iDiles from Panamd, and the glare of a vertical sun on
the hot uneven stones of this pavement, as one
emerges from the more shaded interior, is painful.
Over this old Cruces road and down the river to the northern ocean, the wealth of the South Sea was conveyed for centuries ; and even to this day were to be seen gold trains and silver trains, with uncovered bars of glittering metal corded to the saddles of richly caparisoned mules with jingling bells, in charge of some pompous merchant's clerk, heavily armed, booted and spurred, and attended by a guard of half a dozen yellow musketeers. Thirty or forty mules, sacred to the conveyance of the steamer's gold and mails, crossed as a separate caravan, and often by a route of their own, and these should by no means render the slight- est assistance to any of the passengers, no matter how urgent might be their necessities ; for while the bodies of men and mules go and come, gold and its power remain eternal.
Down from the mountains and out of the tropical wilderness we approach the borders of the broad Pa- cific. From a series of plains dotted with patches of black thorn and cactus, and groves of citron, orange, and mango, we strike into the paved road, cross the old stone bridge, and are soon among the planta- tions and suburban residences of Panamd,. Goats and herds of cattle now mingle with bands of pack-mules, mounted stragglers, and pedestrians; water-carriers ply their trade with increased activity as the day draws to a close ; houses, two and three stories in height, of wood and adobe, supplant the remoter reed huts, and following^ the current of grold-seekers we leave behind the shops outside the walls, cross the moat, and pass- ing under the arched and towered gateway of Puerta de Tierra, with its old stone cross and bell, we enter Pa- namd.
Dating from the founding of its ancient site, some six miles distant on the beach, Panama is the
