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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 





Publishers' Photo Service 

 ABLUTIONS AI, FRESCO! A STREET SCENE IN PANAMA CITY 



face of the Pacific. There were no lights 

 visible, although one knew that some- 

 where fourteen battleships and thirty-six 

 destroyers were playing the war game to- 

 gether. There was not a sound except 

 the rustle of the water thrust back by our 

 blunt prow. 



Suddenly my eyes became aware that a 

 sinister shadow kept silent company with 

 us. At first it seemed only a blob of 

 deeper black. At last I realized that a 

 destroyer was so near by that I might 

 have tossed a biscuit aboard. For the 

 first time I fully realized the deadliness 

 of the boats. 



"Why do we not fire on her?" I asked 

 my companion. 



"We were sunk ten minutes ago," said 

 he. "We're out of action." 



At Panama the heat had been blister- 

 ing, as the ships lay at anchor, under the 

 protection of the cluster of round islands 



that will eventually be fortified for the 

 protection of the canal mouth. The pro- 

 tection is a perfect one. No ship of war 

 can ever hope to get between the meshes 

 of that screen of islands, although the 

 canal remains as undefended from air- 

 craft as is every other secret place in the 

 world. 



But the moment the start was made for 

 waters farther south a cool breeze 

 searched the most remote corners of the 

 ships. Even the old-timers found it diffi- 

 cult to adjust themselves geographically. 



We were bound "up south" and leav- 

 ing the warm neighborhood of the isth- 

 mus for the delicious coolness of the 

 Equator ! 



In the distance we later saw the green 

 shores of Colombia and Ecuador, visible 

 on the horizon as faint lines of cloud. 



The farther south the fleet traveled, the 

 more delightful became the temperature. 



