The market-house at the canal wharf was one place where Ken thought Hal would forget himself in the bustle and din and color. All was so strange and new. Indeed, for a time Hal appeared to be absorbed in his surroundings, but when he came to a stall where a man had parrots and racoons and small deer, and three little yellow, black-spotted tiger-cats, as George called them, then once more Ken had to take Hal in tow. Outside along the wharf were moored a hundred or more canoes of manifold variety. All had been hewn from solid tree-trunks. Some were long, slender, graceful, pretty to look at, and easy to handle in shallow lagoons, but Ken thought them too heavy and cumbersome for fast water. Happening just then to remember Micas Falls, Ken had a momentary chill and a check to his enthusiasm for the jungle trip. What if he encountered, in coming down the Santa Rosa, some such series of cascades as those which made Micas Falls! It was about noon when George led the boys out to the banks of the broad Panuco. Both Hal and Ken were suffering from the heat. They had removed their coats, and were now very glad to rest in the shade. “This is a nice cool day,” said George, and he looked cool. “We’ve got on our heavy clothes, and this tropic sun is new to us,” replied Ken. “Say, Hal--” A crash in the water near the shore interrupted Ken. “Was that a rhinoceros?” inquired Hal. “Savalo,” said George. “What’s that?” “Silver king. A tarpon. Look around and you’ll see one break water. There are some fishermen trolling down-stream. Watch. Maybe one will hook a fish presently. Then you’ll see some jumping.” It was cool in the shade, as the brothers soon discovered, and they spent a delightful hour watching the river and the wild fowl and the tarpon. Ken and Hal were always lucky. Things happened for their benefit and pleasure. Not only did they see many tarpon swirl like bars of silver on the water, but a fisherman hooked one of the great fish not fifty yards from where the boys sat. And they held their breath, and with starting eyes watched the marvelous leaps and dashes of the tarpon till, as he shot up in a last mighty effort, wagging his head, slapping his huge gills, and flinging the hook like a bullet, he plunged back free. “Nine out of ten get away,” remarked George. “Did you ever catch one?” asked Hal. “Sure.” “Hal, I’ve got to have some of this fishing,” said Ken. “But if we start at it now--would we ever get that jungle trip?” “Oh, Ken, you’ve made up your mind to go!” exclaimed Hal, in glee. “No, I haven’t,” protested Ken. “Yes, you have,” declared Hal. “I know you.” And the whoop that he had suppressed in the hotel he now let out with good measure. Naturally George was interested, and at his inquiry Ken told him the idea for the Santa Rosa trip.