Vasco, Our Little Panama Cousin

by H. Lee M. Pike

Awe-inspiring as was the handiwork of nature spread before them, to these boys the great work which man was here undertaking seemed even more wonderful. The scores of steam-shovels in sight were scooping up tons upon tons of earth every hour. Vasco could hardly believe it when Harlan told him that it would take years to complete the work of cutting through the mountain. The great valleys in the locality would be entirely filled with the earth, and thousands of car-loads were to be hauled to Colon and dumped into the Atlantic.

Little did those early Spanish explorers and English buccaneers who travelled over this country imagine that great ships—many times larger than any they ever dreamed of—would be sailing through this mountain.

Vasco could hardly fancy such a thing now, but Harlan, with sublime confidence in American skill and force, had perfect faith in the early completion of the Panama canal. Certainly here before him was splendid evidence of American purpose.

When the boys had become thoroughly rested after their hard climb, and had concluded that there were no more worlds to conquer in this direction, they began to think of returning to the camp. The declining sun also reminded them that it was time to be on the move. Possibly, also, a vigorous appetite added to Vasco's zeal for the return journey. At any rate, he said to Harlan: "What do you say to a race to the railway station?"

This suggestion suited the American boy, and in a trice they were off,—running, jumping, sliding, tumbling, dodging, twisting, and turning in the race for the foot of the hill. There was just enough danger in it to add interest to the contest.

In the end Vasco won, though Harlan pressed him closely all the way. Several times, indeed, he seemed to gain the lead, his shrewdness and good judgment proving nearly a match for the sturdy limbs and deep breath of his opponent.

The race over, the boys wandered about watching the shifting gravel-trains, the giant steam-shovels in operation, the hundreds of men at work, and toward the close of the day returned to the car.

Here they found Mr. Andrews, and with him went to supper. At an early hour thereafter they turned into their bunks in the "sleeping-car," where, with nets protecting them from hungry mosquitos and other insects, they soundly slumbered through the night.

Early in the morning the three travellers were again on their way, for Mr. Andrews was anxious to get to Colon. They did not even go to the "hotel" for breakfast, but ate some canned food which had been brought along in the "sleeper." Taking his meals on a railway train was a novelty for Vasco,—more so than a dinner in the finest Pullman dining-car would have been to Harlan. None the less, Harlan enjoyed the novelty of the situation as much as his Panama friend.

Breakfast eaten, the boys devoted themselves to watching the scenery along the route. The forests through which they passed abounded in all sorts of bird and animal life.