Chapter XXIV: We Leave Panama

Well, the story is told, as you may easily guess.

Uncle Naboth and I ran up to Colon, and not liking that city took a train across the isthmus to Panama, which we liked no better. The half-caste Spaniards and natives are a miserable lot, and do not compare either in intelligence or dignity with the isolated tribes of the San Blas. Some day, however, when the great canal is built, Americans will invade these parts in such numbers that the present population will disappear.

It is a mistake to think the climate of Panama unhealthful. On the uplands, both north and south of the depression where the canal zone is established, it is as healthful as any tropical country in the world. In the zone itself, which is ten miles wide, bad sanitation caused by the carelessness of the French workmen used constantly to breed fevers and disease. The Americans are now busily cleansing the Augean stables and good sanitary conditions are rapidly being established. But I will say this: that unless one has business in Panama he may readily discover a more desirable location for a residence.

We soon returned to the wreck, which we preferred to the towns of the isthmus, and there amused ourselves until the _Carmenia_ arrived at Colon. Then her captain, an active and energetic young man named Colton, took charge of the remains of the _Gladys H._ He had received orders to remove the cargo, strip the wreck of all valuables and then abandon her where she lay.

He brought his ship alongside with ease and as soon as he was in charge and had given me a receipt, our people removed their personal possessions and were rowed round to Colon, where a steamer was shortly due that would carry us to New Orleans.

I kept an eye upon the forest for Moit, thinking he might appear to bid us good-bye; but he did not. We warned Captain Colton not to land in the San Blas country, but did not confide to him any part of our recent remarkable experiences.

A few days later we caught the steamer and made a quick voyage across the gulf. We reached Chelsea on the twelfth day of February, and were warmly welcomed by my father, who reported the _Seagull_ nearing completion.

The diamonds were sold for a surprising amount of money, because the stones proved exceptionally large and perfect, and the proceeds were equally divided between Ned Britton, Uncle Naboth and myself. We had selected three good specimens of the “white pebbles” to sell for the benefit of our faithful seamen, and the amount of prize money they received from this source greatly delighted them. Nux and Bryonia would never accept anything in the way of money at all. They said that they belonged to Uncle Naboth and “Mars Sam,” and they knew very well that whatever we had they were welcome to.

Neither Mr. Harlan nor his company ever blamed me for the loss of the _Gladys H._ It was one of those fateful occurrences that mortal man is powerless to control.

I may add that “The Boy Fortune Hunters” are still fortune hunting. Perhaps you have read in “The Boy Fortune Hunters in Alaska” of our trip to the gold fields. Some of the adventures we have had in the trim and speedy _Seagull_, since our return from Panama, I have set forth in “The Boy Fortune Hunters in Egypt”, where we discovered buried treasure in the great desert, and in “The Boy Fortune Hunters in China”, where we penetrated to the dangerous interior and rifled the ancestral halls of a mighty Prince.

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Transcriber’s Notes

--Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public
domain in the country of publication.

--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and
dialect unchanged.

--In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the
HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)

End of Project Gutenberg's The Boy Fortune Hunters in Panama, by Floyd Akers