"How far across to the Pacific at Panama?" "About four days. Three by boat and one by mule, they say." "Anything to eat at Chagres? Any sleeping place?" "Don't know." "Oh, Tom! How'll we engage a canoe? Ought to make up a party and send a man ashore at once, oughtn't we?" Accompanied by this babel of cries, the _Georgia_ steamed up along the shore. She passed the lofty headland, which seemed to guard a fine harbor; and she passed the big bay which people said was Limon. The shore looked very tropical, with its beaches and palms and green hills and thatched huts and glimpses of bright tinted towns, while behind rose the mountain range. Charley gazed spellbound. "Say, where is Chagres?" were asking the passengers crowding along the inshore rail. Yes, indeed; where was Chagres? The _Georgia_ was supposed to land at the town of Chagres, which was at the mouth of the Chagres River, and the way to California then lay up the Chagres River, by canoe, as far as possible; over the mountains by mule, down to the Pacific Ocean at Panama; and aboard the Pacific Mail Company steamship there, for San Francisco. "According to the map," said Mr. Adams, "Chagres is about eight miles up the coast from Limon Bay. I shouldn't wonder if we were turning in for it now." Sure enough, the _Georgia_ was beginning to point for the shore, which rose high and steep, seamed with darker lines that proved to be ravines running down to the sea. A narrow inlet opened in the shore; no, this was the mouth of a river--the Chagres River, said several voices. "I see a castle," cried Charley. "It looks like a castle, anyway. On top of the cliff, above the river. Or maybe it's a fort." "San Lorenzo castle, they call it, I believe," announced Mr. Grigsby. Closer to the river's mouth and the castle above swept the _Georgia_. Her whistle sounded hoarsely. Still no town appeared; and to general disappointment, when about a quarter of a mile from shore, opposite the mouth of the river, she stopped her engines, there was a rattle of chains through the hawse holes, and she had dropped anchor! Almost immediately a boat pulled away from her, for the shore. It contained the captain and two or three other officials. They soon entered the mouth of the river and disappeared. The passengers, pressed against the rails on all the decks, their hand baggage ready, murmured irritably, but no other boats were launched and evidently it was not yet time for them also to go ashore. "If you two will look after the baggage, I'll try to get ashore among the first and hire a boat," offered Mr. Adams. "That's the best idea," approved Mr. Grigsby. "There won't be boats enough to go 'round, and somebody'll get left."