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whose death shocked me so terribly, and with whose useful heroic life
the English public have become so familiar. I can hear the ring of his
boyish laughter even now.

In the year 1850, the cholera swept over the island of Jamaica with
terrible force. Our idea--perhaps an unfounded one--was, that a
steamer from New Orleans was the means of introducing it into the
island. Anyhow, they sent some clothes on shore to be washed, and poor
Dolly Johnson, the washerwoman, whom we all knew, sickened and died of
the terrible disease. While the cholera raged, I had but too many
opportunities of watching its nature, and from a Dr. B----, who was
then lodging in my house, received many hints as to its treatment
which I afterwards found invaluable.

Early in the same year my brother had left Kingston for the Isthmus of
Panama, then the great high-road to and from golden California, where
he had established a considerable store and hotel. Ever since he had
done so, I had found some difficulty in checking my reviving
disposition to roam, and at last persuading myself that I might be of
use to him (he was far from strong), I resigned my house into the
hands of a cousin, and made arrangements to journey to Chagres. Having
come to this conclusion, I allowed no grass to grow beneath my feet,
but set to work busily, for I was not going to him empty-handed. My
house was full for weeks, of tailors, making up rough coats, trousers,
etc., and sempstresses cutting out and making shirts. In addition to
these, my kitchen was filled with busy people, manufacturing
preserves, guava jelly, and other delicacies, while a considerable sum
was invested in the purchase of preserved meats, vegetables, and eggs.
It will be as well, perhaps, if I explain, in as few words as
possible, the then condition of the Isthmus of Panama.

All my readers must know--a glance at the map will show it to those
who do not--that between North America and the envied shores of
California stretches a little neck of land, insignificant-looking
enough on the map, dividing the Atlantic from the Pacific. By crossing
this, the travellers from America avoided a long, weary, and dangerous
sea voyage round Cape Horn, or an almost impossible journey by land.

But that journey across the Isthmus, insignificant in distance as it
was, was by no means an easy one. It seemed as if nature had
determined to throw every conceivable obstacle in the way of those who
should seek to join th