and nights! I
was never tired of examining it. About 10 o'clock I made my way to the
road and placed myself in a mass of foliage, where unseen by any one I
had quite a range of the road. Up to this hour I had not seen a soul. At
first I watched the little stretch of road with eagerness, but no one
appearing I turned my attention to watching the evolutions of a huge
yellow spider which was spreading its net near by. While absorbed, and
almost fascinated, I was suddenly roused by the sharp, quick beating of
hoofs on the sandy road. Giving a startled glance, I saw a man unarmed,
but evidently a soldier, gallop quickly by on a mule. Twenty minutes
later an old-fashioned cart containing four half-dressed negroes and
drawn by four wretched mules passed. The men were silent and downcast.
Before 1 o'clock thirty people had passed, several being soldiers of the
guardia civil (armed police).
Then starting to spy out the land from the bushes and vines bordering
the swamp I could see a bridge crossing the neck of the swamp, but,
worst of all, quite a collection of houses at the other side, reaching
down to the beach, and a wharf that ran out into the water quite fifty
yards, with, no doubt, a guardhouse and police station among them. I saw
my way blocked. It seemed certain there would be sentries on guard at
the bridge, or so near it as to make it impossible for me to cross
unobserved. The swamp extended inland apparently for three or four
miles, and the jungle grew so dense as to make it impossible to
penetrate it in an effort to go around, so I determined not to venture
crossing the bridge, but to swim for it.
The swamp spread on both sides of the lagoon, and there was no such
thing as wading in that almost liquid morass, so I tried to find by
daylight a place where the mud was covered with water enough at least to
make swimming possible, but no such place could I find.
Everywhere a black tangled mass of rotting leaves and creepers spread,
making such a horrible slime that I shrank from attempting to cross it
to the open water. Once over that there was the same ordeal to go
through on the other side, and I knew I could only do it at full
length--that is, to lie flat and pull myself along as well as possible.
The simplest way was to wade out into the sea, then to swim far enough
outside of the pier to escape observation from any one who might chance
to be on it.
But this involved the chance of a horrible death, the sea there swarming
with sharks, which at night come in shore. Therefore, after cogitating
the matter, I resolved to attempt the bridge, taking the risk of being
seen. It might prove fatal to be seen, as I would have to bolt back, and
once knowing a fugitive was in the jungle they might turn out and hedge
me in, unless I took the sea route. This I resolved to do, if the one by
the bridge proved impracticable.
So during the afternoon I gathered a small lot of dried limbs and broke
them off in sufficient quantity to make a raft capable of bearing about
twenty pounds. On this I intended to put my revolvers, cartridges,
cigars, etc., and also to rest lightly on it myself, pushing it before
me as I swam. After dark I crossed the road into the jungle skirting the
beach, carrying my raft, and deposited it on the sand. Lying down in the
hot sand near by smoking a cigar, I waited for the moon to go down. I
was doing more than watch the stars and moonlit water. I was saying to
myself, "What a jolly world is this!"
Then, beginning to argue of human destiny, at last I brought the
argument around to Ego, and decided that he was a pretty clever fellow,
and that the world meant to treat him well. So Ego, settling down into a
very comfortable frame of mind, lighting a fresh cigar and looking
across at the dark masses of the coral islets crowned with foliage set
in the mirrored waters, passed two delightful hours.
I watched the moon go down and was not impatient, for the beauty of the
scene more even than the novelty of the position cast a charm over the
spirit and soothed the eye and mind. I wondered how many were seeking me
and how many thousands were speculating over my identity and
whereabouts, yet not one in his wildest imagination could ever picture
the reality of my position in all its strange and magic surroundings.
Through all the coming twenty years, nightly in my dungeon, the
magician memory would unroll that scene from his pictured chambers. It
was all there--the physical that the eye took in and the thoughts evoked
and sent swarming to the brain, there to remain engraved until life and
memory end.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
SHARKS, SALT WATER ONES, AND OTHER THINGS.
The bridge had no protection along the side save a simple stringpiece of
timber. On the far side the houses rested nearly against the bridge
entrance, forming a street, which I had to pass through.
The moon went down at 10, but I could hear loud voices and occasional
bursts of laughter until 11. Then all grew still save the night noises
of the woods and swamps.
At midnight I carried my raft down to the edge of the water, then
leaving it there for use in case of a repulse, with my ironwood stick in
my left hand and my revolver in the right, I marched down to the bridge,
but fearing my upright figure might be seen, dark as it was, outlined