34 JUNGLE ISLAND 



Halfway across we were above the old village of 

 Frijoles, for ten years now under the lake. San- 

 tiago liked to tell of living there when he was a 

 boy. It was his joke that he was born under 

 water. If he felt talkative he pointed out the old 

 valley of the Chagres River below us and the 

 place where the Frijolita River used to join it, 

 ''right there, Boss Doctor." But all that we 

 could see was the dead tops of trees that used to 

 grow on the banks of the rivers. 



From the south came cayucas bound for Fri- 

 joles Landing, with bananas, oranges, hand- 

 groimd corn for tamales, live chickens, or even 

 pigs with their tied legs sticking stiffly into the 

 air. The Canal is a highway, not only for ocean 

 freighters and passenger ships, but for the negroes 

 living in the small jungle clearings along the shore 

 of the lake and the streams that empty into it. 



On the far side of the Canal channel we entered 

 Barro Colorado Inlet and made for the landing 

 at the very end of it. The paddlers guided them- 

 selves by keeping a water-killed tree shaped like 

 a harp in line with a tall tree on the shore (Fig. 1 7). 

 This channel was not cleared, and we had to be even 

 more careful not to run the cayuca on any of the 

 dead trees hidden under water. Most of the 

 trees were gray and bare, but here and there an 

 orchid clung to the side of one, and closer toward 

 shore in the shade the lower stumps were topped 

 with a heavy growth of ferns and flowers (Fig. 16). 



