Gorgona looked all alive, and seemed to be rather a considerable place for the Isthmus. The palm-thatched houses of the natives looked very picturesque there, many of them towering to an immense height, and appearing not unlike pictures I have seen of the great African Baobab tree (only higher and more tapering), with slight cane walls running up all round to meet the outward edge of the circle of its widely-spreading and high-reared boughs.

This Isthmusian town is situated on a very high and steep bank, up which it was rather hard work to climb under the scorching sun, for our disembarkation there was accomplished under one of the most broiling skies I ever encountered. Close to the river were encamped immense numbers of Americans, who were waiting for mules, or reposing themselves, after perhaps working their way up the river, or who, from neglecting sanitary, precautions, were suffering from the fever.

A Frenchman came up to me, and said he belonged to an excellent posada here, which he recommended, but I found it was much crowded and did not go to it. The American Hotel of Mr. Miller I heard was quite full, and I ultimately decided on going to a native hotel, which was kept by a Gorgonian, who rejoiced in a family of twelve daughters and I do not know how many sons.