'' 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 

 on a superficial view most of the hills seem to be made up of d^hris,'' 

 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 Ccesalpinia 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 Alausi the road descends to the mar- 

 gin of the river, where it meets the Chanchan, a larger stream 

 coming from the eastern Cordillera, near the volcano Sangay ; 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 Yaguachi, which empties itself into the gulf 

 just above the city of Guayaquil. Crossing the Chanchan by a 

 rude bridge near its junction with the Pumachaca, 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 Chiinchi, which is full 1500 feet above the river. >^ 



Chunchi is the last village on the slope of the Cordillera, and - 

 I had calculated on making it my head-quarters, though the forest 

 is still a day's journey farther down. I 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 lor my beasts, for all the pastures were dried up, and a man 



