IN PANAMA 
205 
was that we began to speculate upon the number of days it would take 
to reach our destination, and to recall the fact that in these same waters 
Cortez once lay becalmed for seventy days, and at this season of the 
year, too. 
The next morning we were still in sight of Toboga, and spent much 
of the day in rifle and revolver practice, the gulls on bits of driftwood 
making excellent targets. There was also the chance to size up El 
Capitan , a nervous, wiry, native Panamanian, and to discover the very 
primitive ideas of cleanliness that our cook was possessed of. For 
example, his plan for cleansing the tin coffee cups was to pour one 
PART OF THE PANAMANIAN" ARMY. 
half full of water, rinse it around, pour the same water into another, 
and so on until all were thus washed. He also had a barrel of “biltong" 
or pickled beef for the crew, that was washed each day and hung on a 
line to dry. It certainly was strong meat, and the smell of it aft came 
near making us all vegetarians. Slowly the boat drew on, the passengers 
killing time as best they could, till finally Punta Malo came in sight. It 
was at this time that our first use for the medicine chest occurred. The 
Commodore rolled his sleeves high to the tropical sun, and in a few 
hours had a pair of the reddest, sorest arms that were ever seen. They 
