“Now what do you think of that!” exclaimed Mr. Dalken, after reading the
message he had received from the stranded aviators who had landed beyond
the last lock of the Canal Zone.
Mrs. Courtney took the message and read it to herself, then murmured:
“This is disappointing: I did so want to have the girls on board when we
went through the locks.”
“Well,” sighed Mr. Dalken, “we may as well give orders to the Captain to
start early in the morning and meet the runaways at Panama—as Polly says
in her telegram.”
“If only she had told us where they would stop overnight, we could wire
there and tell them to get back here immediately. They should be able to
use the railroad, as long as they have been able to get to a telegraph
station,” said Mrs. Courtney, a trifle annoyed at such inconsideration
on the girls’ part.
“I think we will give them their way this time, and have them miss the
gorgeous trip through the Canal. It will serve them good and right!”
declared Mr. Dalken, also impatient at such doings.
But the “girls”—meaning Polly and Eleanor—had no cause for
disappointment or impatience. In the first place they did not see how
they were to be held accountable for the aeroplane’s engine failing to
work just about the time they reached the vast park which borders both
sides of Miraflores Lock. In fact, they considered it an act on the part
of Providence that the ’plane had such a wonderful stretch of lawn upon
which to descend, instead of falling down in Gatun Lake, or upon the
rocky hills to be seen everywhere around.
Because of an easy conscience, therefore, the two girls enjoyed an
unusual dinner at an interesting old Spanish restaurant in Panama; and
then accompanied the young aviator,—who had successfully brought his
disabled ’plane to the nearby park before mentioned,—to the Tivoli
Hotel, where a professional chaperone agreed to look after them in order
to satisfy Mrs. Courtney’s concession to social requirements.
“I think I shall have to be running along, ladies, if I am to have that
’plane ready for work in the morning,” declared Bill, as they reached
the hotel verandah.
“And you really think it will take the yacht from five to seven hours to
make the trip through?” asked Polly, anxiously.
“Oh, yes! Even if everything runs smoothly, which it seldom does, you
know, where we have to depend upon native labor to drive the mules and
tow the boats. Better allow seven hours, at least, I think.”
“And you hope to be here for us at ten?” added Eleanor.
“At ten, unless the engine goes on strike again,” laughed Bill.
“Well, then, you hurry along and forbid a strike, while we go to bed.
I’m tired with all the day’s excitement,” said Polly, trying to stifle a
yawn.
Thus unceremoniously sent about his business, Bill laughed and lifted
his cap. In another minute he was out of sight down the old cobbled
street.
Polly and Eleanor found it quite unnecessary to be rocked to sleep that
night; and it seemed but a few moments after they fell asleep before a
knock on the door of their suite roused them to action. It proved to be
a message from Bill, left at the hotel in his passing by to have
breakfast. The message told the girls the ’plane was in fine condition
for their return trip that morning.
The girls dressed hurriedly and then hastened to the diningroom to
breakfast. By nine-thirty they were awaiting their escort who called for
them shortly after they came out upon the wide piazza.
As they passed through the ancient old city of Panama they were
interested in various sights which Bill pointed out and about which he
told the prevalent legends.
After they reached the aeroplane, now waiting upon a stretch of sandy
field near the Canal Park, Bill assisted the girls to their places and
advised them to adjust their veils as he proposed making a speedy flight
in order to meet the yacht before it had gone very far on its trip
through the locks.
Soon, thereafter, the girls were looking down upon a bird’s-eye view of
the old Spanish town they had just left. The ’plane followed the course
of the canal, while the aviator pointed out Gatun Lock and the big dam,
with the concrete work built on a tremendous scale. The white walls
contrasted beautifully with the sweeps of smooth, green, velvety turf
which stretched from the canal on both sides to the low foot hills of
the dark, blue mountains beyond. There were six locks in all, with the
canal between looking like an ordinary stream to the girls in the
aeroplane. And the negroes, with their mules working at the locks,
appeared like busy, black ants on the earth far below.
The crew on the White Crest caught sight of the aeroplane before Polly
and Eleanor saw the yacht; the captain saluted the fliers with a shrill
blast of the siren and attracted Bill’s attention. After that the ’plane
hovered near the vessel as it made its way through the locks and finally
came out into the Bay of Panama.
Bill landed his passengers safely, and conducted them to the pier where
the White Crest was anchored.
Of course, the girls were scolded well by Mr. Dalken, who said he had
aged twenty years because of them and their escapades, but the laugh
which greeted this statement was not very sympathetic.
Finally Bill reluctantly bid the yachting party goodbye and returned to
his ’plane in order to reach the Atlantic side and the government
offices as soon as possible.
The heat during the early part of the afternoon was overpowering, hence
one and all agreed to remain on the yacht until the air became cooler.
But instead of riding at anchor the yacht circled the Bay in order to
find a breeze.
“Bill told us that whales in the Gulf of Panama were quite a common
sight, but I forgot about it until just now,” remarked Polly.
“We’ll watch for one to-morrow when we sail away,” said Ruth, eagerly.
The sunset that evening was superb but it was difficult to say that, in
the South during that trip, there were any clear evenings without its
beautiful sunset.
Twilight swept a soft gray mantle up from the sea and covered the
shoreline from view before the party went indoors to the saloon; then
Mr. Dalken called for the attention of his friends.
“I have been studying this map carefully,” began he, waving a memorandum
which he held in his hand; “and I find that there are very few decent
ports for us to make between here and Quito. Even Quito must be reached
by landing first at Guayaquil and then taking the railroad inland and
climb to the City of the Equator.”
“Is there any special reason for visiting Quito?” asked Jack.
“Why, of course! Don’t we all want to visit the city so famous for its
age and antiquities? Remember, Jack, you are a mere outsider on this
trip, and not one of the seekers after wisdom and adventure. Your day
for dancing and playing the gallant to the young ladies ended when we
bade goodbye to Palm Beach. Down in the towns of Colombia, Ecuador, Peru
and Chile, it will be my turn to lead in the Grand March,” declared Mr.
Dalken.
“Don’t pay any attention to him, Dalky,” advised Polly, sending Jack a
contemptuous glance for his interruption. “He wants to be heard from in
planning this campaign, but he really does not know a thing about South
America that he hasn’t heard from us!”
At this remark from Polly, Jack folded his arms as if to signify he was
through forever with girls, and sat tilted back in his deck chair, but
paying no attention to anything said or done. His associates laughed
goodnaturedly at his expression, then turned their attention to Mr.
Dalken once more.
“As I was saying a long time back, we will have to travel to Quito by
means of a shaky little airline of a railroad—I call it airline because
it evidently runs on the rim of the clouds, from all I can gather of its
construction. But it will prove to be a novel experience for us all,
especially so to me, as I prefer to keep on solid earth where railroads
are concerned.”
“As your investments prove!” retorted Jack. “I’ve never known you to
take a flier, nor heard of you traveling in the clouds when speculating
in transportation stocks.”
The laugh was now at Mr. Dalken’s expense, as his friends well knew what
large railroad interests he held in North America, but no one was aware
of the fact that one of his secret reasons for coming to South America
was to examine the safety of certain railroad interests offered him
through a broker who acted for the Valparaiso and North Coast Company—a
new enterprise about to be started without delay, in order to link the
various shipping ports along the shore to the city where the
trans-Andean railroad had its terminus.
“If Jack would only subside for a short time we might be able to hear
the rest of that itinerary,” sighed Mr. Fabian. “Thus far I have only a
faint idea of the outline of the first leg of the voyage.”
“Are there two legs?” exclaimed Jack, instantly. “Oh! where are they? I
have never seen such a leg, and it will add to my fund of education.”
Polly and Eleanor laughed at the play of words, but Nancy felt too
mature to laugh at such a childish joke. She said rather jeeringly:
“Poor Jack! ‘A fool always laughs at his own wit.’ Are you not aware
that ‘leg’ is a nautical term?”
Jack’s chair-legs came down hard upon the floor, and he sat bolt upright
as he showed a livelier interest in this sparring match. “Hoh! I may not
be versed in nautical names, but at least I am not guilty of having read
the type from every one of Dalky’s tomes on South America. I know of
certain young ladies who pride themselves on their geography, especially
when touring South of the Equator, who lugged those same tomes from the
shelves in Dalky’s library and now shamelessly preen their feathers of
knowledge.”
“Children, if you can’t keep quiet and let Mr. Dalken tell us of the
proposed trip, you’ll have to go to bed!” declared Mrs. Courtney,
frowning at Jack and the girls.
“Or we can take our plans and go out on deck where we need not be
annoyed by infants’ prattle,” added Mr. Fabian.
“No, NO! Please don’t do that,” cried Polly, anxiously. “We’ll make Jack
keep quiet, if we have to gag him!”
“Now see that you keep your word, Poll,” advised Mrs. Courtney, shaking
a finger at the irrepressible Jack.
“Then I’ll continue,” added Mr. Dalken. “The first port of any size
shown on my map is Buenventura, in Colombia. Since stopping at Colon,
I’ve heard so much about Colombia and its mediaeval customs and peoples
of the interior, that I half wish we had arranged to land at
Barranquilla, which is on the coast of the Caribbean Sea; thence we
could have taken passage on one of the wood-burning river boats that
poke along the length of the Magdalena River as far as Bogota. From that
place we would have crossed the Andes _via_ mule-train and arrived at
Buenventura to take the yacht from there on down the coast. However, we
may be able to come back by that route—that is, providing the females
and Jack are sufficiently hardened to mountain-life by the time we have
finished the Amazon River.”
Everyone laughed at Jack’s disgusted expression at being classed with
the “females” of the party, and Mr. Dalken hastily continued his
harangue lest his ward begin to interrupt again.
“I have been advised to keep away from hotels in the different small
towns at which we might stop to see the sights. They are miserable and
charge exorbitant rates to tourists. Also, those ports near the Equator
are insufferably hot and with no modern accommodation, such as electric
fans, fly-screens, or other conveniences. Luckily we have our hotel with
us, and we can always secure rooms on board the yacht, no matter what
undesirable conditions there may be for others not so fortunate.
“In order to have a glimpse of life in the small towns of Colombia, I
thought we might stop at Buenventura, and after doing the place, we can
continue on to Guayaquil. That is the town where we have to take the
sky-line up to Quito, commonly known as the City of the Equator. From
Guayaquil, after we return there, we will cruise on to Paita——”
“Oh, Dalky!” interrupted Polly at this moment. “Aren’t we going to stop
at any other quaint towns along the coast? The lady-chaperone at the
Tivoli said that half the pleasure in touring down the west coast was to
be found in seeing the unusual ports which are seldom visited by the
fast steamers. With a yacht, she said, we were free to stop as we
pleased, hence she told us to be sure and do so.”
“Yes,” added Eleanor. “And she told us that many of the finest ruins of
the Incas, as well as ancient Spanish churches, were to be seen on the
mountains back of tiny towns on the coast that escape the attention of
the ordinary tourist.”
“Well, she may be right, but as South America is very large, and we had
expected to visit as many of its states as possible in the time limited,
it would not be advisable to do as every stranger suggests. That is
exactly why I planned this route which would give us ample scope to turn
aside in case of our finding any place or thing we wished to visit. Of
course, the main idea in coming to South America, instead of taking that
South Sea Island cruise as Mrs. Courtney proposed, was to give the
interior decorators the privilege of visiting the Exposition at Rio de
Janeiro. Otherwise——”
“Oh, all right!” interrupted Mr. Fabian. “We know all about it, Dalky!
Don’t lose time going over the same field again.”
“Oh, I’m not at all keen about taking you over the field at all,”
retorted Mr. Dalken, quickly. “In fact, I believe I’ll let each one of
you follow your own route and see where it lands you. As for me, I shall
use my private itinerary and sail away to seas unknown—and uncharted,
too, if I see a chance of finding any reward for such a voyage.”
“I really do believe Dalky is peeved!” exclaimed Polly, causing every
one to laugh heartily at such an absurd idea.
“No, that is not the reason for his thrusting the paper away in his
pocket,” explained Mr. Ashby, teasingly. “But the truth of the matter
is: Dalky came to that part of the itinerary where all those twisted
vowels and consonants occur in the names of the towns in Ecuador, Peru,
and Chile, and he dared not risk our jeering.”
“For the first time in history, you are correct, my wise mind-reader!”
retorted Mr. Dalken, midst the shouts of laughter from all sides.
“I don’t suppose any one present would dare wager with me, as betting is
against the law at home. But we are in South America and every one here
wagers money on horses, lotteries, and on every possible excuse to
gamble; therefore, I would like to wager that Dalky fails to follow more
than a third of that itinerary of his.”
“No one would take you up on that bet, Fabian, because it is a sure
thing!” exclaimed Mr. Ashby.
Mr. Dalken got up from his chair and stood gazing at his two old friends
as he said: “I never dreamed that you both would take sides against me!
But of such ungrateful stuff is the human heart!” Heaving a dreadful
sigh he turned away and walked over to the window of the saloon which
gave him a view of the Harbor, “Hoh!” called he, invitingly. “See whom
we have out there with us!”
Instantly every one sprang up and hurried to the windows. Through the
darkness of the fast-falling night, they could just see the large
outline of the Peruvian steamer from Panama to Valparaiso.
“I wish we could get close enough to enable us to take a picture of it,”
said Polly, wistfully.
“You could never do it! It’s too dark,” said Nancy.
“If Dalky had the Captain turn the searchlight on full force we might
get a good time exposure of it,” suggested Eleanor.
“At least you might try it,” agreed Mr. Dalken. “I’ll tell the Captain
to use the light when he thinks it the proper moment. Then you girls can
experiment with your cameras.”
The confusion of the crowded masses on the decks of the Peruvian,
combined with the soft-coal and wood-burning engine which created a
ceaseless bang and clang of its steel parts, was most deafening to human
ear-drums; also the darkness which screened the yacht prevented those on
the Peruvian from noticing the smaller craft which rode serenely at
anchor not far away.
Suddenly the Captain on the White Crest saluted with the siren as the
big steamer started, and the hoarse blast from the Peruvian as it left
its dock instantly brought all passengers to that side of the steamer
whence the yacht was heard and seen. Many of the passengers of the
steamer had retired, but that made no difference when such a sight as a
graceful, private, oceangoing yacht was to be seen so close by.
Therefore it was not many minutes before a triple line of heads could be
seen along the rail of the rolling Peruvian.
At an unexpected moment the Captain of the White Crest gave the signal
for the powerful searchlight to be thrown on the big southern steamer.
And at that signal Polly and Eleanor focussed their cameras, and began
the time exposure of the pictures.
The searchlight made good on its name that night, for with its blinding
glare it not only surprised the rows of heads craned forward in order to
see the dancing yacht, but it also brought out those forms so scantily
dressed, or rather undressed, in their nightrobes or pajamas. A dismayed
cry rose from those thus caught unawares, and a picture quite different
from the one expected was the result.
That night, just before retiring, the girls took one more look at the
Peruvian, but it had forged ahead out of the Bay, and away on its voyage
down the coast.
Mr. Dalken had planned to leave Panama the next day, and the Captain had
been given orders to that effect; but there were several items of
shopping which the ladies wished to do before leaving for the South
American trip, hence it was past noon before they returned to the yacht.
After leaving the yacht to do their shopping the ladies found their way
to the principal store of Panama. As they stood outside and gazed at the
window display, a voice sounded at Polly’s ear.
“Well! I thought you all were down off Cape Horn, by this time.”
The seven heads turned on the necks of the seven ladies to see who could
be addressing them in that familiar tone. There stood Ray who had bid
them goodbye the night before.
“I suppose you are wondering what I am doing here, instead of being
interviewed by the man who has engaged me for work down here,” remarked
Ray. “I can soon tell you: he will not be in his office until four
o’clock, so that gives me another day off.”
“Well, we certainly are glad to see you once more,” remarked Mrs.
Courtney.
“Yes; now the four girls will attach themselves to you and permit us to
do the shopping for them,” laughed Mrs. Ashby.
“We can thank the custom of Panama business men for this pleasure,”
declared Polly.
“We won’t lose time trying to find out who should be thanked for this,
but we will get busy and make the most of it,” said Ray. Then, as an
after-thought, he said: “By the way, where is Jack?”
“He was afraid to come, because he knew he would have to carry all the
bundles,” laughed Eleanor.
“Besides,” added Polly, “he had to remain with Dalky to attend to some
business letters which must be mailed before we start out on the
Pacific.”
“I wish to goodness Bill had not gone back to Colon yesterday. We might
have had one last jamboree,” remarked Ray.
“Not afraid of so many pretty girls, are you?” giggled Eleanor.
“Say! I can stand as many more of this kind of girl,” declared Ray,
positively. “Can’t get too many of your kind.”
“After that compliment,” said Mrs. Fabian, “we are going to advise the
girls to take care of you this time, instead of you taking care of them.
Now, girls, if we go inside the store to do the shopping, will you
promise to be merciful to this one lone young man?”
“We will promise to take him to luncheon and let him eat everything in
sight,” agreed Nancy with a serious face.
“And we also promise to let him pay the check,” added Eleanor.
Ray now invited the older ladies to join the party, but they said that
they had no time for pleasure that day.
And Mrs. Courtney added: “Did you think we three chaperones could be so
heartless as to be present when you take your last sad farewell of these
four sweethearts?”
The young people laughed at the remark, and then Mrs. Ashby warned them
to be sure and be back on the yacht by two o’clock.
“Good gracious! two o’clock, mother? You know how slow the service is in
Panama and we won’t have more than the silver and a napkin served us by
that time,” exclaimed Ruth.
“Better make it three, at any rate,” begged Ray.
“Very well; we will return to the White Crest when we finish our
shopping and explain why you are absent from lunch on the yacht,”
promised Mrs. Fabian.
“At the same time, tell Dalky that as long as he is saving the cost of
four big lunches, he might give us an extra hour’s time on shore,” said
Eleanor.
“We’ll do the best we can for you,” said Mrs. Courtney; “now run along
and enjoy yourselves.”
Ray had been escorted by Bill the previous evening to a quaint old
Spanish coffee-house in Panama, and here he conducted the four girls in
order to give them a treat—not only a treat of Spanish cooking but also
a treat of old-time life in that old-time city. The service was of the
simplest, but the cooking was of the finest.
As the five young persons had plenty of time in which to enjoy
themselves they managed to pass an hour and a half at the table. Then
Nancy, glancing at her wrist-watch, remarked: “It is now two o’clock.
Don’t you think we ought to be going back to the yacht?” Thus reminded,
Ray called for the bill and the girls prepared to leave.
A few blocks from the old coffee-house they saw Jack talking anxiously
to a Panama policeman. He had a slip of paper in his hand and was
checking off certain items which were written on this paper.
“Why, look at Jack!” called Eleanor.
“He looks as if something had happened,” said Nancy.
They hurried up to his side, and Ray was about to ask him why he seemed
so disturbed, when Jack turned and caught sight of them.
“Well! you’re a nice lot of friends for a fellow to have,” complained
he, impatiently.
“It’s your own fault, we invited you to come shopping with us,” declared
Eleanor.
“Shopping, yes! but you never said a word about a good time with Ray,”
grumbled Jack. “I bet you planned the whole thing yesterday.”
“People who deceive others are always suspicious of everything but
themselves,” quoth Nancy.
“Leaving all of that in the past, let’s make the most of the present,”
advised Ray. “By the way, Jack, what’s your list of restaurants for?”
The officer, seeing that the young stranger had found the friends he had
been seeking, now walked away. Jack held up the paper which he had been
checking and showed the girls the name and address of every eating-place
in Panama, but not the old coffee-house where they had been lunching.
“See that list?” demanded Jack. “Well, I raced around to every blame one
of them the moment I heard you girls had met Ray.”
“How under the sun did you know we were with Ray?” asked Polly, greatly
astonished.
“I’ll tell you: you girls and Ray had not turned the corner of the
street before I came dashing around the other corner to get to the store
where you said you were all going to shop. Just inside the door I saw
Mrs. Courtney, and I was thanking my lucky stars that I had not missed
you—and this is the result.”
“Why did you want us?” asked Eleanor.
“Because, Captain Blake came on deck and told Dalky something went wrong
down in the engine-room and it might be several hours before we could
start. At that, I made up my mind to have one more lark on shore, and I
hurried away to find you all.”
“Now that you have found us, let us have the lark,” laughed Ray.
“But now it is time to go back to the yacht!” growled Jack. “I have been
wasting the two hours hunting for you—I haven’t had a thing to eat.
Let’s go somewhere and keep ourselves from fainting.”
“We’re far from fainting,” laughed Eleanor; “we have been feasting.”
“You don’t mean it!” was Jack’s annoyed reply.
“And what’s more,” added Polly, “we are supposed to be on board the
yacht by three.”
“Yeh, I know! Dalky called after me as I left, saying: ‘be sure and show
up by three, Jack!’ and I suppose I will have to go back with an empty
inside.” Jack’s tone was so plaintive that the girls laughed at him.
Time was passing, however, and Ray had to meet his employer in a short
time, hence he could not accompany his friends back to the yacht. Jack,
being over-eager to get something to eat before going back, it was
finally decided to step into the first restaurant found and order
luncheon for the famished young man. While seated at the table with him,
the girls and Ray could say their final goodbys and be ready to depart
with Jack when he had finished eating.
Upon their return to the yacht the girls discovered that they had missed
a bit of excitement by their absence. The Captain had discovered smoke
issuing from a small store-room back of the engine room and upon
investigation it was found that crossed electric wires had started a
small fire between the partitions. But this was soon extinguished and
quiet reigned once more.
However, this necessary electric work delayed the departure of the White
Crest until late in the afternoon, thus it was sun-down when they
finally got started on their voyage. And here we must leave them to
follow their own inclinations (and the ways of the yacht) down the west
coast. But we shall be able to accompany them on their tour by reading
the next volume, called “Polly in South America.”
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's Polly's Southern Cruise, by Lillian Elizabeth Roy