Read Ebook: The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal by Goldfrap John Henry

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Ebook has 256 lines and 17792 words, and 6 pages

erritt. "We look more like drowned rats than Scouts, in our present plight."

The boys set to work trying to remove the traces of the ducking that had been given them by the malignant Jared, who had undoubtedly recognized them. Had they known that he was actually on the lookout for them, they would have been much astonished. Yet such was the case, as will appear before long.

Luckily the mixture of cement that had been doused over them was a very watery one, the rinsings of a cement bucket, in fact, so that in a short time the hot sun had dried out most of the traces of their adventure.

But Mr. Mainwaring greeted them with exclamations of astonishment.

"What in the world have you lads been up to now," he exclaimed half laughingly as they rejoined him, "taking a swim with your uniforms on?"

"Well, we did have an involuntary bath," admitted Rob, and he went on to tell just what had happened.

"Jove!" exclaimed Mr. Mainwaring when he had finished, "this is getting interesting, and perhaps explains many annoying things that have been happening about here recently. Derrick booms have collapsed without apparent cause and an investigation has shown that acid has been poured on the supporting ropes by some malignantly disposed persons. Blasts have been set off prematurely, narrowly avoiding injury, and the work has been delayed by many such tricks. It wouldn't surprise me a bit if your friend Jared and the Latin Americans who are interested in delaying the canal construction are at the bottom of this. I'll dispatch men at once to get hold of this chap Jared and we'll make him confess all about it."

As he spoke there was a sudden crash behind him as a workman, who had been standing close to him and who must have overheard every word, dropped a heavy bucket. They all faced round and saw a man shuffling off rapidly. Something familiar about him struck Rob, but for the life of him he could not place the man. It was not until later that he recalled where they had seen him before. He was the man who had driven them to the ruins of old Panama on that memorable morning, and who must have heard some of their talk. But what was he doing on the canal work? Was he allied with the forces that were trying to defeat the completion of the canal? Had he told the plotters of what he had overheard and warned them that vigilant retribution was on their trail?

All these were questions that for the time had to wait. Rob decided not to say anything just then. After all he might have been mistaken. In the meantime the searchers sent out after Jared reported that they could not find him. Undoubtedly after venting his malice on the boys he had made off. Rob was not mistaken in his identification of the cabman. The fellow was allied with the plotters by close ties both of nationality and sentiment. He had been set to driving a hack in Panama so that he might carry on his spy work without being suspected. It was by chance that the boys had happened to take his cab. But what he had overheard that day had caused him to hasten to the dam and inform his confederates, who, as Rob had guessed, were constantly about there disguised as workmen.

In that vast enterprise, employing thousands of laborers, it was a simple enough matter for any able bodied men to obtain employment, and no questions were asked so long as the laborer proved able to earn his pay. At dinner time Mr. Mainwaring was unusually silent. There was no question in his mind now but that there were plotters mingled in among the workmen. That night orders for extra vigilance in patroling the dam were issued, and that night, also, Mr. Mainwaring announced that he intended to start the next day on his search for the troublesome tributary of the Chagres River which it was his intention to devise a means to control.

As may be imagined, this was great news to the boys, and they passed an all but sleepless night in their room in Mr. Mainwaring's bungalow, which stood in a row of "gold-men's" houses, among which it was the largest and best finished.

The boys' equipment had been brought up from Panama with them and was, as usual, all in readiness for instant transportation. These Boy Scouts lived up to their "Be Prepared" motto all the time, and to the finest detail. When their camping equipment had been packed up on the submarine island everything had been stowed away with military precision so that they knew, without going through a lot of troublesome overhauling, that everything, down to their small pocket water filters, was in its right place.

A wagon transported their goods and chattels to the landing place on the Chagres the next morning, right after an early breakfast. Mr. Raynor was to accompany his chief in the capacity of assistant, and the surveying instruments and other paraphernalia almost filled one of the odd native canoes they were to use. Another canoe held the camping outfits. But they were not to paddle their way laboriously up the swiftly flowing river.

Before they left, the chief of the Gatun Guards, as the police that watched the big dam were called, reported to Mr. Mainwaring that nothing suspicious had occurred during the night and also that no trace could be found of the men wanted. This was disappointing, but the boys were so keyed up with the expectation of the wonders that awaited them in the tropical forests through which the Chagres wound its way on its higher reaches, that they gave but scant thought to Jared and the plotters.

At last all was in readiness; Mr. Mainwaring, who had the steering wheel, gave the signal to start the engines.

Rob gave the big fly-wheel a twist against the compression, while Merritt turned on the gasolene and set the spark. The engine gave a chug and a snort and the big stern paddle wheel, which gave the boat such an odd look but was necessary for shoal water navigation, began to beat the water.

Thus started a trip that was to prove one of the most adventurous that lads ever embarked upon "by flood or field."

As they slowly ascended the sluggish, though powerful current of the muddy Chagres, Mr. Raynor told them something about the object of their expedition. In the foothills of the Cordillero de Bando, a sort of backbone of mountains extending throughout the length of the Isthmus, many small rivers rise, some of which feed the Chagres and contribute to its floods. The largest of these, a stream known as the Rio Chepalto, was, in the rainy season, quite a formidable torrent. Mr. Mainwaring's idea was to construct a dam or dig some sort of a connecting link which would divert the waters of the Chepalto in flood time into one of the small rivers that flowed seaward, thus further taming the Chagres.

The Gatun valley was soon left behind and the Chagres plunged into a steaming, luxuriant forest. Between banks overgrown in wild profusion with every sort of tropical growth, its chocolate colored current flowed silently along. In places, muddy bayous led off from the main stream and these, the boys were told, were the haunts of crocodiles and alligators.

Everywhere amidst the luxuriant tangle on the banks were vivid splashes of color, scarlet, yellow, and blue. These were the flowers of a score of varieties of tropic shrubs and flowering bushes. They filled the air with a rank, sweet smell that was almost overpowering. From the tangle, too, there shot up majestic trees, from whose branches drooped long lianas, or creepers, some of them thick as a man's thigh. Here was a clump of brilliantly green and feathery bamboo, there shot up a grove of coco-bola trees, while once in a while, but this rarely, there loomed in sight a group of the kings of the tropical forests--a majestic gathering of towering mahogany trees.

There were also clumps of banana plants growing to a height of fifteen or twenty feet, with immense broad leaves often six feet in length. Curiously enough, the banana bunches appeared to be hanging upside down. Beyond the fruit extended a stem like a snake, ending in a big blossom something like a red-brown water lily. There were occasional clumps of cocoanut trees, too, at which Tubby looked with a strange mixture of awe and longing.

Occasionally, through all this brilliant jungle gaily colored parrots or a flock of screaming macaws would fly, alarmed by the chugging of the launch. In some of the bayous, pelicans or big blue herons stood like sentinels on one leg, watching the progress of the invaders. But, beautiful as it all was, the boys missed the songs of the woodland birds in the north. Except for the shrieking of the parrots and macaws, or the occasional sullen splash of some unseen creature plunging into the river, the vast forests that reached for miles all about them were silent.

Suddenly the launch came to a stop with a soft bump. The boys looked rather alarmed. Had they collided with some huge creature that made its home in the tepid waters of the Chagres? They were soon relieved of any anxiety on that score.

"Well, we're aground at last," remarked Mr. Mainwaring in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You talk as if you had expected such a thing to happen," said Rob in some surprise.

"Yes indeed," rejoined the engineer, "in fact, I'm astonished that it didn't happen before. The river is full of sand banks, and sometimes it is impossible to see the channel. I see you've got the engine stopped already. You had better reverse now and we'll soon get off again."

"I should think that it would be quicker to go through the forests," remarked Rob, when without much trouble they "got going" again.

"It would be almost twice as quick, but nobody knows the paths but the Indians."

"Indians!" exclaimed Tubby. "Are there Indians here?"

He clutched his rifle with a determined look, for of course the boys had brought their weapons along.

"Yes indeed, plenty of them, but I guess we won't see any. They are the San Blas tribe and so small as to be almost pigmies."

"I know, I've seen pictures of them," cried Rob. "They look something like Japs only they've got big round heads and long, straight black hair."

"That's it," rejoined Mr. Mainwaring; "they're harmless enough unless their particular territory is invaded. No white man has ever penetrated far into their country and come back to tell the tale. But they say that back among the forests and mountains to which they alone know the way are deposits of emerald and gold of priceless value."

"I should think somebody would form an expedition and raid the place," said Tubby in a war-like manner.

"More easily said than done," Mr. Raynor struck in; "it's been tried, but fever and poisoned arrows wiped out all but a few poor, half-crazed wretches who struggled back to civilization more dead than alive."

"Do they ever come down to this part of the country?" asked Merritt.

"Only occasionally, when a hunting expedition has led them far afield," rejoined Mr. Mainwaring. "This Rio Chepalto that we are going to try to diverge runs back into their country; but where it joins the Chagres is not forbidden ground. Their territory begins higher up."

Suddenly there came another soft bump.

"Aground again!" cried Rob, stopping the engine. "Shall I reverse?"

"Yes; do so at once," was the order.

"You and Fred will have to go alone then," said Mr. Mainwaring, "and don't go far from the river. We'll recall you by three blasts on the whistle. Rob and Merritt will be needed to help us get untangled and to work the engine."

"Never mind, we'll bring back some game that will make their eyes bulge," declared Tubby valiantly. "Come on, Fred."

"Wait till I shove the landing plank ashore," said Fred, catching hold of a plank that was used for that purpose. The launch lay quite close to the shore and the plank, which was ten feet long, was of sufficient length to form a bridge.

"Look out, boy!" came a sharp cry from Mr. Raynor.

But it was too late. Tubby had already stepped over the side of the launch. As his foot touched the log a surprising thing happened. What had seemed a balk of old rotten timber gave a leap that threw Tubby into the water, and at the same instant a vast pair of jaws, armed with double rows of gleaming teeth, flashed wide open. The alligator--for that was what Tubby's "log" was--gave a menacing, hissing sound and a flourish of its formidable tail.

The next instant a rifle cracked sharply. The creature gave a roar as a bullet crashed down its open throat. Rob, seeing Tubby's peril, had snatched Fred's rifle from him and pumped a bullet into the monster reptile where it would do the most good. He pumped the repeating mechanism and two more bullets drove into the 'gator before it sank, crimsoning the muddy water. They saw no more of it and Mr. Mainwaring declared that Rob must have killed it.

Tubby, up to his waist in water, gasped as he beheld his narrow escape and Rob's prompt action.

"Gee whiz! This is a funny country," he mumbled, after he had been lectured for his carelessness. "Cocoanuts explode and old rotten logs turn into alligators."

On his promise to be careful and keep well within call, Tubby was allowed to go on shore with Fred and you may be sure he used the landing plank this time. The two boys struck off straight into the jungle and then kept a course that lay parallel to the river bank. All at once Tubby gave a violent exclamation and almost fell over backward. A lizard, but a lizard almost as big as himself, had run through the jungle right in front of him.

"A Panama water-lizard," declared Fred, who had put in more time studying the country from books than had Tubby. "It's harmless."

"It doesn't look so," was Tubby's comment.

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