After awhile the boys came to Algarrobo River, which empties into the sea close beside the ruins. The stream was spanned by an old stone bridge, built over 350 years ago. Across this they made their way and came in sight of the old city—or what was visible in the bewildering mass of tropical vegetation.
They did not immediately go into its depths, however, but, led by Enrique, sought out the hut of Juan, who lived a hermit life on the border of this city, where years ago there had been a great tide of humanity, and where ambition, avarice, gaiety, luxury, once had full sway, but now was only a memory. Where once thousands of people had thronged, now the only living things were serpents, alligators, iguanas, pumas, and such.
The boys were fortunate in finding Juan at home, and as it was now well toward the middle of the day, they were glad to get into the shelter of his little thatch-roofed hut, and rest their weary limbs after the long walk.
CHAPTER IV.
STORY OF THE BUCCANEERS
Enrique's friend Juan was a fine specimen of the Panama Indian. He was straight, clean-limbed, big-boned, well-shaped. His long, coarse, straight black hair hung loosely upon his shoulders. He was not very tall, but out-door life had made him nimble and active and strong, and Harlan especially admired his athletic appearance.
Indians of unmixed blood are a rarity in Panama now, and Juan was exceedingly proud of the fact that no Spanish or negro blood flowed in his veins. This, too, probably accounted for his living alone. He was a member of the Tule or San Blas tribe of Indians, which not many years ago lived on the Atlantic coast of Panama, peaceably pursuing an honest, industrious life, occupied in fishing, hunting, farming, and sometimes trading.
Juan knew well what his ancestors had suffered from the Spaniards centuries ago, and how much it had cost to resist successfully their attacks. In consequence, he had no love for the white man. His hatred, however, did not include everybody, and he was on terms of close friendship with Enrique's father, who often marketed the fish Juan caught.
The Indian met Enrique and his companions with a smile, his even white teeth gleaming between his thin lips. He gave them a warm welcome, and invited them into the shelter of his hut, and the boys were very glad to accept his hearty hospitality.