Approaching Cuba as Columbus did--across the narrow stretch of sea from San Domingo--you first sight the long, low promontory of the eastern tip, which the discoverer named Point Maysi. So different is the prospect from that seen at the other end of the island, as you come down in the usual route from New York or Florida, that you can hardly believe it is the same small country. From Maysi Point the land rises in sharp terraces, backed by high hills and higher mountains, all so vague in mist and cloud that you do not know where land ends and sky begins. Coming nearer, gray ridges are evolved, which look like cowled monks peering over each other's shoulders, with here and there a majestic peak towering far above his fellows--like the Pico Turquino, 11,000 feet above the sea. Sailing westward along this south shore, the "Queen of the Antilles" looks desolate and forbidding, as compared to other portions of the West Indies; a panorama, of wild heights and sterile shores, and surge-beaten cliffs covered with screaming sea birds. At rare intervals an opening in the rock-bound coast betrays a tiny harbor, bordered by cocoa palms, so guarded and concealed by hills, and its sudden revelation, when close upon it, astonishes you as it did the first explorer. According to tradition, everyone of these was once a pirate's lair, in the good old days we read about, when "long, low, suspicious-looking craft, with raking masts," used to steal out from sheltered coves to plunder the unwary. Each little bay, whose existence was unknown to honest mariners, has a high wooded point near its entrance, where the sea robbers kept perpetual watch for passing merchantmen and treasure-laden galleons, their own swift-sailing vessels safe out of sight within the cove; and then, at a given signal out they would dart upon the unsuspecting prey like a spider from his web. Among the most notorious piratical rendezvous was Gauntanamo, which our warships are said to have shelled two or three times of late. In recent years its narrow bay, branching far inland like a river, has become of considerable consequence, by reason of a railway which connects it with Santiago, and also because the patriot army, hidden in the nearby mountains, have entertained hopes of overcoming the Spanish garrison and making it a base for receiving outside assistance. Before the war there were extensive sugar plantations in this city, now all devastated. The Cobre mountains, looming darkly against the horizon, are the great copper and iron range of Cuba, said to contain untold mineral wealth, waiting to be developed by Yankee enterprise. In earlier days $4,000,000 a year was the average value of Cuba's copper and iron exports; but in 1867 6,000,000 tons were taken out in less than ten months. Then Spain put her foot in it, as usual. Not content with the lion's share, which she had always realized in exorbitant taxes on the product, she