been taking away more and more of its waters, and the port of
Greytown has in consequence silted up. All ships now have to lie
off outside, and a shallow and, in heavy weather, dangerous bar has
to be crossed.* [* Greytown is still the headquarters of Nicaraguan
trade with Europe and Eastern America though the attempts to
improve the harbour by dredging and building jetties have had only
partial success. Its great opportunity passed with the final
abandonment, in favour of the Panama route, of the scheme for an
inter-oceanic canal by way of the lakes, with its eastern terminus
a mile to the north of the town at a spot which was named
"America."]

All we could see from the steamer was the sandy beach on which the
white surf was breaking, a fringe of bushes with a few coco-nut
palms holding up their feathery crowns, and in the distance a low
background of dark foliage. Before we anchored a gun was fired, and
in quick answer to the signal some canoes, paddled by negroes of
the Mosquito coast, here called "Caribs," were seen crossing the
bar, and in a few minutes were alongside. Getting into one of the
canoes with my boxes, I was rapidly paddled towards the shore. When
we reached the bar we were dexterously taken over it--the Caribs
waited just outside until a higher wave than usual came rolling in,
then paddling with all their might we were carried over on its
crest, and found ourselves in the smooth water of the river.

Many lives have been lost on this bar. In 1872 the commander of the
United States surveying expedition and six of his men were drowned
in trying to cross it in heavy weather. Only a few mangled remnants
of their bodies were ever found; for what adds to the horror of an
upset at this place, and perhaps has unnerved many a man at a