had never seen. "It was pretty tolerable
cool," he told us, "in the march of the
American army through the 'tierra caliente'
in Mexico, when, leaving his banner floating
over the walls of Vera Cruz, he proudly
marched under General Twiggs: but nothing
there, could show a candle to this here river."
Twice this gentleman took out his revolver,
and threatened to shoot the boatmen: "There
are three of you, and I 've got a six-shooter—
if you don't move a long chalk faster I 'll fix
you." He had, in short, drunk a great deal too
much aguardiente, and previous to resigning
himself into the arms of Morpheus, he
informed us, that the proudest trophy hanging
in the capitol of Washington was taken by
him in the battle of Cerro Gordo. " I was
entrusted, sir," said he, "by Colonel Irvine,
of our U. S. army, with taking prisoner
Santa Anna—and, by the everlasten thunder,
if he hadn't been made of cast iron, and
worked by a high pressure en-gine, I would
have taken him! First of all, strarngers,
you oughter know that having five four-
pounder field pieces, and no carriages, I loaded
'em, and lashed 'ern on to five old mules. Then,
turning the tails of them five critters toe the
enemy, I fired at old Santa Anna's carriage,
and the re-coil sent the mules fourteen feet in
horizontal distance, and lodged 'em on their
heads. May I fall dead down, and never be
recuberated, if I lie! Then charging up the
hill, I walked into old Santa Anna's carriage,
just as he mounted a horse and escaped,
while I sat and had six shots at him, all of
which rebounded .off his back. ' Well,'
says the colonel, coming up, ' where's your
prisoner? ' Says I! 'he's more than mortal,
colonel, he's nowhere in partickler; but here
is a part of him,' says I—holding up his
wooden leg; and by the Tarnal, gentlemen,
that same leg of lumber hangs as a trophy
in the Capitol of Washington, and is over-
shadowed by that banner which waves on
every sea, and can whip the banded world in
arms." Our friend shortly afterwards fell
asleep; and after having stemmed the current
for six miles, we at length arrived at Gorgona,
a miserable village, where it is necessary to
pass the night, as it is dangerous to face the
rapids after dark.

In the dry season there is a road of twenty-
three miles from hence to Panama, but at
this time of year it is impassable, and we
were obliged to go eight miles further up to
Cruces, and from thence over the hills, a
distance of twenty-eight miles, to our destination.
Gorgona consists of a collection of
huts with high conical palm leaf roofs, on a
turn of the river; and boasts of two hotels,
the American and the St. Louis, where
travellers are supplied with brandy, pork, and
molasses, mosquitoes, and hammocks at
exorbitant prices.

The night passed off slowly and wearily—
the steerers and nearly all the boatmen got
drunk, the Californians curved and prowled
about the huts trying to pick quarrels, the
dogs yelled, the blacks fought each other
with long knives, and nobody slept. At
length the early dawn appeared, and with it
a dense, yellow, fever-looking mist arose from
the teeming forest. Again the seedy boatmen
handled their poles, and again we began to
move at snails' pace up the river, with the
current increasing in rapidity at every mile,
and the heavy dews falling around us, and
soaking us through and through. This was
a long eight miles; nearly all in the boat had
been carousing at Gorgona and felt heavy in
the morning; and it was with no inconsiderable
joy that we arrived at our destination in seven
hours after leaving Gorgona.

Cruces consists of about one hundred huts,
arranged along a dirty street, crowded with
mules, and steaming with liquid filth. Of
the hotels in this town, the best is the
American; but the best is bad indeed, being
merely a long hut, with a mud floor, and
narrow deal table. However, when for
twenty-hours, the wooden awning of a
wretched boat has been one's only protection
from the fierce noonday sun, and morning
and evening dews, in the tropics, such a
shelter appears a perfect haven of rest in
comparison.

Between Cruces and Panama, a distance of
twenty-eight miles, there are several
American transportation companies, who give the
traveller a receipt, and profess to carry his
luggage safely into the latter city. The road
is so unutterably bad, that it becomes quite
as much as any one can do to carry himself,
so that the luggage must necessarily be left to
the tender mercies of these sharks, who
frequently detain it a week on the road.
Tabor and Perkins, Hurtado y Hermanos,
Augustin Perez, Henriquez and Woolsey, and
Jose Secundo, are the most notorious, but
which to select among those for faithfulness
and honesty would surpass the keenest
penetration. The road, so called, from Cruces to
what is termed the half-way house, a distance
of fifteen miles, is perhaps the most execrable in
the world. Sometimes double distilled Sloughs
of Despond, composed of black mud five feet
deep; at others, great stones, eight inches
apart, sharpened, and stuck upon end, all over
the road; then long rows of wooden sleepers,
placed in every conceivable position, except
the right one; now the road would wind up
steep acclivities; then follow the bed of a
mountain torrent, about two feet broad, with
the rocks rising perpendicularly on either side;
and the whole passing through a matted and
impenetrable tropical forest.

After numberless disasters and difficulties
had been surmounted, our party at length
arrived at the sign of The Elephant, a long
hut situated on the edge of a mass of black
mud five feet and a half deep, still retaining
the name of a road, and surrounded by thickly
tangled forest. From hence, having been
charged two dollars for a cup of tea, we again