The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great CanalBrereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
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The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great Canal
Brereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
Panama Canal (Panama) -- Juvenile fiction
He looked round at the assembled audience enquiringly, and was rewarded
with many a sharp nod of approval.
"You've got it, siree," cried one of them. "You've jest put your finger
on the very point I was about to ask."
"It's as clear as daylight," went on the official, "our young friend
here saved the whole party by keeping his head well screwed down and his
wits about him. If that motor had overheated, as any self-respecting
engine might well have been expected to do under the circumstances, you
were all goners. All dead, sir. Wiped out clean by those natives."
There came a grunt of acquiescence from the audience, while Jim went red
to the roots of his hair.
"You don't happen to have got fixed on a special job yet awhile?" asked
the official pointedly.
"I'm to take a steam digger away up by Culebra."
"And you wouldn't change, supposing I was to come forward with an offer?
See here," said the official eagerly, "I'm from the machine shops 'way
over at Gorgona. You've heard of them?"
Everyone in the canal zone had heard of these immense shops to which the
official alluded, for there a great amount of engineering work was
undertaken. In such a colossal task as this building of a canal between
Panama and Colon, between the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, the reader
will readily comprehend that an enormous number of locomotives, steam
diggers, and machinery of every sort and description was in constant
operation, and that, like machinery all the world over, such implements
break down on occasion and require repair. The works at Gorgona coped
with all such matters, and was staffed by such keen engineers that they
even did not stop at repairs of whatever description. There, in those
sheds, engines were constructed, from the smallest bolt down to the
heaviest crank shaft, according to the designs produced at the drawing
offices at Gorgona. The workers on the canal had long since discovered
that special machines were often required to deal with the special jobs
they had in progress. And clever heads at Gorgona invented means to
satisfy them. Witness the ingenious rail layer, without which the task
of delving would have been much delayed; witness that other clever
arrangement which did in seven minutes the work of a hundred men, and
swept the dirt clear from a whole line of earth wagons.
"You've heard of those shops 'way over at Gorgona?" asked the official
again.
"I have," Jim admitted. "I'm longing to see them."
"Then you shall, I promise. But, see here, about this job. A good man
deserves a proper place for his knowledge and his energies; down there,
at Gorgona, we've just turned out a gasolene rock driller that'll knock
the other steam-driven concerns into the shade. I'm looking for a man to
run it, one used to gasolene motors. Say, if I apply for you, sir, will
you take the work?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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