to abandon the raft, notwithstanding the labor and time it had cost. Mr. Castilla, the principal New Granadian commissioner, however, still sat on the raft and refused to land, declaring that he was utterly unable to proceed on foot. Strain, knowing better, used every argument to persuade him to come ashore, promising, if necessary, to carry him, but all in vain. At length, becoming provoked at his obstinacy, he told him plainly that he would not, out of mere courtesy to him as a commissioner, sacrifice his own party, and would leave him where he was if he did not come on at once. Seeing that Strain was determined, he crawled ashore, and walked to the place where the main body was halted.
The following extract from the journal of one of the officers vividly portrays the condition of the party: "Proceeded down stream about a quarter of a mile, when finding a place to camp, built a fire and spread our blankets in the mild moonlight. We all feel downhearted to-night, being without any thing to eat, and not having eaten enough each man for the six or eight days to make one good meal; our clothes all in pieces, and nearly all almost shoeless and bootless. Have no idea where we are, nor, of course, when we shall reach the Pacific. The sick almost discouraged, and ready to be left in the woods to take their chances. I would freely give twenty dollars for a pound of meat, but money is of no use here." Thus they lay down, while countless sand-flies and mosquitoes, combined with the pangs of hunger and torture of undressed wounds, made the poor sufferers groan aloud. Their moans were answered only by the screams of the wild cat or cry of the tiger seeking their evening repast of blood. At last fatigue overcame their sufferings, and, save the night sentinel, all at length fell fast asleep. And over them the white moonlight lay, and past them, in quiet beauty, the unconscious river swept onward to the ocean.
Here, on the 7th, Strain again took off his boots, and finding one of his feet extremely lacerated, put on a moccasin in the place of the boot.
Early in the morning Mr. Castilla asked Strain's permission to return, with Mr. Polanco, his colleague, and one man, in order to attempt the reconstruction of the raft on a small scale, capable of carrying three persons, with which, as it would be more manageable, he expected to reach the Granadian settlements on the river below. This request was acceded to very unwillingly, and only with the condition that no one unless a volunteer should be sent. Finally, Benjamin Harrison, one of the best men, offered to go, and they departed, having first received from Strain good arms in the place of their own, which they had allowed to become unserviceable. The party, which numbered twenty-seven when it left Caledonia Bay, was now reduced to nineteen on the land, and with this number Strain continued to follow the river. The thickness of the undergrowth soon drove them inland, and they did not reach it again until evening, when it was time to encamp.
The next morning, February 8th, they were about to leave camp 19th, when a shot was heard near by, to which the party answered with a shout. Immediately after the two Granadians and Harrison emerged from the bushes. Their story was soon told: owing to the exertions of Harrison a small raft had been built, but was soon wrecked among the snags and rapids, and a musket, carbine, and hatchet lost. They all seemed delighted to rejoin the main body, especially Mr. Polanco, who threw his arms around Mr. Truxton and Strain, and declared he never would leave them again, saying to the latter as he embraced him, "I know you don't like me, but I like you, and will stay by you." He evidently had gone with Mr. Castilla against his own inclinations. Harrison was utterly worn out, and, moreover, somewhat feverish, but declaring he was able to proceed, the whole set out to follow the river. The Granadians caught this afternoon an iguana, and stealing off into the wood by themselves, built a fire and ate it. The men, who had hitherto generously divided their last morsel with them, on discovering this, became disgusted, and ever after secretly despised them.
During this day's march they found an article of food which afterward became common in the camp, and was called by Mr. Castilla the "monkey pepper pod." It resembled the cocoanut (in its exterior) after the husk has been removed. The interior bore some resemblance to the yellow water-melon, though the seeds were not so regularly disposed, nor in the same direction. It grew in clusters like the jackfruit, or cocoa of tropical climates, and on the most beautiful forest tree of the Isthmus, which sometimes towered to the height of two hundred feet, not a limb or knot breaking the smooth surface of the column-like trunk for a hundred and thirty feet; the fruit, when not quite ripe, as they at first found it, was hard and of a greenish tinge, becoming black by exposure. When ripe it was softer, and assumed a yellow color, yielding a most fragrant odor. In either state it had a pungent and peppery taste. In small quantities it was a very agreeable stimulant to them, who had so long been without condiments to their scanty food. They ate it raw, cooked it with soup, made soup of it, which proved very refreshing and stimulating when setting off "on the day's journey without any breakfast. For some time previous to using it they had met with it in the forest, but dared not eat it. At length, however, they found one partially devoured by some animal or bird, and concluding that what one stomach was able to digest another could, they used it without fear. This was the more acceptable, as Strain had stopped their allowance of gunpowder which had been used for pepper and salt in seasoning their miserable food; but the Pacific receding like the mirage of the desert, and the ammunition getting scarce, he feared they might
