total destruction of Kingston, our destination, by the great
earthquake of January 14, but it was too late to turn back, so on we
went, past breezy Barbados, and sweltering Trinidad, to the Spanish
Main. The curious little nautilus, or Portuguese man-of-war, is very
common in these waters, and can be seen in quantities sailing along
the surface with their crude-magenta membranes extended to the breeze.
Cartagena de Indias, a city of narrow streets, high houses and massive
ramparts, is a curious piece of seventeenth-century Spain to find
transplanted to the Tropics. I imagine that all its inhabitants, by
the law of the survival of the fittest, must be immune from fever,
which is certainly not the case in that most unattractive spot Colon.

It may interest any prospective visitors to Colon to learn that there
is excellent tarpon fishing in Colon Harbour itself. My nephew, having
provided himself with a tarpon rod, hooked a splendid fish from the
deck of the mail-steamer, the bait being a "cavalle," a local white
fish of some 3 lbs. My nephew played the tarpon for nearly two hours;
the fish fought splendidly, shooting continuously into the air, a
curved glittering bar of silver, 180 lbs. of giant gleaming herring,
when the line (a stout piano wire) suddenly snapped as he was being
reeled in. A tarpon fisherman has a leathern "bucket" strapped in
front of him, in which to rest the butt of his rod, otherwise the
strain would be too great. Whilst my nephew was playing his tarpon, I
was fortunate enough to hook a large shark, and there was little fear
of my line parting, for it was a light chain of solid steel. I was
surprised that the brute showed so little fight, he let me tow him
about where I liked. We fixed a running noose to the wire rope of a
derrick, and after a few attempts succeeded in dropping it over the
shark's head, and in tautening it behind his fins; the steam-derrick
did the rest. I could see distinctly six or seven pilot-fish playing