There is one other cemetery about two miles from Colon called Mount Hope, better known on the isthmus as “Monkey Hill.” The graves marked with wooden crosses contain the remains of representatives of nearly every country in the world. The monuments erected are of the most flimsy materials, so that any indications of the last resting-place of thousands of the makers of the isthmian route will inevitably disappear. So accustomed were the inhabitants of Colon to the procession of the funeral train, that they became quite callous to the fate of the many who had been stricken with the deadly fevers so rampant in the place, and funerals going along the streets are usually followed by mourners engaged in lively conversation and smoking big cigars. Close contact with these melancholy scenes is unavoidable in the small area in which the inhabitants of the towns of Colon and Panama dwell, and the high death-rate which both have suffered from has made their populations familiar with the trappings of woe. The road that leads out of the city to the Savannahs, where the summer residences of the better class merchants are situated, is good, as it comes within the canal strip ceded to the States. It is mostly used by the gentry of Panama, and it has lately been extended right out to the ruins of the earliest Latin city in America, “old Panama,” which was destroyed by Morgan in his famous raid. Very little remains of the city which was known to its contemporaries as the “Golden cup of the West.” Its churches with rich altars, and houses filled with priceless tapestries, its richly furnished mansions, its opulent warehouses and wealthy inhabitants, belong to the past. The ruined tower and walls, all overgrown with jungle, that lie near the shore, are all that remain of the cathedral church of St. Anastasius. A couple of narrow masonry bridges near the city indicate where the famous “gold road” led into the town. Over this road, the Cruces trail which led from Panama on the Pacific to Porto Bello on the Atlantic, travelled the famous mule trains with their precious freights of gold and silver from Peru. The road can still be followed, a track of huge, irregular stones marking the course it took, and in some places fair-sized patches of the pavement are still intact. There is little interesting about the ruined city except its associations with the past. It is dead, and nature is striving hard to inter it decently beneath a luxuriant pall of green. One can only visit the spot to stir the imagination and call up its wondrous past. On this spot Pizarro banded his followers together, and from the now overgrown harbour walls his little fleet set sail on one of the most momentous voyages on record. The happenings in “old Panama” make the first page in the voluminous history of the great sub-continent.