CHAPTER III
After Bananas and Alligators
A Rough Ride—Wild Scenery along the Reefs—A Devoted Wife—A Recommendation for the Prevention of Divorces—A Guide with the Sleeping Sickness—An Exhilarating Ride on a Platform Car—The Big Banana Plantation—About Bananas and Plantains—Jamaica Negroes as Laborers—Beautiful Scenery—The Great Ambuscade of the Little Revolution—Loading at Night—On a Reef all Night—Danger, Modern and Ancient—Saved by Accident Insurance—Return to Almirante Bay—The Hunt Organized—An Excursion to the Chanquinola River through the Canal—A Twelve-mile Plantation—Tropical Birds—The Toucan, the Greatest of Degenerates—Scratching the Alligator’s Back—The Reason why I Am not an Alligator Hunter—How the Trip to the Tropics Was Saved from Being a Failure—Work in the North and Loafing in the Tropics—Canal Officials and Soldiers.
The S. S. Brighton had to go into the Chiriqui Lagoon to gather fruit from two large banana plantations, and then return to Bocas del Toro to complete its load, thus making an excursion which promised us not a little entertainment. As our ship was too large to pass through the small channels between the islands that separated Almirante Bay from the main lagoon, it would have to enter through Bocas del Tigre and thus be four hours on the way, three of them in the open sea.
We started a little before noon taking with us Doctors Swigart and Osterhout, who did not hesitate to go, although they knew that we were to return by night and that there were no vacant bunks in the ship. Mr. Reid, a civil engineer who had to make a business trip into the interior, and his wife, who had to see him off, were acquainted with one of the members of our party, and added to our entertainment by engaging passage in our boat. They had lived long in the land of the banana, and thus knew everything we wished to know. Doctor Osterhout took his telescope and delighted himself and us with excellent views of the islands and breakers which were never out of sight. Although he had lived in the neighborhood ten years, he seemed even more enthusiastic over the scenery than we were. At least he was enthusiastic until we got into the open sea, when he suddenly lost interest; he said that the sea air always made him sleepy, and forthwith rolled himself up in a blanket and lay on a bench with his back toward us, and stayed there until we had passed through the Tiger’s Mouths into the quiet waters of the lagoon.
It was a pretty sight to steam along in full view of the islands thickly covered with tropical trees and bordered by submerged reefs which converted the sea for half a mile out into curling and splashing foam. In places the waves struck the abrupt shores and leaped twenty or thirty feet into the air to descend in snowy showers. The telescope brought the shore quite near and enabled us to realize the intensity, activity and grandeur of the perpetual dashing, receding, returning and shattering of the waves on the shore, and the immensity of the fields of seething foam. This wild island scenery was entirely different from the peaceful color crowded views that we had enjoyed on our little excursion along the islands of Panama Bay to Toboga. One afforded a peaceful, sensuous sort of enjoyment; the other filled us with wonder and admiration.
After having been out in the open sea for a short time, the ladies became uncomfortably quiet, and likewise Doctor Frank, who could always be relied upon. The rest of us found it helpful from time to time to gaze steadfastly at the sky, like saints in Madonna pictures; or shut our eyes like opossums in trouble; or lean back and draw deep breaths, like prize fighters in distress; or talk ourselves into a state of tolerance to woe, like stoics in books, in order to pull through. But we managed, nevertheless, to derive some benefit from the fifteen miles of continuous animated panorama, and at last arrived at Bocas del Tigre. We entered the lagoon and, presto, wind and waves and woes were gone, and we were alive and well again, including Doctor Osterhout. Mrs. Reid had been, as was her custom, very sick, yet she had insisted upon accompanying her husband as far as the boat went. She had deliberately chosen, even against his wishes, to undergo several hours of sickness in order to spend them with him. Surely the mind of woman is inscrutable, and her ways are beyond the ways of men. Praised be her courage and devotion and cheerfulness. Woman was made to set man a good example, although man was not made to follow it. Men are apt to remember Eve as she was, and forget woman as she is. Possibly the comparative isolation of a life in a foreign country where there was neither social nor public entertainment, but an abundance of hardship and inconvenience, had drawn them closer together than the average husband and wife. In any case I would suggest a residence in some half-civilized foreign land by those who, after having been married a few years, imagine they deserve a divorce. If such a residence were made a legal qualification for a divorce, happy marriages might be more common and our courts less crowded.
Mr. Reid and Doctor Swigart spared no pains to entertain us; but after we had entered the lagoon Doctor Osterhout outdid them, and thus atoned for having gone to sleep in our forlorn company. He had found some one to entertain, and was not to be deprived of the opportunity. He was a type of our genial and hospitable Southerner, and gave us more interesting information about plantations, bananas, negroes and internecine wars than if he had been a guide paid to tell us all that there was and was not.
The little settlement at which we stopped presented much of the varied charm and beauty which had characterized all of the tropical seaport towns I had so far seen. The company had built a pier about one hundred yards long upon which the narrow-gauge platform cars were brought to be unloaded directly into the ship.
Doctor Swigart persuaded the company to put a platform car at our disposal for a ride over the eight miles of railroad that traversed the plantation of 800 acres. Chairs were placed upon the car, an engine attached behind, and away we sped at the rate of twenty miles an hour through a sort of artificial lane that had been cut through the forest jungle, and which, by the encroachment of the foliage, had become so narrow that the branches projecting from the sides often touched us. We went around curves at such a speed that each one had to hold on to the chair of his neighbor in order that those sitting at the sides might not be tipped off. Occasionally we would pass an opening and get a better view of the high forest trees, among which were rubber trees, cedar trees, trumpet trees and other magnificent-looking trees and plants that were beyond even Doctor Osterhout’s elastic nomenclature. At one large meadowlike opening we saw a herd of sturdy-looking cattle grazing peacefully in a meadow upon which a picturesque little slaughter-house had been built for their convenience. The company did its own slaughtering and thus provided their employees with good fresh meat. After riding for a couple of miles we came to the banana trees, which also grew close up to the rails. Every few hundred yards side-tracks ran out at either side enabling the laborers to load directly on the cars and sent the fruit out on the piers to the steamships.
A BUNCH OF BANANAS
As the temperature is practically the same all the year around, banana trees are planted at any and all seasons and each tree bears twice a year. They do not, however, bear according to the season of the year, but according to their individual maturity. Slips are planted at any time, and begin to bear in a year, and thus bananas are maturing and being gathered at all seasons. When a stock is cut off a new one grows out in its place. The ripe bunches grow wrong side up, for when they become heavy the stem bends until at last the end points downward and the individual bananas upward. They are gathered before they are fully grown, otherwise they burst upon ripening and spoil quickly. The yellow ones are cultivated almost to the exclusion of the red ones, which have less flavor (although perhaps a more delicate one) and have, I believe, poorer keeping qualities.
Doctor Osterhout bribed a negro to find a couple of bunches of plantains to be cooked for us on the ship. The plantain resembles the yellow banana but is nearly twice as long and is not palatable until cooked. When ripe it may either be roasted in the rind or be cut in slices and fried. It has not such a rich fruity flavor as the banana, but is very nourishing and makes a better dish for the table. Those served on the boat were fried and had a slightly tart taste, and were very acceptable as a substitute for fresh vegetables.
The plantations are worked by Jamaica negroes, who are hardier and better laborers than the natives and are said to be good-natured, docile and content. They gathered in crowds to see us pass, for some one had told them that the governor of Jamaica was one of our party, and Doctor Senn was designated as the man. The doctor bore the honor with becoming dignity and left them with the impression that he was genuine. They showed great respect toward him and were evidently loyal British subjects.
We soon rode into a wide valley along which the plantation extended for miles. A lively river ran through it and steep hills arose on either side becoming progressively higher and more rugged. A succession of beautiful and varying views of mountain, forest and river scenery was thus presented to us as we rushed around the curves in an almost constant state of exhilaration for fear of being swung off into the bushes and having our faces scratched.
We stopped at the spot where, during the recent revolution, the insurgents had ambushed the government troops. The insurgents, 1,000 in number, stood on the steep side of a round hill near the railroad track where the train bearing the regulars had to pass. But the foliage on the hill was so dense that not an insurgent or field-piece could be seen from the cars, nor did it look as if there was room for field-pieces between the trees. When, however, the train arrived nearly opposite the rebels, they opened fire with gun and cannon, killing the helpless troops in great numbers. The vivid conception of this horrible tragedy, occurring so recently on the very spot we halted that I looked about me for blood stains, interfered somewhat with the full enjoyment of the scenery.
When we returned, the ship proceeded to the other landing not far away to take on bananas in the dark and start back for Bocas del Toro in time to be there at daybreak. The success of this plan would have saved us three hours of distress, for we would have been asleep during the passage through the choppy sea outside of the reefs. But neither sleep nor a night ride was granted us by destiny.
As it was raining, I retired early and fell asleep about the time the loading in the lagoon was finished, expecting to awake at Bocas del Toro in Almirante Bay. About midnight, however, I was awakened by the noise of the machinery. The screw would start up with a terrific noise, then stop for a few moments and begin again. I soon became aware of the fact that the ship was not moving forward, but only shaking itself like a dog emerging from the water. But why it should want to stay there and shake itself all night and churn us up in its vitals, I could not divine, and lay hoping that it would quiet down or go ahead before bursting something.
At seven o’clock we began to move at last, and I went on deck and learned the truth, viz., that the negro pilot had attempted to find his way out through the channel and, as the night was dark and rainy, had run the boat on a reef. There was no lighthouse to mark the channel, but he, like Admiral Rozhestzensky, had his orders to go and come, and like Rozh—nsky, he had to try his luck. If the reef had not been planed off by Providence and sunk just to the right depth to let us get on and off easily, and had not the wind and waves been kept down, the second-hand ship would have been wrecked and our steamer trunks lost. But the above-mentioned combination of circumstances had conspired in our favor, a combination, take it all in all, the like of which we shall never see again. As it was, the boat must have suffered considerable damage and might not have been able to live in the West Indian storm that was waiting for it—and us.
However, I took the matter coolly during the time of danger, and also afterward when I learned that there had been danger, for I was a student of statistics and knew that men are ten times as safe on a ship as on land and that more accidents occur to people in their homes than while riding on the cars. Bankers suffer twice as many accidents as policemen, and carpenters nine times as many. Railroad conductors are considered good risks by the accident insurance companies, and commercial travelers the very best. In fact, statistics prove that there is danger everywhere. There is danger in crossing a street, danger in opening a window and in shutting a door, danger in bathing and danger in taking off a coat. There is even danger in sleeping, for many accidents take place during sleep, and most people die in bed.
I felt thankful that we were not living in the times of ancient Rome where danger and death were the rule, and survival was accidental, if we may credit an account of the conditions once prevalent there given by one evidently who knew what he was writing about.
“Owing to the great noise in the streets, none but the rich could sleep, while most invalids died from want of rest and well people from suicide or accidents. A stream of carriages was continually passing in the narrow and crooked thoroughfares, and the drivers were perpetually engaged in noisy disputes and foul abuse of one another. If you were in haste, your passage was obstructed by the crowd. If you loitered, a rich man’s litter, borne aloft on stout shoulders, jostled you aside; those behind pressed upon your back; one man would dig into you with his elbow; another with a sharp pole; your shoulder would be struck by a joist, your head by a beam, and a cask would bark your shins. Your legs were bespattered with mud, on all sides you were trodden on, and the nail of a soldier’s boot would stick in your toe. The cooks scattered the burning coals as they hurried by with their patrons’ meals, and your clothing was torn into shreds. One wagon loaded with a fir tree, another with a huge pine, shook the streets as they advanced, the rear ends waving to and fro, felling the people right and left. Another wagon was loaded with stones from the quarries of the Apenines, and when the axle broke the mass was precipitated on the people. Who could find his scattered limbs or gather up his carcass thus ground to powder? Then there were the dangers of the night when broken crockery, thrown out of lofty windows, made dents in pavements and skulls. Indeed, there were as many fates awaiting you as windows where you passed. You might thank your lucky stars when they threw only the contents of the basins and pots upon you. Rash was he who went to supper without first making out his will. Or your life was put in jeopardy by some drunken and ill-tempered fellow who picked a quarrel with every first person he met. He took care to avoid the scarlet cloak and the long train of attendants, the many lights and the brazen lamp, but you whom the moon alone attended he assassinated. Or you met a worse fate if you fell into the hands of the soldiers, driven by a mob and legging it about the streets, and who would crack your head as if they were cracking a joke, and thus revenge themselves on the pursuing mob.”
Thus in ancient Rome they needed insurance and only had assurance, while nowadays we have insurance but only need assurance. In modern life danger is minimized and insurance magnified. I was quite heavily insured against accident, and my observation and experience had been that the heavier the insurance the slighter the danger, and the slighter the danger, the heavier the insurance. This is the policy of the companies. The only difficulty about insurance is to get enough to entirely avert danger. It is a subject for statistics. Statistics never lie to insurance companies, for they have policy holders to make good and an advertisement system to make policy holders.
Those who did not carry much insurance were considerably frightened, particularly after the danger was over and they learned of it, and even to this day they talk with bulging eyes of the might-have-been disaster. Accident insurance, therefore, should be carried for the comfort it affords both before and after the dangers are past, as a remedy for nervousness. You go into danger with a prospect of making your family the present of a snug little sum of money, and are thus braver and more cheerful; that is, if you are a married man. A bachelor may be brave, but death for him has no cheerful side. He has to depend upon life.
Mrs. Reid, in trying to spend more time with her husband, was fortunate enough to be left behind. She thus would have two or three more happy days with him before the next ship would come for bananas, and she would then return at night according to the regular custom. She would, of course, have to take her chances with the reefs if the night should happen to be dark; but who would hesitate to choose between a slight death risk at night and certain deathly sickness by day? I think it quite likely that her husband did not allow her to risk the passage of the Tiger’s Mouths in such a night.
We bore up pretty well during the trying three hours at sea, all but Doctor Frank and the ladies. Doctor Osterhout was again taken with one of his drowsy, unsociable spells soon after we got out in the open sea; he lay down on the bench and covered his head, as usual, and was not heard from again until we entered the tranquil waters of Almirante Bay just in time for the eleven o’clock breakfast. He seemed to have the faculty of awakening whenever he wanted to eat or talk.
Doctor Senn had been hinting enthusiastically about an alligator hunt, so the local doctors organized an excursion up the Chanquinola River, which ran through the company’s plantation. The plantation, according to Doctor Osterhout’s information, contained 1,000 acres of land and was twelve miles long; but he did not say how wide that would make it. The reader can easily figure out the width for himself, or if he can not, let him get one of his boys or girls who is going to school do it for him—they are fresh in mathematics. The river is about 1,200 feet wide and quite deep, but as its mouth is completely closed to navigation by reefs, the company had dug a channel about twenty feet wide and eight miles long connecting it with Almirante Bay.
A steam launch having been placed at our disposal, we steamed across the bay to the mainland, which was several miles from Bocas del Toro, entered the connecting channel, and were soon gliding through the jungle. On our left the forest came to the water’s edge; on the right a narrow pathway had been cleared for pedestrians. Without this cleared way pedestrians would not have been able to reach the different stations along the canal. A fine rain was falling a large part of the time, but Doctor Senn and Doctor Osterhout sat upon the awning with their legs dangling down over the edge, shooting birds and looking for alligators. The rest of us sat or stood comfortably under the awning and, thus protected, enjoyed the novel scenery. The most interesting part was watching the tropical birds of many sizes, shapes and colors that flew incessantly from one part of the impenetrable wilderness across our path to settle down in another, some remaining on the trees where we could get a better view of them as we passed, others disappearing in the jungle as suddenly as they had appeared. We saw cockatoos, parrots, toucans and a great variety of small birds, which, taken together, might be said to be almost as numerous as sparrows about our Northern houses and gardens. Although Doctor Senn killed a large number of them as they flew by, we could seldom get one because they fell into the tangle of the dense underbrush.
TOUCAN, OR PREACHER BIRD
The most common of the larger birds was the toucan, the most extraordinary degenerate in the whole animal kingdom, not even excepting man. It has a nose as long as its body. Pluck out its feathers and you can not tell which is the degenerate part, the enormously developed, six-inch bill or the comparatively puny, six-inch body. The bill is certainly the best developed of the two and capable of giving the body the best possible chance of gathering food and surviving where other species might die out. Perhaps this adaptability for feeding itself accounted for the great number we saw in comparison with the smaller number of others of any one kind. But how the bird manages to escape indigestion is certainly a mystery. One mouthful ought to replete it beyond recovery. The color of the bill is a softly blended mixture of red, yellow, blue and green, and the body a gaudy combination of the same. The bird is called by the natives the “preacher bird” because it owes its reputation to the development of its mouth; and one variety has a black body like a preacher. But I myself would have called it the “fashion bird” because it resembles a woman of fashion; for it attracts attention from a distance by the enormity of its headgear, and when the body arrives you are confronted with a bunch of beautiful frills and feathers, a “thing of beauty and a joy forever.”
But Doctor Senn was out for alligators, for something that could not fly away and get lost in the jungle after it was killed, and he would have sat on the sharp edge of the awning with his feet in midair for a week rather than miss the big game. He did thus sit for four hours, and was finally rewarded. After traversing eight miles of wilderness, we came to the river and steamed upstream a few miles, enjoying extended views of hill and valley; and on our way back spied the alligator. He was lying on his stomach basking in the sun, which had come out after the rain and which was drying off his back and Doctor Senn’s legs. He looked immense, sprawled out at the water’s edge in an attitude of the greatest reptilian comfort and content, as if seeming to say, “You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.” Doctor Senn took in the situation and scratched his back.
As we were several hundred feet away, it was impossible to say just where the bullet struck. The alligator knew, however, and was satisfied with one scratch, for he flopped into the water and disappeared as if he had been shot and we left him for dead. It occurred to me that there were three things an alligator hunter has to contend with, viz., first, to find his game; next, to kill it, and, last, to get it. But for these difficulties I might enjoy alligator hunting myself.
As we glided back late in the afternoon through the still waters of the artificial forest channel, closely hemmed in on either side by the mysterious solitude of omnipotent Nature, and which was now silent and strewn with the dead reminders of Doctor Senn’s fell ambition, it seemed to me that these two excursions to the banana plantations would have saved my trip to the tropics from failure even if the congress had not served as the fulfillment of a joyous scientific duty. Nothing else had come up to my expectations, except bad weather, seasickness and the $25,000 barrel. Now I had had my reward and felt that traveling in the tropics surpassed all other travel in the world—sometimes for good and sometimes for bad. Staying at home is the only thing that beats it in either respect. Any fool can travel in the tropics but it takes a wise man, or a poor man, to stay at home. Blessed are the wise, and the poor.
However, there have been wise men who went to Panama; but they came back again. Work was made for the white man in the North and probably for the negro in the temperate South, but no work was intended to be done by any one in tropical regions, unless he goes up on a high mountain to do it. The Northerner, by centuries of practice, has acquired immunity from the bad effects of work in temperate climates, but this immunity soon wears out when he goes to the tropics, just as the immunity from the bad effects of loafing wears off when the native of the tropics comes North. The bad effects of work are endemic in the tropics and are only kept from becoming epidemic by the small amount of work done. I hope that the new canal officials and engineers will be soldiers and will, like our army officers already stationed at Panama, prove an exception to human nature and will become immune to the laws of human nature and do some work on the ground, and that they will live long enough.[4]
[4] The above was written before the president undertook to construct the canal through the agency of army officers and thus removes all doubt about the wisdom of his course. The work is now being done for the benefit of the United States instead of for the benefit of engineers and contractors. The adoption of this course was a happy thought of a great administration.