FIRST LETTER. 
To Panama in the Rainy Season — Fortune Island — Colon — Along the Pan- 
ama Canal — Panama City — The Almirante — Toboga Island — Queer Fish- 
Sleeping in the Rain — The Quebro Outlaws — El Capitals Fears — Almost 
Wrecked — In the Lee of Gurernador — The “Pioneer” Comes Aboard — Ashore 
at Last. 
I T was decidedly against my better judgment that I found myself 
en route for Central America in May, due to reach the infant 
Republic of Panama during the rainy season, and when the 
yellow fever might be too easy of acquisition. Nevertheless, there I 
was, a passenger on the Allianca , with two fellow adventurers, while 
a third was waiting our arrival in Panama City. The exploring party 
consisted of four — the "Prospector,” a well known mining engineer ; the 
"Scout,” then in Panama, getting together supplies, engaging guides, 
and chartering a schooner ; the "Commodore,” and the writer. My 
task was the examination of some eight hundred square miles of wild 
lands, privately owned and long forgotten. 
The voyage to Cplon was uneventful, but enjoyable, although it 
grew warmer each day, and side awnings and wind scoops told of 
increasing nearness to the tropics. In due time Bird Island Rock was 
sighted, where is a lighthouse, flagstaff, and thirteen cocoanut palms, 
but no sign of life on the dazzling white beaches. Later came Fortune 
Island, and stopping far off shore, the one white resident came to us in 
a jolly boat rowed by a half dozen husky negroes, and got his mail. 
Although the sea was as smooth as glass, of a wonderful, indescribable 
blue, and the little cluster of houses in the distance, in a setting of 
graceful palms with foreground of snowwhite beaches, was .most 
beautiful, the heat was killing, and we were glad when the steamer left 
it all behind. Later the light on Cape Maisi, Cuba, was raised, and 
then came the boisterous and lonely Caribbean Sea. Heavy thunder 
storms were soon frequent, and the heat during the day was intense, 
but the nights, as the moon was full, were glorious. Finally, on the 
last day of May, at eleven in the morning, we sighted the rugged coast 
of Colombia, shadowed by masses of deep cloud, and not long after we 
were in Colon. 
Although soon transferred to the train that crosses the Isthmus, we 
had a chance to see the building where twenty-four United States 
2or 
