IN PANAMA 
213 
SECOND LETTER. 
Camp Rio Negro — Roughing It — Story of a Bridge— Castilloa Groves — 
Birds, Animals and Reptiles — Cruz, the Hunter — Trips of Exploration — Chi- 
quitAj the Commodore, and Mula Grande — Coagulating Rubber With Amoi.e 
Juice — Native Rubber Manufacture— Llanos — Don Ramon and Donna Maria 
— A Treasure Hunt. 
O UR plan at first, on coming ashore on the Aznero Peninsula, had 
been to camp right where we landed, but the “heng-hengs” 
(rodadors) were so troublesome that another spot had been 
chosen, some eight miles inland, and having turned our belongings 
over to the mo 2 os, we started on the trail for camp Rio Negro. The 
Commodore led, because he had brought his shotgun and planned to 
shoot something for supper. He made a gallant figure, striding along 
the trail in rubber soled shoes, and had deer or turkey appeared, they 
certainly would have dropped. But the game was wary, and the only 
creature that dropped was the hunter himself, when he inadvertently 
trod on a slimy log and sat down in a pool of water. 
The trip took about three hours and led slightly uphill all of the 
way. The trail was fair, and ran through a sort of open forest, where 
there were many huge trees, but not much of the dense jungle that is 
so often to be found in the tropics. The soil was a gravelly loam, 
with a clay underlay, and seemed to be rich, while the beds of the 
brooks and creeks were of hard gravel and boulders. All along the 
trail were Castil/oas, sometimes singly, and often in clumps. None of 
them were over twelve inches in diameter, and most of them had been 
tapped. Now and then was one that had been felled a year or two 
before, and frequently we saw stumps of what must once have been 
fine, large rubber trees. 
Eight miles is a long distance in the tropics, and though lightly 
clad and walking slowly, we were soon very warm, and wet through 
with perspiration. The Pioneer ventured the prediction that this was 
the last long tramp upon which the Commodore would carry an eight- 
pound gun, and his prophecy came true. Even long journeys end, 
however, and after fording the Palo Seco, and a little later, the Negro 
River, we emerged into a fine grove of Castilloas , and fronting it, a palm 
thatched house that was to be our base of operations for many days. 
A11 hour later the mules arrived with the navy bags, and within fifteen 
