The Canal Zone now being healthy, the life of the Americans is a cheerful as well as a busy one. The climate, to which the local diseases used to be attributed, is not by any means wholly bad. There are really two climates, that of the Atlantic seaboard and that of the Pacific side. Colon is somewhat trying on account of the humidity, but a healthy trade-wind blows. The town of Panama, though receiving much less rain, is also somewhat humid, owing to there being less breeze. The temperature, however, is lower than that of the great cities of the United States, even in the North, during summer heat-waves, the hours of sunshine are shorter, and the general feeling of oppression is, I think, distinctly less. The Ancon suburb, where the Commission buildings are situate, is free from the humidity of the low-lying city. The high lands at or near Culebra, where a large part of the American population now resides in screened wooden buildings, enjoy in the dry season a bracing climate, a fresh dry wind blowing across the divide, imparting a sense of exhilaration, which is heightened by the fine scenery, the pleasant scents of the surrounding woodland, and the ordered activity of the life. Amidst such circumstances the Canal official finds it easy to work hard. I noticed in this a great contrast to the condition ten years ago at Ismailia, the headquarters of the Suez Canal Administration. This place, before Major E. Ross's discoveries, suffered severely from malaria, and the officials of the Administration, some of whom had resided there for twenty years or more, were in many cases saturated with malarial poison. Work for them was a burden, bravely borne indeed, but taken up each day with a sigh. I spent about a fortnight there in a hot season conducting some investigations upon the forms and movement of drifting sand-dunes. I suffered during part of the time from fever, and only kept on working with an effort, whereas on the Isthmus I enjoyed more than usual vigour. At Culebra, indeed, the dry season is so bracing that the arrival of the rains is welcome for the soothing effect of greater humidity, as well as on account of diminished dust. The white woolly cloud or mist which then wraps round the hill-tops is no longer the "white death," as it was called in the days of the French Company, when the vapours were credited the poison which really lurks in the mosquito. Even now, however, there is an increase in the number of mosquitoes, and some increase in malaria, when the rains come. [Illustration: GANG OF EUROPEAN LABOURERS (IN 1907).] [Illustration: A FORMER HOT-BED OF MALARIA, NOW DRAINED.]