"And good enough for him!" was Vasco's comment.

Just at this time Juan appeared in the doorway of the hut. "Come, boys, let's have something to eat," he said.

Vasco, Our Little Panama Cousin — Part 20

That was an invitation none of them cared to refuse, and they responded as only three hungry boys could.

Vasco, Our Little Panama Cousin — Part 20

Outside on a rude bench was spread the fresh fish that Juan knew so well how to cook over his camp-fire, together with Vasco's boiled eggs, potatoes, plaintains, and all sorts of vegetables and fruit. The sail and the long walk had added zest to appetites always splendid, and the good things on the bench disappeared as if by magic.

Vasco, Our Little Panama Cousin — Part 20

"I must say," said Harlan, "that that's about the best tasting fish I ever ate. And I have eaten a good many kinds, too."

Juan, silent like most of his race, said nothing in reply to the compliment, but a significant look and a grunt of satisfaction showed that he appreciated the American boy's remark.

The boys finished their meal with generous mugs of hot cocoa. Juan was an expert in its preparation, but to his own particular draught he added a seasoning of chili pepper. This he drank boiling hot,--a process which would have terribly scalded the mouths and throats of his visitors, but the Indian swallowed the hot mixture without any trouble and with much satisfaction.

Vasco and his friends looked on in amazement, and were all the more surprised when Juan told them that in years gone by it was the fashion of his forefathers to sit upon the ground with open mouths while their squaws poured the boiling mixture down their throats.

[Illustration: THE TOWER OF THE OLD CATHEDRAL]

Their generous dinner disposed of, Vasco suggested that they immediately begin the exploration of the old city. This was agreed to by the others, and under Juan's guidance they at once made their way into the dense jungle which had grown up about the ruins.

Neither of the Panama boys was very romantic in disposition, but Vasco could not help thinking of the pirates of whom Harlan had told,--how they had trod this very ground, and how back and forth Spaniards and buccaneers had swept in bloody battle. All the military ardour which had been born in his breast was aroused, and he even caught himself wishing that he had been there to help defend the city. Little did he realize how much less enchanting was the experience than the story.