THE ATLANTIC COAST ANI) ITS CONNECTIONS. 43 
fair day as we sailed up the Golfete. A short league 
brought us to a curious limestone rock on the northern 
shore, — a regular cube, rising from deep water, and 
capped with a pyramid of foliage. So unusual a forma¬ 
tion could hardly have failed to attract the aboriginal 
mind; and there may be on the summit some remains, — 
a sacrificial altar, or stele. We did not go near enough 
to see any way of access; but the branches seem to hang 
low enough on one side to promise an entrance to an 
active climber, and we determined to try it some other 
day when we had more time. 1 
If the entrance to the Rio Dulce was well concealed, 
that to the Rio Chocon was still harder to find; and but 
for the rock island, one might try several apparent open¬ 
ings in the hedge-like border of the stream before enter¬ 
ing the canal that sweeps in a semicircle into the actual 
river. Two alligators sat, like the porters at an Egyp¬ 
tian palace, opposite each other at the entrance, but 
dropped incontinently into the stream before our rifles 
were ready, — giving us an unpleasant reminder of what 
we might expect should we take a bath in the cool river. 
From animal to vegetable was but a glance; and the 
musky odor of the reptiles faded into the fragrance of 
a large purple passion-flower, which hung so low that 
we slipped into the cayuco, Frank and I, and paddled 
from bank to bank in the little mahogany dug-out, pull¬ 
ing down branches and vines, shaking out lizards and 
beetles, while humming-birds of almost every bright 
color, and butterflies of hues seldom seen in cooler cli¬ 
mates, would hardly leave the fragrant flowers we gath- 
1 Another year we climbed the rock and found several interesting plants, 
hut no human remains. 
