OF THE QUITENIAN ANDES. 181 
Throughout the Quitenian Andes a bit of solid rock is rarely 
seen, save where black, jagged masses of trachyte stand out in the 
higher peaks, which are all either active or dormant volcanos; and 
оп a superficial view most of the hills seem to be made up of débris, 
either, as around Ambato, of calcined and triturated granite and 
schists, or, as in descending from Alausi, of stones and rude blocks 
confusedly heaped together. But in one place we saw above us a 
low cliff of vertical strata, much cracked and bent, as if by some 
force applied to their ends. The brown hill-sides began to be 
diversified by an arborescent Cactus, with polygonal stems and 
white dahlia-like flowers, which, Briareus-like, threw wide into the 
air its hundred rude arms. Lower down, at about 6000 feet, I 
saw specimens full 30 feet high and 18 inches in diameter. Along 
with it grew frequently a Cesalpinia and a Tecoma, both of which 
are abundantly planted near Ambato and Guano, the former for 
the sake of its bark, used in tanning, and the latter because it 
bears a profusion of ornamental yellow flowers, and is supposed to 
possess wonderful medicinal virtues. 
About two leagues below Alausí the road descends to the mar- 
gin of the river, where it meets the Chanchán, a larger stream 
coming from the eastern Cordillera, near the volcano Sangáy ; the 
two united take the name of the latter, and preserve it until issu- 
ing into the plain, where, joined by the Chimbo from Chimborazo, 
they form the river Yaguáchi, which empties itself into the gulf 
just above the city of Guayaquil. Crossing the Chanchán by a 
rude bridge near its junction with the Pumacháca, we entered on 
a beach clad with a grove of Acacias—low spreading trees with 
very odoriferous yellow flowers and binate spines sometimes three 
inches long. Near this place, which was still some 8000 feet above 
the sea, we came on the first sugar-cane farm. The road again 
leaves the river, and we had finally to climb a long cuesta to reach 
the village of Chinchi, which is full 1500 feet above the river. 
Chünchi is the last village on the slope of the Cordillera, and 
I had calculated on making it my head-quarters, though the forest 
із still a day's journey farther down. І brought recommendations 
from Ambato, and the people seemed willing to assist me; but the 
houses were so miserable, so full of dirt and vermin, and so 
utterly destitute of furniture (for I could procure neither bed- 
stead, chair, nor table), that I saw I should work on my plants 
with infinitely less comfort than I used to do in a palm-hut in the 
warm forest. Another and greater difficulty was the procuring 
of food for my beasts, for all the pastures were dried up, and a man 
