The Dawson news. (Dawson, Ga.) 1889-current, 1898-01-05
A NEW YEARS GIFT.
THE STORY OF A CUBAN CONVICT BY F. A.
ODER.


As managing editor of The Patriot, Ha-
vana soon became too hot to hold me. Sus-
pected of corresponding with the insur-
gents, was hauled before the tyrant Wey-
Ter at the palace, This was one morning
early. AZ neon | was aboard a train for
Batabano and at night on a steamer for
the isle Of Pines the penal settlement for
political convicts
1t might have been worse, Of course, for
the tribunal might have sent me to Ceuta
on the African coast where chains and
cell would surely have been my portion
Instead however, ! was confined within
the borders of a beautiful island, which
bountiful Providence had provided with
every gift of nature, and deprived only Of
my friends and my habiUual environment
soon after my deportation, having been
landed at one Of the two ports here and
finding the wretched town life not to NV
taste, ! wandered away to the emlnenct
known as the Crystal hill, from the sum
NIT Of which | could look out over the
desolate sea and the forest intervening be
tween it and the plantations. These and
the town lay on the plain eastward Of the
hill Some distance down its western
slope l found the yawuing mouth of a
cave open in the direction Of the sea, its
farther end somewhere within the bowels
of the earth 1t was large and dry, with
immense natural pillars supporting q roof
hung with stalacrites, while a stream of
clear water issued from its uneNplOred in
terror In its outer chamber ! hung a
hammock, fire of gum wood dispensed
warmth and perfume when the nights
were chill, and l thought / should be con
tent here for q month at least or until |
could venture back to Havana.
/ had money and firearms, and prOvi
sions were daily supplied me by faithful
islander whom l had befriended in former
times In the surrounding forest were
many plants and animals which could
afford me sustenanCe if my supply from
town were TO be cut off, and l lacked only
companiOnship to make me perfectly con
tented
If only Olivia were hcrc-Olivia my
fancee If had but married her before
this unfortunate affair But no, this was
no place for a tenderly nurtured woman
like the daughter of the ucaIlc Of san
Cristobal
l sat in the caves mouth one day nj
noon. The heat OF the plains was most
oppressive, but p breeze from the ocean
stirred the leaves of the pines But for
their signing there was no sound to dis
turb the deathike calm till an unfamiliar
clashing of branches caused me to start
and reach out for my rifle, leaning against
q rock nearby
Distracted as was l expected nothing
less than visit from tho Spanish volun
teers who guarded the island, but look
ing up, l saw before me the figure of
girl She was comey and her face shOne
with intelligence, yet ! knew that she be
longed to the serving class 1t was indeed
Carmela, the devoted maid of my ftanccc
She smiled and held out a folded paper
At first my bewtldered senses could hardly
accept this token of her existence, My
vision was blurred. the scene before me
swan in a mist But murmuring vague
ly my thanks took the letter opened it
and read
My father has driven me from his house
Do you love me 2 Will you welcome met ! am
near. OLIVIA
turned to the maid 'Where-where
is she?' | demanded leaping from my
hammock, The girl shrugged her shout !
ders and pointed to the pines on the'brow
of the HILL but vouchsated me no other re-
ply
l scrambled up the rocks and there. |
steadytng herself against the trunk of a |
pine, was my sweetheart} She looked at
me tlmldly, in her eyes a mute inquiry,
as II doubtful Of the reception | would |
offer Not long however was she hest