A walk of a mile or two along the river bank, affording beneficial exercise, brought us to Port San Carlos, from which point a larger boat crossed the lake to Virgin Bay, where we took mules to convey us to San Juan del Sur. This journey was as full of hardship as it was of congeniality, and proved as interesting as it was amusing. Imagine, if you please, nine hundred men, women and children from northern climes, long accustomed to the ways of civilization, suddenly precipitated, under an intensely hot tropical sun, into a small, Central American landing, consisting of a few huts and some cheap, improvised tents (used for saloons and restaurants), every one in search of a mule or a horse, the only modes of transportation. The confusion necessarily following the preparation for this part of the trip can hardly be imagined: the steamship company furnished the army of animals, and the nervous tourists furnished the jumble! Each one of the nine hundred travelers feared that there would not be enough animals for all, and the anxiety to secure a beast caused a stampede.
In the scramble, I managed to get hold of a fine mule, and presently we were all mounted and ready to start. This conglomeration of humanity presented, indeed, a ludicrous sight; and I really believe that I must have been the most grotesque figure of them all. I have mentioned the demijohn of brandy, which a friend advised me to buy; but I have not mentioned another friend who told me that I should be in danger of sunstroke in this climate, and who induced me to carry an umbrella to protect myself from the fierce rays of the enervating sun. Picture me, then, none too short and very lank, astride a mule, a big demijohn in one hand, and a spreading, green umbrella in the other, riding through this southern village, and practically incapable of contributing anything to the course of the mule. Had the animal been left to his own resources, he might have followed the caravan; but in my ignorance, I attempted to indicate to him which direction he should take. My method was evidently not in accordance with the tradition of guiding in just that part of the world; and to make a long story short, the mule, with his three-fold burden, deftly walked into a restaurant, in the most innocent manner and to the very great amusement of the diners, but to the terrible embarrassment and consternation of the rider. After some difficulty (for the restaurant was hardly intended for such maneuvers as were required), we were led out of the tent. This experience showed me the necessity of abandoning either the umbrella or the brandy; and learning that lemonade could be had at points along the route, I bade good-bye to the demijohn and its exhilarating contents. From this time on, although I still displayed inexpertness in control, his muleship and I gradually learned to understand each other, and matters progressed very well, notwithstanding the intense heat, and the fatigue natural to riding so long in such an unaccustomed manner. The lemonade, though warm and, therefore, dear at ten cents a glass, helped to quench my thirst; and as the scenery was wonderful, I derived all the benefit and pleasure possible from the short journey.