FROM ANCON TO THE ISLAND 37 



Plant growth on the shore runs thick and green 

 even out into the water. It is so dense that a 

 startled animal that has come down for a drink 

 can plunge back through the brush with nothing 

 but the noise of his passing to tell what it was. 



Where a little stream joins the inlet a long dark 

 log lazily moved off and disappeared in the 

 shadowy water. This was a crocodile. It was 

 on his account that we did not swim in the inlet. 



Up the hillside in front of us the island brush 

 had been cut away to make a red clay trail. We 

 alighted at the foot of it and tied the cayuca to 

 a Spanish-bayonet palm (Fig. 18). When I first 

 came over to the island its thorns were as cruel 

 as the weapon they were named after, but they 

 were trimmed away without hurting the tree. 



Fifty feet up the shppery hillside I liked to 

 pause and turn to look back over Gatun Lake. 

 Down the inlet was a lovely view (see frontis- 

 piece) which would have been hidden from this 

 spot if it were not for the trail clearing. It was 

 the only place on this part of the island where 

 the green jungle roof did not shut away the lake. 



An hour by train and an hour by boat it has 

 taken to make the trip from American Ancon to 

 our jungle island. 



