Then the tired women rest under the trees, and chat, and perhaps smoke
until evening. When the hot sun has gone down in the west, they make
their damp and dry clothes up into huge bundles, lift them to their
heads, and plod homeward.
Let us follow them to their homes up on the mountain side. Some of the
huts are built closely together. Others are scattered about on lonely
ledges. Shall we go inside one of these huts? The woman who has just
returned has thrown her burden into a corner.
The fire has been carefully smoldered, and this she now blows into a
flame and then proceeds to prepare the evening meal.
About the other cottages are women squatting on their heels, gossiping
with one another. In the ditch near by little children paddle about.
Their voices are soft and pleasant, and their play merry and
good-natured. We hear no quarreling.
Now their mother calls them to bring in some sticks for the fire. When
these are added to the flame, the firelight shines out in the darkness
and guides the father on his homeward way.
He has been working on the coffee plantation near, and is now climbing
the narrow, winding path up the hill with his load of plantains. Perhaps
the wife will cook some for supper.
The children satisfy their hunger, and then creep into their corner or
hammock and are soon fast asleep.
