“We may soon camp anywhere we like,” said Ned. “The Zone government understands that we are a lot of kids out after specimens.”
“Specimens of what?” asked Jimmie.
“Tall, slender men with black hair turning gray,” replied Frank.
“Quit your kiddin’,” grinned Jimmie.
The boys left the train at a modern depot, passed through the train-shed, crossed a level sward, and looked down into a mighty chasm.
“Great Scott!” cried Frank. “Is that the bottom of the world?”
He pointed below as he spoke.
“There seems to be a thin crust of rock between the bottom and the other side of the world,” laughed George. “See! There are tunnels and pits down there. The men are still digging. Look like ants, don’t they?”
It was a wonderful sight, and the Boy Scouts gazed long at the scene of activity before turning away toward the Gatun dam itself. This, Peter Fenton explained, was one of the big cuts of the canal, and ran from the marshy valley above down through the rocky ridge which held the rains in check and made a swamp of the upland.
Along the margins of the excavation ran shining steel rails upon which were mounted tapering structures of steel, from which cables crossed the gorge, carrying great buckets of concrete for the work below. Heavy walls were growing out of the depths.