The lake, much higher now than in my former Gatun days, was licking at the 27-foot level that morning. Under the brilliant blue sky it looked like some vast unruffled mirror which is no figure of speech, but plain fact. "Through a Forest in a Motor-boat" we might have dubbed the trip. We had soon crossed the unbroken expanse of the lake and were moving through a submerged forest.
Where it touched that morning the 27-foot level, in a few months more, says "the Colonel," it will reach the 87-foot level and spread over one hundred and sixty-four square miles of territory and when "the Colonel" makes an assertion wise men hesitate to put their money on the other horse.
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