The Boy Travellers in South America. Thomas Wallace Knox
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THE BOY TRAVELLERS
IN
SOUTH AMERICA.
CHAPTER I.
FROM NEW YORK TO THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA.—INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE.—OLD TIMES AND THE PRESENT.—ASPINWALL.—A TROPICAL CITY.—THE TEREDO.—ENTRANCE OF THE PANAMA CANAL.
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes," was the reply. "The trunks are packed and strapped, and the carriage will be at the door at ten o'clock."
"That is quite early enough. The steamer leaves the dock at noon, and we can easily be settled on board by eleven o'clock."
"Quite easily," was the response. "And here comes Frank, who has been to see the porter about the heavy baggage."
"It's all arranged," said the latter; "the baggage-wagon will take our trunks, chairs, and other heavy things, and have them ready at the pier, so that we shall have only our satchels and rugs for the carriage."
"An excellent plan," was the reply; "and the next business before us is to go to breakfast."
The conversation recorded above took place not many months ago in the corridor of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, in New York. The parties to the dialogue were Dr. Bronson, his nephew, Fred Bronson, and Frank Bassett, a cousin of Fred. Some of our readers have met this trio of travellers, or, at all events, have read of their wanderings in Asia and Africa. When we last saw them they were on their homeward journey from Zanzibar, after making the ascent of the Nile, visiting the equatorial lakes of the Dark Continent, and reaching the Indian Ocean at Bagamoya. Those who have perused the narrative of the travels of Frank and Fred with the amiable doctor will need no further introduction.[1]
The Doctor and his young friends had planned a journey to South America, and at the time our present story begins they were just starting on their new adventure. With their experience in former travels they realized the wisdom of going to the steamer in ample season to take everything leisurely, and be comfortably settled before the hour of departure.
Promptly at the advertised time the steamer left the dock, followed by the cheers of the crowd that had come to witness her departure or say farewell to friends on board. As she moved slowly into the river there were dozens of handkerchiefs fluttering over her rail, and other dozens waving answer from the shore. Steadily the distance between ship and pier increased, and it soon became impossible to distinguish friends from one to the other, even with the aid of glasses. With her engines at half speed the great vessel moved majestically down the channel, passed the Narrows, and entered the lower bay. A fog blowing in from seaward compelled the pilot to order the anchor dropped, and the chain rattled through the hawse-hole with a vehemence that seemed to threaten the safety of the steamer's bows.
For two hours the fog continued; then it lifted, and the way to the ocean was revealed. Up came the anchor, round went the ponderous screw, the outer bar was passed, the pilot, his pocket filled with letters, the last messages to friends on shore, descended to his boat and was safely deposited on the light-ship at Sandy Hook, and then the steamer took her course for more southern waters.
The flag of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company fluttered at the main-truck, and it needed little observation to show that the craft on which our friends had embarked belonged to that famous