round the shark. They were of about a pound weight, and were marked
exactly like our fresh-water perch, except that their stripes were
bright blue on a golden ground. As the shark is rather stupid, and has
but poor eyesight, the function of the pilot-fish is to ascertain
where food is to be found, and then to show their master the way to
it, after which, like the sycophants they are, they live on the crumbs
that fall from his mouth. The pilot-fish only deserted their master
when the derrick hauled him out of the water, and at the same time
some dozen remoras, or sucking-fish, looking like disgusted bloated
leeches, let go their hold on the shark and dropped back into the sea.

No human being would voluntarily pay a second visit to Colon, a dirty,
mean collection of shanties, with inhabitants worthy of it. The
principal article of commerce seemed to be black-calico "funeral
suits," a sartorial novelty to me.

Since the Americans took command of the Canal Zone they have achieved
wonders in the way of sanitation, and have practically extirpated
yellow fever. The credit for this is principally due to Colonel
Goethals, but no amount of sanitation can transform a belt of swamps
with an annual rainfall of 150 inches into a health-resort. The
yellow-lined faces of the American engineers told their own tale,
although they had no longer to contend with the fearful mortality from
yellow fever which, together with venality and corruption, effectually
wrecked Ferdinand de Lesseps' attempt to pierce the Isthmus in 1889.

The railway between Colon and Panama was opened as far back as 1855,
and is supposed to have cost a life for every sleeper laid. Neglected
little cemeteries stretch beside the track almost from ocean to ocean.
Before the American Government took over the railway there was one