Evening star., 1902-03-15

planter on the 1st Of each October bind
ing himself to work through the ensuing
year for ten cents in cash and ten cents in
food day. Any found after the I'd Of Oc-
tober who had not signed such contract
were punished.
Better Than Formerly.
Even this unsatisfactory arrangement
was so much better than previous condi-
tions that at first there were no complaints
Each October, however, dissatisfaction
grew stronger until, in 1877, the mutter-
ings Of a gathering storm were heard.
and the government announced a repeal of
the law, to take effect three years from
date.
Again they had trumphed The leaders
or the uprising Of 1913 recalled the easy
victory of the past. Three years was a
long time to wait. but still they hesitated
AS the 1st of October, 1873 drew near
however, it was noticed that a new spirit
or 1nsolence had appeared among the la
borers. AS they assembled in the towns
where the contracts were to be renewed
there was much disorder On the morning
OF the first the planters were surprised to
find well-organized opposition to the re-
newal of the contracts. Arguments threats
promises, all proved unavailing. Every
hour fresh bands of negroes armed with
keen machetes, marched into town chant
ing fragments of wild African melodies.
Toward dusk the merchants, fearing trou-
bic. put up their heavy shutters, and the
townsfolk retired to their homes A swift
sloop-there no cable then-set sail
for st. Thomas. bearing urgent appeals for
help from the tiny Danish garrison there.
Refreshment Necessary.
At first the mob was contented with
marching up and down the deserted streets.
bowling the rallying cry: mo more 10
cents day" Shouting a thrst-pro-
ducing exercise; a rum-shop door might,
perhaps. be broken IN. Yes, It was quite
easy, there was refreshment for all at no
expense. The hambeauS of resinous wood
began to wave unsteadily in the hands of
their bearers How easy it would be mere
ly to lay of the torches against the
huge wooden doors of the sugar ware
house! Yes, dry with age, 1t caught fire
quickly. Like children terrified at their
own wickedness. they paused a moment;
the red fire leaped through the building; in
a twinkling the soft b!ue-black of the mid
night tropic sky was hidden by lurid veil
of crimson smoke, shot through and
strong rum seething in their veins. they
danced the wild jungle dances of their
forefathers to its light. With brains
awhirl. they staggered from one building
to another. The red glare crept in through
the closed blinds behind which the fright
ened townsfolk crouched, shuddering with
terror. Wee to those traders whose deal
ings had been harsh or unfair! Only at
they steal from their burning homes to
safety. Brighter grew the glare, back on
the hillSides an answering glare appeared.
Long tongues of flame crept up the hills
from the burning fields of cane. The sites
of the planters homes were marked by
brighter, higher flames. Wilder and mad
der grew the chanting, merely hoarse howls
of savage JOY now, all semb,ance of articu-
late words lost
A Horrible Scene.
The black forms dancing around the
burning buildings stood silhouetted like
fiends around the mouth Of hell. The whole
island was wrapped in flames. Still. strange
as it seems no lives were lost The morn
ing came unseen save for the lighting up
Of the dense blue smoke that filled the
streets. A planter rode bravely into town,
forgetting that these former slaves had
tasted freedom and power. Maddened at
the ruin Of his estate. he rode straight into
the mob, lashing right and left with his
heavy riding whip. For an instant the
crowd fell back, the old instinct still
strong. For an instant it seemed that dar-
ing would succeed. Then huge negro, his
face bleeding from cut of the lash, and
working with brute passion, leaped for
ward and sieZed stirrup. In an instant it
was all over. A swirl of half-naked black
forms, the piercing neigh of a dying horse,
the awful cry, half scream half curse, of
human being in the -throes of fearful
death, and it was done. Seized by a strange
panic, the mob turned and fed. bundle
of red-stained, muddied clothes lay in a
sickening heap, very quiet on the cobble
stones.
OF the deeds done that dreadful day there
remains no record. Gaunt chimneys. tow
ering Ike scared, ungainly monuments
above the smoldering ashes Of the factories
around them. mile after mile of black, un-