THE ATLANTIC COAST AND ITS CONNECTIONS. 41 
to the rule. Our captain had provided a Jamaica negro 
for cook, Santiago, a half-breed, for montero , or guide in 
the forest, and our crew consisted of Guillermo, an attrac¬ 
tive looking but bad boy, who was always singing about 
his corazon (heart), Francisco, and two other men, whose 
exact ethnological classification was a puzzle. Our cook, 
his oil-stove and canned provisions filled the little cabin; 
but the cock-pit was large, and Frank shared with me 
one side, while the captain occupied the other, and at 
night we had a canvas awning over the whole. Folding¬ 
chairs served for beds as well, and our traps were put into 
the capital water-proof baskets called petacas . 
Entrance to the Rio Dulce. 
Later than usual the breeze freshened, and we were 
sailing apparently for the spur of San Gil, which stretches 
northward right across the river. As we advanced, the 
walls opened, and we entered a gorge far finer than that 
