Then opened the view of the great harbor within, filled with shipping, and the town beyond, with houses having no chimneys and painted in white and red, and green and pink, with nodding palms and other tropical foliage growing—­all strange enough to a lad who had been all his life north of Cape Cod.

When they had been boarded by the health officer and the custom house officials, the Traveler came to anchor, and for a time all were busy in furling sails and cleaning up the decks, while the captain took a boat and went off to see his consignees.

All day they lay quiet, as the captain did not return and there were no orders to begin to discharge, but toward evening a bumboat came off, with fresh bread, fruits and other things to sell to the crew.

In the bumboat was a boy of about Diego’s age, whom he recognized as an old acquaintance and playmate, and who seemed very much surprised at seeing him on board the American vessel.

Diego went down and had a whispered talk with him, which resulted in his beckoning to Lee to come down.  The second-mate was in charge of the deck, and if he saw them go he took no notice.

Lee had no clothes to take, as he had only two shirts—­one flannel and one woven undershirt, which he had up to this time worn in turn, while he washed the other—­and both were becoming well worn out.

In view of a chance of running away, he had put them both on, in spite of the heat of the day.

Diego’s friend pushed them into a little cubby-hole under the half-deck of the bumboat, saying in Spanish, which Diego translated to Lee: 

“Lie there, lads, and we’ll put you on shore at Regla all right.”

The place was hot and stuffy and there was hardly room to turn round, but they were so anxious to get away that they lay perfectly still for at least an hour.

Then the bumboat shoved off to return to the shore, and in fifteen minutes Lee stood upon foreign soil for the first time.  Forlorn and strange enough he felt, too, and if it had not been for Diego, would have felt almost inclined to go back to the Traveler and her tyrant of a captain.

Every sight and sound which met him when he landed was different from any he had ever experienced before.  Long drays, drawn by mules covered with tasseled harness and bells, and driven by half-naked negroes, groups of dark-complexioned men, with sashes round their waists and gay handkerchiefs on their heads, on top of which they wore felt or straw hats.

They talked with great energy and many gestures as they smoked their cigars.  Diego said they were stevedores and other laborers who had just finished their day’s work.

The streets were paved with small cobble stones, or else not paved at all, and the sidewalk was very narrow and elevated, more like a beach than a walk, and everybody seemed to take to the middle of the street.

Nobody took any notice of the two lads, for sailors were no rarity in those parts, and they worked their way along the narrow, crowded, noisy streets, sometimes jumping to one side to avoid a mule dray or some heavy burden, carried by a number of negroes upon their heads, the bearers singing in chorus to warn people out of the way.