The Moving Picture Boys at Panama; Or, Stirring Adventures Along the Great Canal

by Victor Appleton

  CHAPTER XIII

  IN THE JUNGLE

  "What will we do with the cameras, Blake? The films, too, theywill all be spoiled--we haven't enough waterproof cases!" criedJoe to his chum, as the boat, through some accident or failure,backed nearer and nearer to the closing steel gates.

  "Will we really have to jump overboard?" asked the Spaniard. "I amnot a very excellent swimmer."

  But Blake, at whom these questions seemed directed, did not haveto answer them. For, after a series of confused shouts on the topof the concrete wall above them the movement of the boat, as wellas the slow motion of the lock gates, ceased. It was just in time,for the rudder of the tug was not more than a few feet away fromthe jaws of steel.

  "You're all right now," a man called down to those on the tug,from the wall over their heads. "Something went wrong with thetowing locomotives. There's no more danger."

  "Well, I'm glad to know that," answered Captain Watson gruffly."You might just as well kill a man as scare him to death. What wasthe matter, anyhow?"

  "Well, all of our machinery isn't working as smoothly as we'llhave it later," the canal engineer explained. "Some of our signalswent wrong as you were being towed through, and you went backwardinstead of forward. Then it took a minute or so to stop the lockgates. But you're all right now, and you'll go on through."

  Blake and Joe looked at each other and smiled in relief, and Mr.Alcando appeared to breathe easier. A little later the tug wasagain urged forward toward the front lock gates. Then the closingof those at her stern went on, until the vessel was in a squaresteel and concrete basin--or, rather, a rectangular one, for itwas longer than it was wide, to lend itself to the shape of thevessels. As Blake had said, it was like a big swimming tank.

  "Now we'll go up," Captain Watson said. "You can't get anypictures in here, I suppose?" he added.

  "We can show the water bubbling up as it fills the lock," saidBlake. "Water always makes a pretty scene in moving pictures, asit seems to move at just the right rate of speed. We'll take ashort strip of film, Joe, I guess."

  The tug did not occupy a whole section of the lock, for they arebuilt to accommodate vessels a thousand feet long. To economizetime in filling up such a great tank as that would be the locksare subdivided by gates into small tanks for small vessels.

  "It takes just forty-six gates for all the locks," explainedCaptain Watson, while Blake and Joe were getting their camera inposition, and the men at the locks were closing certain watervalves and opening others. "Each lock has two leaves, or gates,and their weight runs anywhere from three hundred to six hundredtons, according to its position. Some of the gates are forty-sevenfeet high, and others nearly twice that, and each leaf issixty-five feet wide, and seven feet thick."

  "Think of being crushed between two steel gates, of six hundredtons each, eighty feet high, sixty-five feet wide and seven feetthick," observed Joe.

  "I don't want to think of it!" laughed Blake. "We are well out ofthat," and he glanced back toward the closed and water-tight lockgates which had so nearly nipped the tug.

  "Here comes the water!" cried the captain. There was a hissing andgurgling sound, and millions of bubbles began to show on thesurface of the limpid fluid in which floated the _Nama_. The watercame in from below, through the seventy openings in the floor ofeach lock, being admitted by means of pipes and culverts from theupper level.

  As the water hissed, boiled and bubbled while it flowed in Blaketook moving pictures of it. Slowly the _Nama_ rose. Higher andhigher she went until finally she was raised as high as thatsection of the lock would lift her. She went up at the rate of twofeet a minute, though Captain Watson explained that when there wasneed of hurry the rate could be three feet a minute.

  "And we have two more locks to go through?" asked Joe.

  "Yes, two more here at Gatun, and three at Miraflores; or, rather,there is one lock at Pedro Miguel, where we go down thirty and athird feet, and then we go a mile to reach the locks atMiraflores.

  "There we shall have to go through two locks, with a total drop offifty-four and two-thirds feet," Captain Watson explained. "Thesystem is the same at each place."

  The tug was now resting easily in the basin, but some feet abovethe sea level. Blake and Joe had taken enough moving pictures ofthis phase of the Canal, since the next scenes would be but arepetition of the process in the following two locks that wouldlift the _Nama_ to the level of Gatun Lake.

  "But I tell you what we could do," Blake said to his chum.

  "What's that--swim the rest of the way," asked Joe, "and have Mr.Alcando make pictures of us?"

  "No, we've had enough of water lately. But we could get out on topof the lock walls, and take pictures of the tug going through thelock. That would be different."

  "So it would!" cried Joe. "We'll do it!"

  They easily obtained permission to do this, and soon, with theircameras, and accompanied by Mr. Alcando, they were on the concretewall. From that vantage point they watched the opening of the lockgates, which admitted the _Nama_ into the next basin. There shewas shut up, by the closing of the gates behind her, and raised tothe second level. The boys succeeded in getting some good picturesat this point and others, also, when the tug was released from thethird or final lock, and steamed out into Gatun Lake. There wasnow before her thirty-two miles of clear water before reachingMiraflores.

  "Better come aboard, boys," advised Captain Watson, "and I'll takeyou around to Gatun Dam. You'll want views of that."

  "We sure will!" cried Blake.

  "Isn't it all wonderful!" exclaimed Joe, who was deeply impressedby all he saw.

  "It is, indeed!" agreed the Spaniard. "Your nation is a powerfuland great one. It is a tremendous achievement."

  Aboard the tug they went around toward the great dam that isreally the key to the Panama Canal. For without this dam therewould be no Gatun Lake, which holds back the waters of the ChagresRiver, making a big lake eighty-five feet above the level of theocean. It is this lake that makes possible the operation of a lockcanal. Otherwise there would have to be a sea-level one, andprobably you boys remember what a discussion there was, inCongress and elsewhere, about the advantages and disadvantages ofa sea-level route across the Isthmus.

  But the lock canal was decided on, and, had it not been, it isprobable that the Canal would be in process of making for manyyears yet to come, instead of being finished now.

  "Whew!" whistled Joe, as they came in sight of the dam. "That sureis going some!"

  "That's what it is!" cried Captain Watson, proudly, for he had hada small part in the work. "It's a mile and a half long, half amile thick at the base, three hundred feet through at thewaterline, and on top a third of that."

  "How high is it?" asked Joe, who always liked to know just how bigor how little an object was. He had a great head for figures.

  "It's one hundred and five feet high," the captain informed him,"and it contains enough concrete so that if it were loaded intotwo-horse wagons it would make a procession over three timesaround the earth."

  "Catch me! I'm going to faint!" cried Blake, staggered at theimmensity of the figure.

  "That dam is indeed the key to the whole lock," murmured Mr.Alcando, as he looked at the wonderful piece of engineering. "Ifit were to break--the Canal would be ruined."

  "Yes, ruined, or at least destroyed for many years," said CaptainWatson solemnly. "But it is impossible for the dam to break ofitself. No waters that could come into the lake could tear itaway, for every provision has been made for floods. They would beharmless."

  "What about an earthquake?" asked Joe. "I've read that theengineers feared them."

  "They don't now," said the captain. "There was some talk, atfirst, of an earthquake, or a volcanic eruption, destroying thedam, but Panama has not been visited by a destructive earthquakein so long that the danger need not be considered. And there areno volcanoes near enough to do any harm. It is true, there mightbe a slight earthquake shock, but the dam would stand that. Theonly thing that mig
ht endanger it would be a blast of dynamite."

  "Dynamite!" quickly exclaimed Mr. Alcando. "And who would dare toexplode dynamite at the dam?"

  "I don't know who would do it, but some of the enemies of theUnited States might. Or someone who fancied the Canal had damagedhim," the captain went on.

  "And who would that be?" asked Blake in a low tone.

  "Oh, someone, or some firm, who might fancy that the Canal tookbusiness away from them. It will greatly shorten certain trafficand trade routes, you know."

  "Hardly enough to cause anyone to commit such a crime as that, doyou think?" asked the Spaniard.

  "That is hard to answer," went on the tug commander. "I know thatwe are taking great precautions, though, to prevent the dam, orthe locks, from being damaged. Uncle Sam is taking no chances.Well, have you pictures enough?"

  "I think so," answered Blake. "When we come back we'll stop offhere and get some views from below the dam, showing the spillway."

  "Yes, that ought to be interesting," the captain agreed.

  The tug now steamed on her way out into Gatun Lake, and there aseries of excellent views were obtained for the moving picturecameras. Mr. Alcando was allowed to do his part. He was rapidlylearning what the boys could teach him.

  "Of course it could never happen," the Spaniard said, when thecameras had been put away, for the views to be obtained then wereof too much sameness to attract Joe or Blake, "it would neverhappen, and I hope it never does; but if it did it would make awonderful picture; would it not?" he asked.

  "What are you talking about?" asked Blake.

  "The Gatun Dam," was the answer. "If ever it was blown up bydynamite it would make a wonderful scene."

  "Too wonderful," said Joe grimly. "It would be a terrible crimeagainst civilization to destroy this great canal."

  "Yes, it would be a great crime," agreed the Spaniard in a lowvoice. A little later he went to his stateroom on the tug, andBlake and Joe remained on deck.

  "Queer sort of a chap; isn't he?" said Joe.

  "He sure is--rather deep," agreed his chum.

  "Are you boys going into the jungle?" asked the tug captain thatafternoon.

  "Yes, we want to get a few views showing life in the woods,"answered Blake. "Why?"

  "Well, the reason I asked is that I can take you to the mouth ofthe Chagres River and from there you won't have so much troublepenetrating into the interior. So if you're going--"

  "I think we had better go; don't you?" asked Blake of his chum.

  "Surely, yes. We might get some fine pictures. They'll go wellwith the Canal, anyhow; really a sort of part of the series we'retaking."

  "All right, then, I'll leave you in the jungle," the captain said.

  A day or so later, stops having been made to permit the boys tofilm certain scenes they wanted, the tug reached Gamboa, wherethey stopped, to plan a trip into the interior.

  Then, one morning, with their cameras loaded with film, theystarted off for a brief trip into the jungle.