“We are losing a lot of time. The sooner we go back to Peru and have it over with the better. Think of the tons of gold lying in the cave waiting for us to carry them away.” “I know. How do your people feel about it? I suppose they are not eager to have you go?” “The situation is the same with me as with you. But I think we should start without further delay. There are so many things to be done when we get back, and time flies.” Then, after a moment’s thought: “I have been looking up the sailing dates. There is a good steamer for Panama next Tuesday--that is, a week from to-day. It will get us to the isthmus just in time to connect with the _Panela_ of the Peruvian Line for Mollendo. Can you be ready then, or is that too soon?” “I could be ready to-morrow. Waiting a whole week, now that we have actually decided to go, will seem like a year!” “And,” said Ted as Stanley was leaving, “we had better not take anything with us from here. We can get all the supplies and outfit we need in Cuzco.” * * * * * Arrived in Colon, they found the _Panela_ scheduled to sail that same afternoon. There was barely sufficient time to transfer their baggage, comply with the customs formalities, and secure passage on the departing steamer. Before long they had entered the muddy water of the canal, and soon after that the ship entered the locks and in an almost incredibly short time was raised to the level of Gatun Lake, with its vast expanse of murky water and its fringe of tree skeletons that stood like black monuments to mark the graveyard of the inundated forest. Darkness prevented the completion of the trip through the canal, so the ship was tied up for the night. There was no moonlight, but the thousands of scintillating stars shed a soft radiance upon the torpid earth. The water was black and smooth as glass, save for the myriad points of reflected starlight. But in spite of the unruffled appearance of the surface the black depths were charged with life. One had only to drop some object overboard in order to excite to action the millions of jelly-fish that lurked below. When the water was agitated by the missile, no matter how lightly, it blazed with patches and circles of greenish phosphorescence, so that the surface seemed aflame with a weird, unearthly fire. And occasionally there was a streak of the same uncanny light as one of the larger inhabitants of the deep cut the surface in a burst of speed in pursuit of some of the lesser fry. With the coming of daylight the _Panela_ was lowered through the locks at the far end of the canal and headed for the open ocean.