IN PANAMA 
203 
Here was a deadly, sticky, oppressive heat, with not a breath of 
air stirring. The bare bedrooms were like ovens, and even the cone 
of mosquito netting that hung over the bed was to the imaginaton as 
stifling as a blanket. It was too hot to think of sleep, so we wandered 
about the city, interested, amused, and disgusted — interested by the 
quaint and ancient architecture, amused by the police custom of blowing 
whistles in concert when the clocks struck the hour, and disgusted by 
the smells that many side streets developed. 
The next morning after coffee we went down to the water front, 
where, lying high and dry on the beach, as the tide was out, was the 
Almirante, the sixty-ton schooner that was to take us to our destina- 
tion. The crew of five negroes, headed by the mate, was slowly getting 
our outfit aboard, and at the same time chaffing the crews of nearby 
hog schooners that were unloading by pushing their squealing freight 
into the water to swim ashore as best it could. 
From here we went to Don Pablo’s offices to discuss food, medi- 
cines, hammocks, ammunition, clothing, etc., until it was time for noon 
breakfast and the regulation siesta. Just a word about Don Pablo. 
One of the wealthy and progressive merchants of the new republic, he 
not only treated us with every consideration, and purchased most of 
our supplies, but it was due to his alert helpfulness that we were not 
tied up in that torrid city for a week or more, instead of getting away 
in three days. But to return to our story. The breakfast was not a 
success from an epicurean standpoint, nor was the siesta , for it was 
too hot to sleep. So, assembling in the foyer, we watched the drowsy 
darkeys on the curbs opposite, and waited for the midday heat to pass. 
After a time I was courageous enough to look at the thermometer and 
it registered ninety-seven degrees Fahrenheit, the air fairly reeking with 
humidity. Along in the afternoon I wrote some letters, but could get 
no stamps, as the government had interdicted their sale at hotels, 
because the tourists had been in the habit of buying them for curios, 
instead of attaching them to letters as they should ; at least that is what 
the clerk said. 
Finally, on the afternoon of the third day in Panama, all was ready. 
The Almirante lay about a mile from shore. There is a twenty- foot 
tide, so it is said, and the row to the schooner gave us a view of many 
cattle and hog boats, and a good idea of the water front of the quaint 
citv that stands at the Pacific entrance of the canal. I have said that 
the crew consisted of five, but neglected to mention the crew’s cook, 
Jungo, and also our own, Raphael. I had also forgotten the dozen live 
