claimed by three
petty powers: Costa Rica, Nicaragua, and "Mosquito." Great Britain
backed the "Mosquito" claim; and, in virtue of certain privileges
granted by the "Mosquito" King, the authorities of San Juan del
Norte--the port better known in those days as Graytown, albeit 'twas as
green as grass--threatened to seize Punta Arenas for public use.
Thereupon Graytown was bombarded; but immediately rose, Phoenix-like,
from its ashes, and was flourishing when we arrived. The current number
of _Harper's Monthly_, a copy of which we brought on board when we
embarked at New York, contained an illustrated account of the
bombardment of Graytown, which added not a little to the interest of the
hour.

While we were speculating as to the nature of our next experience,
suddenly a stern-wheel, flat-bottom boat backed up alongside of the Star
of the West. She was of the pattern of the small freight-boats that
still ply the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. If the Star of the West was
small, this stern-wheel scow was infinitely smaller. There was but one
cabin, and it was rendered insufferably hot by the boilers that were set
in the middle of it. There was one flush deck, with an awning stretched
above it that extended nearly to the prow of the boat. It was said our
passenger list numbered fourteen hundred. The gold boom in California
was still at fever heat. Every craft that set sail for the Isthmus by
the Nicaragua or Panama route, or by the weary route around Cape Horn,
was packed full of gold-seekers. It was the Golden Age of the Argonauts;
and, if my memory serves me well, there were no reserved seats worth the
price thereof.

The first river boat at our disposal was for the exclusive accommodation
of the cabin passengers, or as many of them as could be crowded upon
her--and we were among them. Other steamers were to follow as soon as
practicable. Hours, even days, passed by, and the passengers on the
ocean steamers were sometimes kept waiting the arrival of the river
boats that were aground or had been belated up the stream.

About two hundred of us boarded the first boat. Our luggage of the
larger sort was stowed away in barges and towed after us. The decks were
strewn with hand-bags, camp-stools, bundles, and rolls of rugs. The
lower deck was two feet above the water. As we looked back upon the Star
of the West, waving a glad farewell to the ship that had brought us more
than two thousand miles across the sea, she loomed like a