In the death of Gen. Maceo Cuba loses a man who was without fear, a man of rare intellect, an honest man, and a genuine patriot, whose death will doubtless be avenged by his faithful followers. By Maceo's death Cuba loses one of the most valiant defenders she ever had. After his participation in the ten years' war and his exile to Jamaica, at its unsuccessful termination, his subsequent career has been told in the following interesting sketch: "Early in 1879 a brown-skinned, weather-beaten man arrived in New York on one of the Jamaica steamers. For a month or more he lived alone, without other companionship than that of books. It was Maceo, and the fire of liberty, still smoldering in his breast, was only seeking a favorable opportunity to burst into flame. In a few months he made his way to West Point, where he obtained employment as a hostler. Nobody in the academy dreamed for a moment that the broad-shouldered, dark-browed man who handled the horses so easily had ever smelled the smoke of battle or heard the song of rifle bullets. Day after day on the parade grounds the taciturn man watched the evolutions of the cadets, listened to the commands of the officers, studied the discipline of the place, pored over volumes of military tactics that he had managed to borrow, and added to his natural genius the knowledge of other great generals. Then the dark-skinned hostler, who was regarded as book mad, gave up his position and returned to New York. From New York he went to Costa Rica, taking a hundred or more weighty volumes with him. Some wealthy Cubans had settled in Costa Rica during the war, and they now offered Maceo a tract of land on which to colonize his brave followers. Here for ten years the exiled Cuban worked and studied and dreamed and instructed his fellow-veterans in the modern theories of war. At times he would lecture them; at other times he would give them practical lessons in drilling and in cavalry evolutions. With each day, each week, month, and year his dream of the freedom of Cuba was brighter than before. Never for a moment did he seem to forget the points of his purpose.