Darien and Panama are in the Republic of New Granada, but north of these come the small states of Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, San Salvador, and Guatemala. All of these are inhabited by true Americans--native races who have to a considerable extent absorbed the slight admixture of European blood introduced by their conquerors. Some places are so inaccessible as to be virtually outside the pale of civilisation. The roads are nothing but mule tracks, full of quagmires where the animals have to wade up to their girths in mud--in fact, little better than the paths so well described by Lionel Wafer. The rivers are numerous, and, on account of the heavy rainfall, their currents are very strong, and all the more dangerous from the numerous sandbanks and rapids which obstruct their course. Since the states gained their independence they have passed through so many changes of government that at the beginning hardly a month passed without a revolution in one or the other. This went on until 1848 without interference from outside, but with the discovery of gold in California came an invasion of ruffians of all nations. The old freebooters almost seemed to have come to life again. Hardy adventurers from all parts of the world rushed off to the new "El Dorado," woke the sleepy Nicaraguans on the San Juan river, and roused the people of Chagres. Over the isthmus of Panama or through the Nicaragua lake they flocked by thousands, necessitating the establishment of Transit Companies to provide them with mules, boats, and steamers. The easiest, although longest, route was through Nicaragua, which was controlled by the Vanderbilt Company, and during the time the "rush" lasted they took over two or three thousand per month. The Company had steamers on the lake to meet the throng of diggers as they arrived, and they passed through at regular intervals like a tide. The overland part of the route presented a strange spectacle, with their pack mules and horses. Men of all nationalities, armed with pistols and knives, which they were prepared to use on the Greasers (natives) at the slightest provocation, put these altogether in the background. A traveller has spoken of them as a string of romantic figures that could not be matched in any other part of the world. Some glowed with fervent passion, as if on fire, others were hard, cold, and rugged as the rocky passes they traversed, while a few were worn, old, and decaying, under the effects of the hardships and reverses of their stormy existence. Every line in their faces had a meaning, if it could only have been interpreted, telling of sin and suffering--of adventures more terrible than were ever portrayed by the pen of the romantic writer, and of experiences as fascinating as they had been dangerous.