228 EXPLORING FOR CASTILLOA RUBBER 



THIRD LETTER. 



CAMP IGUANA CLOSE QUARTERS PROVISIONS Low LUCAS CRUZ THE FOREST 

 PRIMEVAL BEES AND RUBBER THE NATIVES' HORROR OF GOLD A LAND WITHOUT 

 LAW BREAKING CAMP MOUNTAIN CLIMBING AT LAS MINAS THE PLANTATION 

 "LAS MARGHARTIAS" FOURTH OF JULY FIESTA ON BOARD THE QUARTOS HERMANOS 

 PANAMA, COLON, AND NEW YORK. 



THE ride to Iguana, as I was saying when my last letter came to 

 a close, was delightful. Part of the way lay through dense 

 forest, where some of the trees measured from ten to twelve 

 feet in diameter, then perhaps it was through an abandoned Indian farm, 

 grown up to jungle, but still producing mangoes, bananas, and alligator 

 pears; by climbing hills that seemed to go straight up in the air, and 

 sliding down others that were even straighter; frightening big iguanas 

 and little lizards; stepping gingerly over six-inch-wide columns of leaf 

 carrying ants; always on the lookout for wild pigs, deer, or turkeys to 

 replenish our larder; we proceeded, the whole journey full of variety 

 and incident. The hut at Iguana, with a little repairing, gave us barely 

 room to stretch out comfortably at night, and had any one man chosen 

 to stretch himself diagonally across the pole bed, there would have been 

 no room for the rest. The hut was open on three sides, was about nine 

 feet wide, seven feet high in front, and five feet in the rear, roofed with 

 palm, and had an earth floor. We used our navy bags as hold-alls 

 by day and pillows by night, and slept peacefully, except when our 

 feet went through the side of the hut, or a leak in the roof let in too much 

 water. 



Our first meal there seemed the most delicious I had ever eaten. 

 It consisted of canned smoked beef (the edges of the slices were too 

 far spoiled to eat, but the middle was good), fried bread sweetened with 

 condensed milk, boiled rice, and coffee. The meat was cooked over an 

 open fire and served on big, wild banana leaves. Nor shall I forget 

 the first night the almost deafening chirping of the crickets and tree 

 frogs, the queer cries of the night birds, the steady drip of the dew from 

 the trees like a slow rain, and the fireflies how big and beautiful they 

 were, and how still the air was, so that the flame of the candle went 

 straight up with never a quiver. 



To assist in the exploration of this part of the tract was Lucas Cruz, 

 an old rubber cutter, the builder of the hut in which we were installed. 



